At the mall, there are a handful of parked cars scattered around the lot, employees arriving before the shops open to the public. Jim drives up to one of the entrances and stretches an arm across the passenger seat to hold Alan back so he can see out the passenger window. Alan follows his gaze, but there isn’t anything to see. The doors are locked; even from here, he spies the chains hanging on the interior push bars.
“Maybe he got inside somehow?” Alan offers, though he doubts it.
Jim gives a dubious shrug. “Maybe, if one of these doors is open somewhere. We’ll drive around, have a look.”
“I don’t really think he’s here.” Alan doesn’t want to point out he didn’t think Brooks was at Kylie’s, either, and he was right about that, wasn’t he?
But Jim asks the question they both want answer
