Beneath the Mall of Madness (A Jaspar Windisle Mystery Book 1) by A.D. Folmer Page A

whoever’s responsible. The hotels haven’t reported any disappearances, but we’re still checking.”
    Fiona stood up and walked to the podium.
    “The main reason we’re having this meeting,” she said, “is to refresh everyone’s memory of what to do if an emergency arises. Now that Abner Whateley is dead we’ve lost one of our safe areas, so some of you are going to have to adjust your plans. If we’re looking at an invasion from Bishop’s Corner, I would not recommend taking refuge in either the hotel or this church.”
    “We can’t take in that many people,” the Baptist minister said. I expected this to start another argument, but he kept talking. “We’re going to need to reassign people and move our next drill forward, or a real emergency will be a disaster.”
    “Yes, of course,” Pastor Macready said. “Jeremiah, do you still have the lists?”
    “Yes,” Jeremiah said. “I can review them this morning if you like. Then we can practice tomorrow.”
    “I hate practice,” Cecilia said with a groan. “Something always goes wrong the first time, and it takes all day.”
    “If things go badly during a drill, imagine what the real thing would be like if we didn’t practice,” Farther Mike said tartly. “No one would have died in the trilobite invasion if we’d been organized then.”
    “I know,” Cecilia sighed. “I just don’t like closing up shop.”
    “Is this like a town-wide fire drill?” I asked.
    “More like a tornado drill,” she replied. “I’m sure Jeremy will tell you where to go.”
    “Now that that’s settled,” Pastor MacReady said, “we can talk about the monsters.” It was my turn to groan.
    “I hope Steve isn’t going to go on about how they’re endangered,” I said.
    “The monsters are endangered?” Cecilia repeated. “I thought chupacabras were everywhere.”
    “No, they’re definitely not,” I said. “I think the real thing is confined to Puerto Rico, or maybe Mexico.”
    “Why would we have Puerto Rican monsters?” A man a few pews ahead of us asked. “Damn immigrants should stay out of our country.”
    “Puerto Rico is part of the United States you moron,” the woman sitting next to him said.
    “But it isn’t a state.”
    “Who cares?” The church had amazing acoustics. They were whispering and yet I could hear them as clearly as if they were speaking into a microphone. I wondered what the man’s position on Guam was.
    “Everybody QUIET!” Officer Earl yelled. His voice echoed throughout the church. “Sorry, Pastor. Please go on.”
    “It seems to me,” the pastor continued, “that we need to keep an eye out for these things and figure out how to keep them from spreading.”
    “How long have they been where they are without spreading?” The priest asked. “If they’ve been there longer than the town there must be something keeping them in place.”
    “What if the construction changes that?” Jeremiah asked. He was wearing the same suit he wore at the hotel. I suppose if you’re always dressed to the nines there’s no need to change things up for church. “These things can be delicate, you know that.”
    “We’ve halted all work while this is sorted out,” Steve said. “Honestly, I doubt we’ll be able to continue with a colony of carnivorous plants controlling the site.”
    “What about the attention this will get?” Jeremiah asked. “You’re going to have biologists and thrill seekers alike swarming the place.”
    “I haven’t heard from the EPA yet, what with it being the weekend, but as far as I know Jesticorps still has the final say in who can legally come on to our property, and with the liability issues involved I don’t see us advertising it as a tourist attraction.”
    “How much say do you have?” Someone asked.
    “Can you do anything about trespassers besides post signs?” Someone else chimed in.
    “I can hire guards,” Steve said. “I was about to do that anyway. As for stopping construction,