"A Mall Cop Tries to Solve a Mystery, Proving She's No 'Fake Cop'"
Reviewed by Min Jung
Posted October 30, 2011
Mystery Cozy
Emma-Joy (E.J.) Ferris is a former military policewoman who
was medically discharged, and now works as a mall cop at
Fernglen Galleria. She enjoys her job, for the most part -
every day brings something new besides the usual giving of
directions, assisting separated children and parents, and
dodging mall walkers.
This particular day brings its share of trouble. First,
someone decides to free every reptile from the Herpetology
Hut, including the python named Agatha. Not only do all of
the snakes, lizards, and various other creatures need to be
tracked down, but this needs to be done discreetly without
scaring off the more timid shoppers. Then, local developer
Jackson Porter is discovered dead (and naked) in the window
display of one of the stores.
The homicide detective assigned to the case dismisses E.J.
as a mere "mall cop," which hurts her pride as someone who
was a successful military cop, and who can't get a job with
any local police forces because of her injury. So E.J. sets
out of the solve the mystery herself. She has her
grandfather (a retired CIA agent) on her side, which proves
useful since there is no shortage of suspects, and she has a
large hill to climb. The detective doesn't want her
meddling, one of her co-workers has been acting more
suspicious than usual, and her own boss has a chip on his
shoulder about her former career in the military (he has it
in his head that she needs to be knocked down a peg or two
before she realizes she's just a mall cop like the rest of
the crew). Then there's the new proprietor of the cookie
shop in the food court, who isn't all that he seems.
Overall, this was a great mystery. Because of the land
development deal that Porter was working on and the various
relationships he was engaged in (both past and present), I
was constantly kept guessing as to who the culprit was. The
subplots regarding the missing reptiles and the graffiti
taggers were also both entertaining and realistic, given
the nature of a mall. E.J. herself was a well-written
character with depth and humor, especially pertaining to
her past and her family. The way this ended definitely
makes me want to keep my eye out for the next book in this
new series!
SUMMARY
Emma-Joy Ferris likes mall cop work, even though it's a bit
more humdrum than the military policing she did in the army.
But there's no time to be bored when someone 'liberates' a
15-foot python from the Herpetology Hut, and a mannequin
turns out to be a very real corpse.
ExcerptChapter One
It amazed me how a few hundred feet of tile floors and
narrow halls amplified a scream.
With the Fernglen Galleria empty of shoppers at this
early hour, the terror-stricken wail ricocheted off the
tiles so I couldn’t quite tell where it was coming from.
The fear in the sound got to me, though, and I pivoted my
Segway, the two-wheeled, electric vehicle I used to patrol
miles of mall corridors and parking areas, and zoomed past
the fountain, the frozen escalator by the food court, and a
wing of stores with their grilles down.
"Ai-yi-yi!" came the screech again.
I turned down the narrow hall that led to the rest
rooms. Fernando Guzman, part of the mall’s maintenance
staff, danced wildly around his wheeled gray trashcan,
flailing a mop this way and that. He looked like a
demented warlock performing an incantation around an out-
sized rubber cauldron. He caught sight of me.
"EJ! Por Díos! Get it off me."
It was then I spotted the dragon on his head. Bearded
dragon, that is. An Australian lizard. I only knew that
because Keifer, owner of the mall’s reptile store,
Herpetology Hut, made a point of instructing me about a
different critter every time I stopped to check up on
things. This bearded dragon was only about eight inches
long. Gazing at me incuriously from unblinking black eyes
set into a triangular head, it seemed remarkably
unperturbed by Fernando’s gyrations.
I got off my Segway and approached Fernando, making
calming motions with my hands. "Chill, Fernando. Just
hold still."
He stopped doing his impression of a broken windmill in
a hurricane and stood almost still, shaking slightly. "Is
it poisonous?" His eyes widened until white showed all the
way around his brown irises.
"No." At least, if it was, Keifer hadn’t mentioned it.
The thought made me hesitate for a second, and I tucked my
hair behind my ear in a nervous gesture I’d had since
childhood. I reached one hand toward the lizard.
Fernando, anxious to help, stooped down. The reptile,
finding itself eye-to-beady eye with me, hissed and puffed
out the spiny ruff under its chin. Aah, so that’s why they
called it a "bearded" dragon. Its fierceness gave me
pause. Maybe I should call for back-up, get someone to
fetch Keifer. But, no, he probably wasn’t even at the
store yet.
"Get it, EJ," Fernando pleaded.
It’s a lizard, I admonished myself, not a camel spider.
The dinner plate-sized arachnids had creeped me out in
Iraq. Just grab the damn thing. My hand flashed out and
closed around the reptile. Its skin felt rough on my
palm. Trying to be gentle, I lifted it away from
Fernando’s head, keeping a firm grip despite its wiggly
attempts to free itself. It tangled its little claws in
Fernando’s thick, black hair, making him wince as I pulled
it free.
"Gracías, gracías! Thank you," Fernando said fervently,
straightening. He backed up a couple steps and eyed the
lizard warily.
"I live to serve," I said wryly. "How’d this guy get on
your head, anyway?" The lizard had gone still in my hand,
its tail draped up my arm.
"I bend to pick up some trash, here." Fernando pointed
to a spot under the fire extinguisher. "Next thing I know,
that . . . that monster leap on my cabeza." He raked his
fingers through his hair, as if trying to eradicate the
feel of the lizard’s feet on his scalp.
I brought the lizard closer to my face and stroked its
back gingerly with one finger. It was kind of cute in a
scaly, reptilian sort of way. "How’d you end up here,
dragon? Don’t you belong in a nice, secure cage at the
Herpes Hut, eating insects or dandelion leaves or Purina
Lizard Chow?"
The dragon hissed.
Leaving Fernando to continue his duties, I held the
lizard against my chest with one hand while trying to steer
the Segway with the other. I reflected that in my thirteen
months as a member of the Fernglen Galleria Security Force,
I’d never dealt with an animal incident. Lost kids, drug
deals, shoplifting, vandalism, car theft—yes. Escaped
reptiles—no. The work might not give me the adrenaline
rush that patrolling the streets of Kabul with my military
unit had, but it was still police work, of a sort, and I
couldn’t expect much better with a knee and lower leg
mangled by shrapnel from an IED blast. The lizard nudged
between the buttons of my crisp white uniform shirt,
recalling my attention. I jumped and the Segway veered.
"Off limits, buddy," I said, pulling Mr. Nosy back as
his claws snagged on my bra’s lace trim. I straightened
the Segway out as I came around the corner into the Macy’s
wing where the Herpes Hut was located. Keifer Jones ran
toward me, dreadlocks flopping against his shoulders with
every step. He wore a plaid flannel shirt unbuttoned over
a red "My Snake Has a Reptile Dysfunction" tee shirt and
jeans. His twenty-something face wore a scowl.
"EJ! You are not going to believe what’s happened. I--"
"Looking for this guy?" I forestalled him by holding
out the bearded dragon who hadn’t seemed to mind traveling
by Segway.
"Dartagnan! Where’d you find him?" Keifer accepted the
lizard from me and it scurried up his arm to perch on his
shoulder.
"Fernando found him by the men’s room."
"We’ve got to find the others." His dark eyes flicked
to either side, as if hoping to spot . . . what?
"What others?" I asked, an ominous feeling growing
within me.
"Look." Keifer turned, flannel shirt flapping, and
hurried into the Herpes Hut.
The shop looked much as always: glass terrariums lined
the walls, pet food and bedding and whatnot occupied
shelves running up the middle of the store, and a short
counter supported a cash register about mid-way back. A
musty wet smell hung in the air, a scent I knew came from
the turtle habitats. On the surface, everything looked
normal, but something didn’t seem right. As I turned in a
270-degree arc, I realized what was missing. No rasp of
scales across rocks, or slither of heavy bodies through
leaves on terrarium floors, or skritch of lizard claws on
glass. The only sound was a faint humming from the
fluorescent bulbs. I looked into the terrarium closest to
me. No inmate. And none in the enclosures above it or on
either side. My gaze met Keifer’s.
"Gone," he said bitterly. "Every single one, except the
turtles. Whoever did it left this." He thrust a sheet of
paper at me.
Brows arching into my bangs, I took it by one corner,
careful not to smudge any possible fingerprints, although
Keifer had probably ruined them already. I read the hand-
printed note. "We have liberated our opressed reptile
brothers (and sisters). Sincerely, Lovers of Animal
Freedom." LOAF? There was an animal rescue group that
called itself LOAF?
First things first: "How many?" I asked Keifer.
Rotating his head from side to side so his neck cracked,
he said, "Twenty-one lizards, two tortoises, and fifteen
snakes, including Agatha."
"Agatha?" I said with dismay.
He nodded grimly.
Great. The last thing the mall needed was a fifteen-
foot python surprising customers in dressing rooms or
contesting right of way in the food court. Agatha wasn’t
for sale; she was more a mascot who drew customers into the
store. Keifer had owned her for years and I could tell by
the way he shifted from foot to foot that he was worried
about her.
"Anything poisonous?"
"EJ!" He looked offended.
"I had to ask." I keyed the radio and told Joel to let
the other security officers know to be on the lookout for
reptiles of various shapes and sizes. The Fernglen
Galleria Security Force doesn’t have a permanent
dispatcher; one officer is assigned that duty for the day
and handles the radio and any phone calls that come in.
Today it was Joel Rooney.
"Come again?" Joel said incredulously, his South
Carolina drawl wringing three syllables from each word.
"Reptiles," I repeated. "Lizards and turtles and
snakes, oh my! There’s been a mass escape at the
Herpetology Hut."
I heard Joel relay the news to whoever else was in the
office and a babble of voices sounded from my radio. I
sighed. The phrase ". . . get my gun from my truck . . ."
came clearly above the chatter and I quickly added, "None
of the reptiles is poisonous—"
"Agatha just ate last week," Keifer interjected,
scrunching his face anxiously.
"—or dangerous."
Keifer’s look of relief made up for what might have been
a white lie.
"Call Animal Control, too," I suggested to Joel.
"Wilco."
I turned to Keifer. "Any idea who might have done
this?" I asked, strolling past the empty terrariums lining
the store’s east side. It was kind of sad not to see
anything scurrying around, no beady eyes staring back. I
was by no means a reptile-o-phile, but I could see why
people kept them as pets. "Anyone in here the last two
weeks who struck you as a bit ‘off’?"
"Jesus, EJ," Keifer said, "this is a mall. The place is
filled with strange people." I gave him a look and he
hastened to add, "But I know what you mean. There was a
couple in here last Friday—a boy and a girl, maybe
eighteen, nineteen—who stuck around for the better part of
an hour. They just walked up and down the aisles, looking
at stuff."
"Why’d they stand out?" We had made our way to the rear
of the store and I inspected the back door, the one leading
to the utility hall that ran behind the shops, as Keifer
thought. Splintered wood around the lock told me an
unsophisticated bandit—someone with a crow bar rather than
lock picks—had gained access this way. I snapped a couple
of shots with the digital camera I kept on my utility belt.
Kiefer shrugged. "I’m not sure. They wore those
camouflaged things"—his hands brushed up and down in front
of his torso—"but a lot of the kids do that." His brow
wrinkled as he thought. "I guess it was the way they
didn’t talk to each other. Just walked around, looking
serious. No ‘Oh, look how cute,’ or ‘I bet that one’s
poisonous.’ Just . . . nothing."
I straightened from my study of the door. Dartagnan had
used a dreadlock like a ladder to climb atop Keifer’s head
and was staring me down with an "I’m king of the mountain"
haughtiness. Maybe he thought he’d get more lizard chow
now that all his cousins had vamoosed.
Jotting Keifer’s info down, I slipped my notebook back
in my pocket. "Okay. Give a holler if you think of
anything else, or if you see those two around. If I were
you, I’d call up some buddies who aren’t afraid of your
merchandise, and go reptile hunting. You’ve got"—I checked
my watch—"fifty-one minutes until opening. After
that . . ."
"Thanks, EJ," Keifer said. "I’m on it."
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