Forgive Me(40)

He took the escalator up to the main shopping area and ambled along galleries just beginning to bustle with activity. He browsed store windows.

Was he looking for merchandise or searching for something else? Angie made a note of his attire in case she lost him in the growing crowd. He was dressed professionally in a gray suit jacket, white shirt, black pants, and black shoes. It was similar to what he’d worn the day he’d met Nadine.

Angie knew to avoid distractions. A turn of the head at an inopportune moment and he might be gone. Who knew when he’d return? She kept at least thirty feet back at all times, using people as shields whenever possible. Even though she was behind her target, she paced her footsteps to keep from being in sync with his. On the marble floors, the symmetry of the echo might attract his attention.

She did her best to appear like any other shopper—unhurried, browsing merchandise in store windows. She wore a drab green crew neck sweatshirt and gray pants. The clothes she kept in her car were plain, not colorful, never revealing. She never wore popular brands or anything with logos or graphics on them. Those could make people notice her. Dark, muted colors with a timeless look worked best.

She didn’t bother with disguises, though she had several in the trunk of her car. Her target did not know her and wouldn’t recognize her. but he would know if a stranger always seemed to be near. Angie did what others were doing, glancing at her phone as she walked and shopped, not making eye contact.

She flirted with the idea of texting Vincent, but decided not to. Mall security had no training in stealth techniques. Bringing them in risked the operation. She did pretend to call him, though, and even made up a conversation so it would look authentic.

Just be cool and casual like everyone else and this will go fine, Angie thought. Calm as she appeared, it was hard to contain her excitement. This man could lead her to straight to Nadine, unless of course he drove.

She had her Ford Taurus back, having ferried Mike to Falls Church after he drove her car to Union Station. The garage had space for more than a thousand cars; the chances of Angie being parked anywhere near her target’s car—if that was how he was getting around—were slim to none. He had gone to the garage on the surveillance tape, so she suspected he wasn’t one for traveling by train. If she managed to get a license plate, she would consider it a victory.

Back on the ground level, her target stopped in front of H&M and browsed the window display. Angie walked right by while he went into the store. She crossed toward the main concourse, mindful to keep a thirty-foot safe distance.

Minutes later, the man with the buzzcut hair style in the gray jacket emerged carrying a small bag. Whatever he’d purchased hadn’t taken long to make his selection. He wandered the corridors holding the bag, and Angie remembered the Heydari bag he’d had on the day he’d met Nadine.

The man spent two hours wandering and window-shopping. Angie stayed a good thirty feet away, keeping close to the densest part of the crowd. Nothing about the man’s behavior changed her thinking about his intention. He was prowling for girls, not presents. She watched him watching. His head would turn with every skirt that passed. His ears were attuned to the sounds of girls’ laughter and chatter.

Angie managed to get a few pictures of him with her smart phone. Nothing worthy of a Facebook profile, but she could make out his face a little better than what she’d seen on the surveillance footage. Thus far his fishing expedition—assuming that’s what it was—hadn’t produced even a nibble.

Her target got lunch at Chipotle—a burrito, a bag of chips, and a soda. Angie didn’t want to feel sluggish, so she grabbed a pre-made salad from Chopt, two doors down.

After lunch, the man was on the move again. Same stores, same browsing habits. Angie gave a repeat performance herself.

Forty minutes later, the man approached a girl not more than twenty who was by herself. She was tall and thin, with luxurious long brown hair, dressed in hip-hugging jeans and a form-fitting top. She wore a backpack and wheeled a black suitcase behind her. Maybe the girl had just gotten off the train. She did look a bit frazzled and unsure of herself. In other words, the perfect mark.

The man walked right by the girl, but Angie could tell his gaze never really left her. Angie kept walking too, but she stopped once her target’s back was to her, sidled over to a store, and pretended to look at her phone.

The man approached the girl. He talked and she listened. He was animated and she seemed cautious, but receptive to whatever he was saying. He opened the H&M bag and Angie’s breath caught when he took out a scarf. He showed it to the girl. She looked at it and nodded her head. She approved. The man smiled and put the scarf back in the bag. He went on his way. The girl remained, seemingly unsure of where she needed to go. The man took four steps, turned around, and approached the girl from behind as she headed off in the opposite direction.

Angie’s body tingled with anticipation. The man tapped the girl’s shoulder. She turned. Nothing registered on her face, not the slightest hint of alarm or concern. She was friendly, open to him. He took out a card from his wallet and handed it to her. She studied it. The man spoke animatedly, gesticulating. Angie pretended to browse her phone. Whatever he was explaining had some urgency. At some point, his phone rang and he took the call. The girl waited patiently for him to finish.

Angie desperately wished she could eavesdrop on the conversation. The girl smiled weakly. The man held up his hands in a gesture that reminded Angie of the phrase now or never. He cocked his head slightly. He waited. Then he gave the girl a faint smile, tinged with disappointment. Ah well, your loss. He turned on his heels and marched away from the girl. She watched him go. It looked like a repeat performance of the Nadine encounter. The man continued, but not a brisk pace. The girl hesitated.