The Wrong Path: Sentinel Security

By Jane Glatt

Dani Norris found him: the dead guy. She was on her way home from her job in the PATH, the huge underground mall in downtown Toronto that connects hundreds of office towers, so it wasn't like he'd been there long. Even though he looked like he had.

After that weird things kept happening. Ro Parks from Sentinel Security seemed to have some answers but Dani didn't want answers. She just wanted things to get back to normal.

But they didn't: things just kept getting weirder. And more dangerous.  

And weirdest of all? It seems that only Dani can make things normal again. She hopes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jane Glatt
• Release date: Jul 14, 2018
• ISBN: 9780995806412

Book preview

2  Ro: a sinking feeling

Did you find it? Ro Parks whispered as she leaned over Buster’s shoulder. Based on how he was dressed, she knew most people would expect Buster to smell, but he didn’t. She didn’t allow that: not in her PATH and not in her people.

Nah, it was Dani over there. He gestured to a young woman with dark, shoulder-length, hair and light brown skin. She was talking to a police officer and was wearing some type of uniform top that Ro almost recognized.

She work down here? Ro asked. Down here was the PATH. Ro—officially Rosalie Parks—was General Manager of security for the entire underground mall. Buster was one of her unofficial wardens: a homeless man who lived in the PATH. As long as he stayed away from the crowds of retail workers and shoppers that peopled the many malls during the day, Ro let Buster and his friends shelter overnight. All she asked in return was that they tell her when anything odd happened. Like now.

Yeah, Buster answered. She works at a pizza place in the food court at Scotia Plaza. She’s a good kid. Makes sure we get any leftover slices.

Huh. Ro couldn’t possibly know all the food court workers. Besides, it wasn’t Dani she was interested in: it was what Dani had found.

A body.

Ro assumed the body was human but the crime scene had the aura of non-human all over it.

She and Buster stood just inside the double doors of the tunnel that led under Yonge Street to 1 Adelaide East and from her vantage point, Ro could see a couple of forensic technicians in white coveralls taking pictures of the body. The security guard from this building stood off to one side. She caught his eye and stepped over to him.

I’m from Sentinel Security, she said checking out his name tag. Did you see anything, Sergei? In case her own uniform wasn’t enough, she pulled out her ID and waved it at him.

No. I didn’t know anything had happened. He was young and spoke with a Russian accent. Sweat beaded his upper lip. Not until the police arrived.

Good, Ro thought, but she said, Too bad. I guess it’s up to the cameras then. She could have replied to him in his mother tongue, but she didn’t want to advertise how many human languages she spoke.

That’s what the detective said, Sergei replied, gesturing to a woman in a suit who was circling the scene. I already gave her my statement and told them I don’t have access to the video.

That’s why I’m here, Ro said. To supply the camera footage. You can probably go, as long as the police are done with you.

The young man nodded in relief, checked in with the detective, who waved him off, and was gone as quickly as the escalator could take him up to street level.

Good, Ro thought again. She didn’t need anyone trying to help while she figured out what had happened. And what she should do about it.

She edged up to the closest coverall-clad officer to get a better look. The forensic technician, a man, glanced at her and then bent back to his task. Ro suppressed a smile.

His response was exactly why she’d chosen to look the way she did: a slightly overweight middle-aged woman with brown skin. Add her Sentinel Security uniform to the mix, and she looked like she belonged without being a threat to anyone’s authority.

She blew out a breath and frowned. The scene before her wasn’t pleasant. A man in a suit had collapsed against the glass enclosure of a magazine kiosk between an escalator that headed up to the restaurant at street level and a door that led to the parking garage. And even though she knew it was impossible, he looked like he’d been there a while.

He also looked like every drop of moisture in his body had been sucked from him.

A curious security guard?

Ro looked up to find the detective Sergei had pointed out earlier staring at her. Her stance and stare said, I am in charge. She waved over the officer who’d been interviewing Dani. Why isn’t this scene secure? the detective asked, looking at Ro pointedly.

The officer glanced at Ro and gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing down, then back up. Sorry Detective, I didn’t see her. Ma’am, you’ll have to—

I’m head of security for the PATH, Ro said ignoring the uniformed cop. Sentinel Security has the contract for everything below ground. That includes all of the surveillance video.

Good for you, the detective said. I’ll get your name, so I can make sure I get that footage, and then you can step away from my crime scene. She glanced up at the ceiling and the two cameras that were pointed at them.

Ro held up ID and handed the detective one of her business cards.

Rosalie Parks, she read. General Manager, Sentinel Security. She stared at Ro.

That’s right, Ro said. As I said, I’m in charge in the PATH.

Still staring at her, the detective dug a card out of her jacket pocket and handed it to her.

Send the camera files to the second email address, she said, and then turned back to the crime scene, dismissing her.

Ro took the card and looked down at it. Gabriella Cleary, Detective, 51 Division, Toronto Police Service.

She’d lost her chance to get a closer look at the body, now that she’d been noticed; not that she really needed to. She had a sinking feeling she knew what had happened here.

She sighed. It was going to be a long night, but she couldn’t leave, not while the cops were on site. Detective Cleary wasn’t going to get any video until she’d scanned every second of it and made sure she was okay with what it showed.

She pulled her work phone from her pocket and texted Hey, telling him where she was and asking him to bring her a double double.

3  Dani: etched into her brain

Dani yawned and brushed her hair from her eyes. After the initial shock of finding a dead body—and not just any dead person, but one that looked mummified—she was exhausted. The adrenaline rush had burned off, maybe. Not that she knew how adrenaline worked. Her sister, the almost-doctor, would have been able to explain it and make Dani feel inadequate in the process.

Whatever. All Dani wanted to do was go home, wash the stink of the pizza shop off, and climb into bed.

Sorry? she asked. The detective had asked yet another question, and she’d already told her everything she knew. Yes, I was heading home. I told you that already. Twice now, but who was counting? Just her, apparently. I leave the mall this way every night and take the escalator up to the street, then catch the King streetcar to Danforth Station. Then, I take the subway east. Without leaving the PATH she could catch the subway going north and head east at Yonge and Bloor, but she spent so much of her day underground that she needed the half hour streetcar ride above ground just to feel like she’d lived through a day.

You do that every night? the detective—Dani screwed up her mouth trying to remember her name—asked.

Dani peeked at the crumpled card she was holding. Detective Cleary, she sighed. Yes I leave the same way every night I work. And always at around the same time. And no, I did not see anything or anyone. No one was in the tunnel under the street, and no one was at the bottom of the escalator.

And that’s usual? To not see anyone?

Yes, Dani replied. The PATH empties out after six and by the time I leave work there’s hardly ever anyone down here.

All right. Thanks for your time, she said at last. Make sure you give your contact information to the uniformed officer before you leave. She gestured to a cop standing in front of the magazine kiosk, blocking Dani’s view of what was leaning against the frosted glass. But she didn’t need to see it to remember what it looked like. That image was etched into her brain.

She really didn’t want to see it again, but she was supposed to give the cop her name and number. She stood there for a moment, trying to find a good time to interrupt him. She glanced over at Cleary: the detective was talking to a woman in some kind of uniform. Neither of them looked very happy.

With a sigh, Dani checked the time on her phone. She’d miss the last subway if she didn’t get out of here soon and the last thing she wanted to do was call her mom to pick her up. Although it looked like her mom was still up: there were a couple of texts and a voicemail from her.

Excuse me, she said to the cop she’d been to told speak to. He turned and frowned at her. "The detective said to give you