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tacos. A semicircle of public telephones stood at one side, each phone fastened to a high gleaming steel pillar.
    I have no idea what I am doing, thought Alice. Why am I buying clothes? I have two walk-in closets full of clothes at home!
    She moved toward the phones, thinking: My mother loves me. She’s a sensible woman and I’m a sensible daughter. One phone call, and we’ll clear this up.
    All six phones were being used.
    Alice listened to each conversation, trying to figure out who was likely to stop first. At a time when Alice so urgently needed to speak to her mother, the conversations these strangers were having were stupid and worthless.
    Two security guards, each talking into his hand phone, came jogging down the hall.
    Me, thought Alice. Those men are after me. The police alerted mall security.
    It had been terrible to see the car that had chased her, but to see the actual men…see their faces, and hands, and weapons (weapons!) and know that they were taller and stronger…that their actual job, their actual assignment, was to catch Alice…
    All the security staff need do was close the mall exits. So it was necessary to leave before that happened. Forget changing clothing.
    In fact, now that Alice thought about it, how could they know what she was wearing? It was the car that had been described, not her clothes. She had wasted precious time getting an outfit that would blend in. She had forgotten the important thing—she had to get away.
    Alice slipped around knots of shoppers and walked swiftly into the department store from which the security men had come. She went through Perfume, its glass counters sparkling with bottles, and through Handbags, leather and cloth and designer—and there was an exit. Two automatic doors, flanked by two push doors.
    A security guard was standing there, facing into the store. He was not lounging. He stood solidly, legs spread, arms folded. His eyes shot around, little scouts in the wilderness, hunting for her.
    Alice took a handbag from the display and tore off the price tags as she walked through Lingerie over to Swimsuits. She pushed through the cash register line, annoying shoppers, and held up the purse to the overworked, exhausted clerk. “Someone left her purse in the ladies’ room,” she said. “Would you please call Security to come and get it?”
    The clerk beamed. “Oh, how nice of you!” The women in line softened. Today’s young people were not so worthless after all.
    Alice smiled back. This was too bad. The clerk and customers were going to be able to describe her and her clothes. Alice set the handbag on the counter, hoping nobody would go through it just yet, since the only contents were smushed store paper to keep the bag from sagging.
    The clerk picked up her phone.
    Alice walked back, taking a route behind racks full of clothes, and sure enough, frowning, the security guard headed toward Swimsuits. He walked sideways, keeping an eye on the door.
    Alice crouched between tightly packed nightgowns and shimmering satin robes. Stooped over, she got as close to the exit as she could, straightened up, shoved the door open, and ran.
    Flew, actually.
    Her skirt and hair lifted behind her, and her shopping bag and purse whapped into cars as she raced past them.
    She had visualized the parking lot as an easy place to hide, a thousand cars behind which she could duck, but she was taller than the cars. She was completely visible.
    And there was no place to go. At the far side of the immense lot was the six-lane road she’d driven off of. Not the sort of road you easily crossed on foot. There was nothing on the other side but more stores, more parking lots, more exposed places where pedestrians did not hang out.
    Halfway across the lot Alice knew she was ruined. Running away was one thing, but you had to have somewhere to end up.
    I have nowhere to end up, thought Alice.
    She heard a yell from the mall. “Hey! You!” It was a big, chesty, masculine yell. An