“Mr. Bean?”
“I knew him in grade school,” I explained. “I bumped into him down here the other day. He"s really nice. You go and see if you can find him, me and Brett will try and locate him on the other floors.”
“What"s he look like?” Brett asked.
“Not very tall, sort of slight, and about fifty-something. Wears thick glasses.”
“Sounds like my computer science teacher,” Ellwood said.
My hope was to find Mr. Bean, explain to him I needed to find a cart that might have been used down here, and then, call the police. Or, if not call the police, at least tell Weeks of my suspicions.
We took the elevator to the first floor. I stayed on the main floor, went to look in the cafeteria, but the doors were locked tight. I didn"t want anyone to know we were here, or what we were doing, so I went
