Night Shift (Book 1, the Night Shift series)

Chapter Nineteen

Daniel whacked a golden branch, sending a few twinkling lights across the main foyer. He marched down the aisle toward the grand staircase, calling out her name, hearing it echo through the empty department.

He stopped at the base of the stairs—Blanche glared at him with one hand on her hip. She was wearing a pink silk robe and long pearls. "So, you decided to show up after all. I didn't think you had the guts," she gloated. "Well, don't just stand there looking all balled up. Get a wiggle on, the boys are waiting." Her heels clicked up the marble steps, disappearing into the shadows.

"I came back for some answers," he called out.

"Good luck, Mac."

He followed her up the staircase, taking the steps by twos. When they reached the Matinee Room, Jonathan and Oscar were already waiting. He stole a sideways glance at Blanche, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. He wondered if Jonathan was thinking of scenes from The Godfather. Daniel realized too late that he should have stayed in the cab with Monique.

At their usual booth, a half-eaten chocolate cake rested on a glass stand. Nothing made any sense; it was like being lost in a maze of disjointed dreams. His body went hot and then cold. His fists clenched at his sides. "Isn't this nice," he said. "Celebrating the loss of my sanity with a little dessert."

Oscar stood up like a gunfighter preparing to challenge the town drunk. "Before you start hurling accusations," he warned, "you need to hear the whole story."

"Oscar may have about twenty years on us," Jonathan said, full of cheek, "but he is the reigning Wii boxing champ."

The anger that had driven him to charge into the store for answers gave way to hurt confusion. "Mary used me," he said, his voice sounded wounded. "You all did."

"She uses the term boy-toy, actually," Jonathan said, relishing in Daniel's discomfort. "She was going to take you to see Phantom next week."

Blanche snorted as if he'd messed up the punchline to an awful joke. "He's lying," she said to Daniel. "None of us have left the store." She paused and let that information sink in before she dropped the next bomb. "Not for the last forty years."

"Forty years?" Daniel repeated. The blood pounded in his temples, making him lightheaded.

Jonathan licked chocolate icing off his thumb. "Actually," he said, "when Ruth Ann mentioned Oliver Twist, I was biting my tongue not to say Lars and the Real Girl. Which wouldn't have been funny at the time, but now of course is totally hilarious."

Daniel wanted to punch the smirk right off Jonathan's face. "Your stupid pranks are the reason all the guards quit, right?" he asked, fighting the bile burning his throat. "Since I was Mary's boy-toy, does that mean Ruth Ann gets the next guard?"

In two swift strides, Jonathan had grabbed the front of Daniel's shirt in his fist, and wrenched him closer until their noses were only inches apart.

"Stop it!" Blanche screeched. Angry tears dropped on her pink robe. "None of us wanted you here to begin with, only Mary—she saw you as an experiment."

Her words hit Daniel like a slap. "Why me?" he asked.

"Why you indeed?" Blanche choked out, then dropped her head and cried into her hands.

"That's enough," Oscar ordered. He motioned to Jonathan, who slowly let him go. They hurried him to the elevator, leaving a weeping Blanche behind. Oscar whipped the gate closed and slammed the G button. Daniel kept himself wedged in the corner.

When the fourth floor was out of sight, Oscar hit the control panel again, making the elevator stop. Jonathan put a hand on the wall to steady himself. Daniel's heart pulsed in his throat. Even the little blue W's on the gold walls swirled into threatening patterns around him.