Night Shift (Book 1, the Night Shift series)

Chapter Forty

He found them in the Matinee Room. Blanche looked up as he approached. "Come sit by me. What did Stacey say?" she asked anxiously.

Still shaking from his episode in the security office, Daniel sat on the edge of the booth. "She'll be expecting two visitors for Maureen tomorrow night."

Jonathan asked, "Two visitors?" Ruth Ann was tucked in close to his side, her hand lightly resting on his shoulder.

"I'll be escorting her," Daniel said, giving Blanche a small smile.

"Oh, Mac."

It was Oscar who said the one thing none of them could admit out loud. "I guess this makes it your last night with us," he said, his usual commanding voice wavering slightly. "Ladies' choice, whatever you want, it's up to you."

Blanche pursed her lips. "We don't have enough time to give everyone a makeover." She shot Mary a critical look. "You in particular, doll—"

"Whatever." Mary rolled her eyes.

"Since that's impossible, I'd like dancing and my favourite meal."

"Done." Clara nodded. Nervous smiles were shared around the table. The silence rested heavily around the booth.

Ruth Ann cleared her throat. "I'm glad you're going to finally be with Maureen," she said. "Nothing's more important than being with the one you love."

Jonathan put an arm around her and gave her a squeeze. "Especially if there's a hot tub."

Their jittery laughter became more natural. Daniel bowed his head and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Daniel?" Oscar asked, his voice full of concern. The unexpected gentleness touched him, but he was unsure how to tell them what he'd seen. "Is this about tomorrow night?" Oscar guessed.

"Are you having second thoughts?" Blanche asked. A look of horror crossed her face.

"No," Daniel said, easing her worries. "It's Mr. Oliver, he's really lost it. Last night I heard him arguing. At first, I thought there was someone with him in the hall, or even someone in the secret room standing in the doorway. But he was yelling at the picture of the Grand Opening! He was asking Mr. Willard for help. I stood there for at least five minutes," he told them. "He had a whole conversation with the wall. I couldn't make out everything, but he kept saying he didn't know what the plan was and how he had no idea what to do next. And then there was this really weird part about his whole life spent honouring a promise."

"He's taken care of Willard's for forty years," Mary reasoned. "It doesn't make sense for him to be—well, dangerous."

"But that's the thing, isn't it?" Daniel said. "Forty years is a long time. Maybe he's getting tired of waiting."

"Waiting for what?" she asked.

"What's the panic about?" Petey asked. "Finding out why Mr. Oliver is going cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs is the last thing on your to-do list, right?"

Oscar's smooth, commanding voice filled the room with authority. "I understand Mr. Oliver's actions are making you anxious, Daniel, but we know him best. It's not a man who is confused you need to worry about—it's a man who is desperate. He acts without fear, without regard for the consequences." Then he smiled. "That doesn't sound like our Mr. Oliver."

"No," Daniel said. Then he thought, not yet.

Jonathan stood up and stretched. "And I believe there's a tray of martinis waiting to be mixed." Ruth Ann joined him on his way to the kitchen. Daniel sat at the table watching the others get ready for Blanche's going away party. Soon, it was only him and Mary staring at the linen tablecloth.