Chapter Twenty-one: Night Shift

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"Alright, have you ever worked as a waitress before?" Molly, the lady who was showing me the ropes, asked.

"I car hopped for almost 2 years."

"Good, well then you know the basics. Seat the customer, take orders, then bring it back to either the bar tender or the cook. Typically, if they're looking for a drink they'll just sit at the bar. You should ask if they want any food, no matter what." She paused, "Got it?"

I nod in response. "Good, let me or anyone else know if you need help. Tonight, you'll only be doing drinks, bringing the food out to the customer, and clearing tables and seats. It will help you become more familiar with the menu,"she explained further. After washing up, the fun began.

Thankfully, the night started slow and I mostly spent my time either by Sam or observing. Making drinks and taking food to tables was easy and I found out more about the disappearances by listening to side conversations when I was walking around or cleaning.

After listening to everyone from date couples to bar flies, I gathered that everyone suspected it was black mail and that whatever was happening, the business owners were committing suicide. That was of course, until I overheard a very peculiar story from an old man, while I was cleaning near by booth.

"I'm tellin' ya Eric, John was perfectly fine the other day, but when I went in to do the security feed that night, he came back to the building. He looked tense, especially for how easy goin' he usually is. I didn't take much notice at first, but when he was in his office, he looked up at the camera and...and I swear to God above, that his eyes flashed. Like a cat's. Now, just like the others, he fired everyone and closed up shop. I just don't get it..." The two conversed more about the unemployed people but I didn't really listen. Finishing up with my table, I quickly walked back to the bar.

Sam looked at me concerned, before he could ask the question I answered.

"The weather is fine, I have something I have to tell you when you get a minute." Quickly, I disappeared into the back to put the dishes in the sink.

"Hey, you," I turned around, a large red faced man in an apron was speaking. I pointed at myself to make sure it was in fact me he was referring to. "Yes you. Take out that garbage. The dumpster is just off to the right of the building." I nodded and picked up the sack from the can. It was heavier than it looked but it wasn't unmanageable.

Pushing open the screen door, I went out into the cool night. Walking over to the dumpster, I lifted the lid to throw the bag inside. My nerves weren't exactly at rest, the dumpster was next to an alleyway, so naturally my mind decided to tell me that there was probably some creep watching me. My overactive imagination was a curse. As I let the lid fall shut I noticed a figure standing in the dim glow of the street light. Great, I was right. I stood there for a minute, not moving a muscle. His features seemed familiar to me, really familiar.

"Bentley?" I whispered. The figure seemed to snap to attention, his body tense. Then he took off running without a response. "Bentley! Wait!" I went to go after him but stopped at the shout of my own name. I turned to see Sam standing with the screen door open.

"Rachel, what are you doing?" Sam had his eyebrows scrunched and slightly raised. "Are you okay?"

"I-I..."I looked back down the alleyway that the figure had disappeared down, "I swore..." pursing my lips slightly, "Never mind. I just got distracted."

"Well come back in here. The late night rush is starting to flood in and Dean is having a meltdown because he can't find you."

"I'm guessing that it's mostly just Dean?" Sam laughed and nodded slightly . "Come on." Running back to the door, I followed Sam inside. Dean practically tackled me as we walked through the kitchen.

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