Night Shift (Book 1, the Night Shift series)

Chapter Six

Daniel straightened the royal blue tie and studied his image, taking in the dark blue pants paired with a light blue shirt. He looked like some kind of junior achiever ready to accept an award for most promising young entrepreneur—definitely not his kind of award. The dress shoes, the only stylish part of the outfit, he'd bought in Menswear.

He mostly spent money on travel fare, hotels, and meals. Besides, living out of his backpack meant never wearing anything that had to be ironed. As he looked down, admiring his black Tom Ford lace ups, Daniel had a feeling that might change. After slipping one of the handkerchiefs into his pocket, he shoved his backpack and coat into his assigned locker.

Earlier, he'd rushed to Ladies' Fashions trying to locate the cashier's station where he was sure he'd left his notebook. He was met by a stern-looking clerk, who wore her glasses on the end of her nose.

"No," she'd said, slightly turning her profile to him. "I haven't seen any notebook by that description in this work area." Then she gave him a quick dismissal, putting her attention on a customer waiting for a fitting room.

Now in his uniform, Daniel had to simply wait until the staff left for the day before giving the first floor a thorough search. He left the locker room with an uneasy anxiety settling between his shoulder blades.

The staff lounge had a kitchen and a large common area with leather seating. A large-screen TV was flanked by bookshelves. Daniel walked through, getting a few polite nods, mostly from the female staff. He recognized a pixie hairstyle and saw that Stacey was by herself, busy with her cell phone.

The security office door was closed, but Daniel walked in anyway. His shift was due to start, and he was in uniform now, not just a kid hoping to get hired. Two faces looked abruptly in his direction, making him wish he'd waited outside.

Mr. Oliver scowled at Daniel, and then turned his attention back to a portly man in a suit. "You know my opinion, Mr. Hadley," he said.

"Look at Harrods—" the man began, red-faced and talking quickly.

"This store is not Harrods," Mr. Oliver interrupted. "Harrods is nearly four times the size of Willard's. My system has been working for years. Nothing needs to be changed because nothing is broken."

"Your system is archaic," Mr. Hadley said. "The insurance company is particularly interested, and as store manager, I'm telling you, we need the proper technology. I've been talking with the shareholders and they all agree—"

"Not all of them," Mr. Oliver interrupted. "And as head of security, with over forty years of experience, I'm telling you, Willard's has all the protection it needs." Mr. Oliver patted his key ring for emphasis.

Mr. Hadley puffed out his chest. He smoothed a hand over his protruding jacket, and then tried, unsuccessfully, to fasten the bottom button. "We'll discuss this later," he said, out of breath as he stomped out of the office. Daniel could tell the store manager was beaten—for now.

Mr. Oliver waited until the door was closed again. "Don't mind him," he said to Daniel, easing himself into the chair behind the desk.

"What happened?"

"Nothing for you to be concerned about." He produced a newspaper from the desk drawer and began to flip through the sections.

Daniel considered Monique's suspicions about Stacey being a thief. "Was something stolen?" he asked.

Mr. Oliver gave Daniel a curious look over the paper. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, uh...nothing." His cheeks grew warm. "I guess I just assumed." He felt stupid for blurting out that useless question. He looked away, pretending to be interested in the potted ferns that flanked the small hallway leading off the security office.