Night Shift (Book 1, the Night Shift series)

Chapter Twenty

Daniel lifted his head, and then moaned as stars crashed behind his eyelids. He blinked, trying to focus. The bed was perfectly made. He'd slept, or rather passed out, on top of the hotel bedspread. His shirt was crumpled up beside him, but his jeans were still on.

Tiny bottles littered the bedside table. He glanced across the room and saw the mini-bar was wide open. With a grunt, Daniel swung his legs over the side of the bed. There was a crunching sound followed by a pop. Pain shot up through his foot.

"Shit. Shit. Shit," he said, hopping to the bathroom. He sat on the tiled floor with his foot resting on the edge of the tub, a shard of glass poking out of his heel. He swallowed a few times, fighting off the nausea. His tonsils felt like they were sticking together. He picked out the shard, then wrapped a towel around his foot and grabbed the counter, pulling himself up.

Daniel's insides sank. "Call me" was written in bright red lipstick across the mirror. His trembling fingers traced the letters. "Red-E-Or-Not," he sighed. Somehow, Monique had ended up in his hotel room. He didn't remember much of anything from last night—he didn't even recognize himself. His hair was messed up and eyes were red and swollen. "Who the hell are you?" he asked his reflection. He didn't even know if he was still a virgin.

Daniel wiped that embarrassing thought bubble away. He was in no shape to deal with all the complications. He filled one of the glasses with tap water and downed it in one swallow. He kept the tap running and drank several more glasses. It stayed in his stomach for only a minute before he kneeled over the toilet, throwing it back up.

When he was finished, he splashed cold water on his face until it was numb. He limped out of the bathroom and opened the top drawer of the dresser—it was empty. His brain was only able to focus on one thought: get to the airport.

Daniel had no luggage. The backpack and his jacket were in the locker at Willard's. The image of Mary begging him to stay made him stumble. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Get to the airport," he murmured.

He opened all of the drawers, flinging what little clothing he had on the floor. Then he patted his jeans, but other than his Magic 8 Ball keychain, his pockets were empty. He slammed the minibar shut and knelt on the carpet, searching the floor.

"Shit," he whispered.

He sat on the edge of the bed, desperate to remember. Leaning back, he closed his eyes, thinking about the day before. He was sure he had his wallet when he left the store. It should be somewhere in the room, at least he hoped it was.

A buzzing made him jerk upwards. He grabbed his throbbing head, cursing the sudden movement. His phone was under one of the pillows. The caller ID sent a wave of relief over him. He cleared his throat. "Hello?"

"Hi, kid!"

"Alice," he said. He imagined her sitting behind her huge desk, covered in piles of paperwork.

"Sorry about yesterday," she said. "Work is crazy and I didn't make it home until past midnight. So I waited for a more decent hour. How are you, anyway? Your last message made it sound like things were pretty cool in the Big Apple."

Goosebumps peppered his arms. "Um, yeah," he said, pulling the edge of the spread over his bare shoulder. "Sorry, what did you say about yesterday?"

"Nice," she moaned. "Make me grovel. Okay, kid. Trust me, you don't want me to sing, but happy birthday all the same. Well, one day late, anyway."

Daniel's breath caught in his throat. He had totally forgotten his own birthday.

Alice misinterpreted his silence and said, "Look, I won't pretend everything is peachy. I know this was a hard one, being the first birthday without either of your parents, and maybe you wanted to let it pass this year."

Daniel realized Mary had been wearing a party dress. "There was a chocolate cake," he answered, heavily.

"Glad to hear it. But I have another reason for calling you today." She let the silence grow. Alice was all about the drama. "There's a second inheritance—not from your parents' estate, an anonymous one that was to be activated on your nineteenth birthday."

Daniel woke up a bit. "You're kidding."

"I don't kid, kid." Then she told him the amount. "A little over five million."

"That's a lot of zeros," he said, feeling the earth swoop.

"Too many for a nineteen-year-old," she said. "Now listen, I want you to promise me you'll finish school. I'm still your guardian, and technically I control your money until you're twenty-one. You don't have to move back and enroll in your old high school, but you do need to start some kind of course."

Alice's "firm but fair" voice was oddly comforting. Daniel had had a normal family life, firmly middle class, but never anything lavish. Now he was suddenly a millionaire. "Did my parents know?" he asked.

"No."

"Can you tell me anything about it? I mean, what if this person is crazy? Should I be worried? Is it legal?"

"It damn well better be legal. There's no name, but there's an address you can look up if you want to play Hardy Boys." There was a pause, then she said, "Talk about kismet."

"Kismet?"

"It means fate. Geez kid, see what I mean about getting an education? Here, write this down."

Daniel had her repeat the address, but he didn't write it down—it was already circled in his black notebook.