Day Shift Page 70

Whatever had prowled around his house seemed to be going in the direction of the pawnshop.

In her basement apartment, with its windows right by the ground, Olivia watched the paws walk by outside. Her lights were all off. She felt safer that way.

Above the Antique Gallery and Nail Salon, Joe and Chuy looked out the front windows. For the most part, they were silent. Joe’s ankle was hurting, but it was bandaged and he’d taken some pain relievers. He was as comfortable as he was going to be that night. They’d pulled up chairs and a small table for their wineglasses, and Chuy had gotten Joe a footstool to prop his ankle on.

They sat there through the night. They were keeping guard, in their own way. So they saw everything that happened.

“At least one more night, maybe two,” Chuy said, as the darkness began to lighten. “You think we can do this two more nights?”

Joe said, “I think we have to. With the boy being so young.” He shook his head. “Honey, you can sleep if you want to. Doesn’t need but one of us. My ankle would keep me up, anyway.”

“I’m not going to leave you watching by yourself,” Chuy said.

Joe didn’t answer out loud, but he reached over to take Chuy’s hand.

Above the pawnshop, Bobo Winthrop tried to sleep, with little success. He was worried about so many things. Foremost in his mind was his concern about the pawnshop not being open at night during Lemuel’s absence. Sometimes Olivia was able and willing to do the shift; sometimes she wasn’t. When a business wasn’t open regular hours, people tended to stop coming. And the night customers were the most profitable. What would happen if he couldn’t keep his business afloat?

He turned over to try a new position, but his mind refused to turn off.

Lemuel and Olivia could find somewhere else to live, he supposed. Perhaps Lemuel would want to buy the business back from him. But Bobo didn’t want to leave Midnight. He liked the town, liked the area, liked Texas. There were so many good things about living here: Fiji being across the road, so he could see her often. Manfred next door. Joe and Chuy down the street. And the Home Cookin Restaurant, where he’d passed some very contented hours eating and talking.

He hadn’t realized the previous few months had been a Golden Age.

Now the money wasn’t trickling in, Manfred was in trouble with the law, and there was this big, bad thing outside trapping them indoors for the night. Of course he’d noticed there was a full moon. The moon would be as near to full as made no difference for the next two nights. He wondered if he’d have to stay locked inside all that time or if he could manage to stay up most of the night with the front doors unlocked to get the customers he often got during that moon phase. They were the customers better left to Lemuel—but he hadn’t heard from Lem in weeks. Or would those customers be in too much danger? What made this full moon more dangerous?

And then he was back to his worry about the shop.

The worst thing about sleepless nights was the feeling of running in a hamster cage, at least mentally. The same thoughts, over and over . . . He tossed and turned for another half hour. Finally, he slept.

The Reeds drew all the shades in their trailer, double-checked to make sure all the windows and doors were locked, and got out their guns, which were loaded and ready for use. Madonna held Grady for a long time before she put him to bed, and she left the door of his room open so she could hear the smallest sound. They didn’t turn on their television, either, which was a trial for both Madonna and Teacher. Instead, Madonna checked her Facebook page and some recipe websites, and Teacher read a backlog of mechanics magazines. By midnight, they were relaxed enough to crawl into bed to sleep.

In the Midnight Hotel, in their separate “suites,” Suzie and Tommy slept the sleep of exhaustion, only rousing enough to go to the bathroom or get a drink of water. Just down the hall, Mamie had had to take some pain medication for her hip, and she was snoring in her room. Shorty Horowitz slept sporadically, waking to confused dreams that were set in his colorful past. His grandson, in a room upstairs, was worried about spending yet another night in Texas, and concerned about finding somewhere for his grandfather to settle. If only he had a sibling to share the load. Barry slept with silver around his neck and wrists.

Lenore Whitefield was exhausted, too. She was out the second her head hit her pillow. Her husband stayed up to look at porn on his laptop, unbeknownst to Lenore, who would have hit him over the head with that laptop had she known.

The two contract workers sat in their respective rooms upstairs playing a computer game with each other. They did not see anything odd about this behavior. They didn’t pay any attention to the town, and they never knew that if they’d stepped outside the doors that night, they might have been eaten.

28

Manfred had to leave his work desk untended the next day to honor his promise to drive into Davy to see Arthur Smith. Though he grumbled internally about leaving his work, and he did need to talk more to Barry and Olivia about what had happened when they were in the Goldthorpe house (there’d been no chance for him to get the full story), he had to admit he was anxious to hear whatever Arthur had to tell him. Davy only seemed a large town in comparison to Midnight. Though it was just a few minutes’ drive north, Davy had many more restaurants and shops. It was also the county seat, with the usual cluster of lawyers around the usual courthouse. Since Davy was also on a small river where rafting and canoeing were possible, the town conducted a brisk tourist trade in the summer and early fall.

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