Final Sale (Book 3, the Night Shift series)

Chapter One

Only one person knew the answer—The Great Magnifico.

Needing reassurance, he took out the letter. He gently unfolded the brittle, yellowed parchment, taking special care not to drop the black and white photograph tucked inside.

Dear Daniel,                              April 18, 1918

You can save them.

He repeated that phrase inside his head as he read over the specific instructions. It seemed so simple; find the theatre and give The Great Magnifico the letter from Mr. Willard. That's all he had to do.

Simple.

The letter continued,

To give them a future you must find them in the past. I cannot explain further than this. All will be revealed in time. I look forward to seeing you again.

Daniel refolded the paper and slipped it back inside his coat pocket. Apparently he and Mr. Willard were on good terms.

"Impossible," he whispered. However, Daniel knew better than anyone that impossible was just a word. Pressing his lips in a hard line, he pushed away the logic. He didn't have to understand; he needed to believe.

He examined the black and white photograph again. The stamp, MacPherson & Son, was on the back along with the date, April 17, 1918. Daniel flipped over the picture, concentrating on the details. He was posing with the magician, their arms around each other's shoulders, smiling into the camera.

Impossible.

A light static played inside his head. "Shut up," he murmured, shutting the door on his doubt. He tucked away the photograph and made his way to the southern part of the park, exiting at Columbus Circle.

Daniel felt inside his pockets. He had no tokens for the subway, only the pocket watch. He gave it a little pat for good luck. It would be a long walk.

He headed south down 8th Avenue trying not to stare into the face of every young girl who passed him on the sidewalk, hoping to see Mary.

The traffic was teeming with all sorts of transportation; carriages, old-fashioned cars he'd only seen in museums and black and white movies, and streetcars following tracks built into the ground with a cable attached above. There was even a street-washer machine being pulled by two horses. The sidewalk was full of people and it struck Daniel that everyone was wearing a hat. The men, the woman, even some of the children.

He was nudged in the elbow as a little boy ran past him, the bright red patch sewn clumsily on the side of his cap. Most people, Daniel noticed, walked in pairs or groups. There were no cell phones or headphones. Instead, people were talking to each other.

Among all the conversations and smiles, he felt alone. There was only one other person in the world who felt his pain—Blanche. A stab of guilt hit Daniel unexpectedly.

He'd left things cold and unsettled between them. He was so clouded with grief that he couldn't make amends. And now he was in another time, walking toward his only hope. Maybe he should have taken Blanche with him. For the first time he considered what might be happening back in the present.

What would Alice do when no one could find him?

Daniel stumbled, catching himself before he tripped again. The nausea he'd felt when he first arrived was creeping back. Blackness spread into his visual periphery. He stopped and doubled over, hands on his knees. Waves of disorientation washed over him. He tried to push the nausea back down, but it grew stronger. He spied a narrow alley across the street.