Chapter 6

After clearing the table and putting the dishes in the washer, they took off, with Max driving.

* * * *

The man behind the counter, who Max presumed was Deacon, was busy with a customer when Max and Jack arrived. He studied him for a moment. Not quite what I expected. I figured he’d be rough and tough, like hunters in ads I’ve seen. Sort of a redneck. He looks more like a commando with that short haircut. He was surprised when he realized the man was close to his age, from the look of him. Though why I figured he’d be closer to fifty than forty is beyond me. Pulling his attention away from the man, Max looked around. He resisted shuddering at the number and types of guns he saw on the walls and in two display cases.

“Who knew there were so many…styles?” he murmured to Jack, getting a brief grin and a nod in return. “Which did you get?”

“One like this,” Jack replied, pointing.

“Do you have it with you?” Max was very certain he didn’t like the idea that Jack might.