Untraceable

Survival Skill #10

If lost, do not be impulsive. Patience can be the difference between life and death.

~

I smother my sarcasm and motion toward the back wall where rods are obviously on display. “Sorry, sir, this is a fishing shop.”

He removes his hat and glances around the store until his black eyes fixate on the tall glass case. “Let me see one of them knives.” Without waiting, he moves around the counter and eyes the locked display. “How about that one?”

“Sir, that’s a limited edition. What kind of knife are you looking for?”

He leans in and reads the sales tag of the weapon he’s admiring. “A Browning Russ Kommer. Custom Limited Edition Knife.”

He chuckles as I unlock the case and take out the box. “This is custom-made. Hand carved with a black ash burl handle.”

“Yeah, I can read.” The man gives me a nod without even looking at the knife. “I’ll take it.”

I hesitate never knowing anyone to drop this much money on a knife. Must be nice to buy something on sight without caring about the price tag. “Sir, it’s a thousand dollars.”

He waves me off and browses through the display of GPS watches. “Go ahead and ring her up.”

“Sir, are you sure? We have other ones.” I have no clue why I’m attempting to talk this guy out of buying a knife, and my piggy bank out of a large commission.

He frowns. “I said I’d take it.”

“Okay.” I feel a bit guilty for protesting in the first place. Tommy really needs a big sale. My hands shake as I punch in numbers on the register. This one transaction adds up to more than Tommy’s store makes in a week. Maybe even a month. I can feel the man staring at me. Without looking up, I recite his total. “That’ll be $1,007.37. Do you want a bag?”

He pulls a wad of cash from his back pocket and counts out ten one-hundred-dollar bills plus a twenty. “Nah, I’ll just take it with me.” The man chuckles as he takes the box. When the receipt pops out the top, he rips off the little piece of paper and turns away from the counter. The whole time whistling the same song that I still can’t name.

I call after him. “Sir, your change?”

He doesn’t even bother to look back. “Keep it. This place needs it more than I do.”

Before I can protest any more, the wind chimes on the front door clap together, announcing his exit. I sit on the stool, staring at the extra money before dropping it in the Save the Bears donation jar. I mumble, “The animals thank you.”

A few seconds later, Wyn struts up and leans on the counter. “Hey you.”

I can’t help but grin. “What are you doing here?” I look at my watch. There’s no way he could have eaten lunch in thirty minutes. Poor Skyler, she probably had to have her Cobb salad and water all alone. The thought lifts my spirits.

Wyn winks. “I thought I’d stop by to bug you before I head home.”

“Oh, lucky me.” I glance through the window to see if the redneck is still in the street. “Hey, did you see the big dude that walked outta here?”

Wyn thumbs over his shoulder. “The jolly red giant? Yeah, why? Was he bothering you? ‘Cause if he was, I can take care of him.”

I scoff because Wyn isn’t nearly as tough as he sounds. I happen to know he’s been afraid of spiders since the first grade. Totally freaked out every time we watched Charlotte’s Web in class. I snicker. “Oh? And what will you do? Talk him to death?”