Free Olympus Device 2: The Olympus Device Book Two by Joe Nobody Page B

Dusty and said, “I’m not going much further into town. I turn off soon. Do you want to stay or go on with me?”
    Considering the nearby hotel and availability of food, Dusty extended his hand to the man, “I think I’ll be good here. Thank s for the ride.”
    As Dusty returned to studying the computers, the door opened and admitted another customer. Dusty spied a middle-aged, very attractive woman who was carrying something wrapped in a kitchen dishtowel. Curious, he watched her march up to the counter and unwrap a stainless steel revolver.
    “How much can I get for this pistol?” she asked, a hint of desperation in her voice.
    “Do you want to pawn it or sell it?” The broker asked, almost like a spider who sensed a fly buzzing by his net.
    “I want to sell it… I think. Can’t I get more if I sell it?”
    “Sometimes,” came the answer.
    “Then I want to sell it.”
    Dusty, being a man who earned a living working on firearms, was curious about the impending transaction. He’d caught just a glance of the wheel gun as the lady had unwrapped it, and wanted to get a closer look. He casually meandered toward a display case full of gold and silver, feigning interest in the shimmering baubles while casting side-glances at the weapon.
    It was a .357 Colt Python, nickel finish with a snub 2.5-inch barrel. A classic! It’s the pawnbroker’s lucky day, Dusty thought.
    After studying the computer screen for several moments, the man behind the counter peered over the top of the monitor and said, “It’s not worth much. Everybody wants high capacity, plastic guns these days. I’ll give you $200 for it.”
    It took all of Dusty’s discipline not to shout out in protest. He wanted to find some way to signal the woman that she was being taken advantage of; he knew that weapon was easily worth $3800. This guy was trying to rip her off. He glanced up at the lady, hoping she would make eye contact with him. Her wrinkled brow made it clear she was trying to make a decision, but some inner voice was telling her it wasn’t a good deal. Look at me , Dusty kept thinking. Look me in the eye . 
    Before she could respond, the jingle of a cell phone so unded in her purse. She reached in and checked the caller-ID being displayed, quickly glancing at the broker and mumbling, “Give me a minute.” She then turned toward Dusty and answered the call.  
    “They’re not supposed to turn of f the electricity until five!” she hissed into the phone. “You go out there and tell that guy in the utility truck I have until 5:00 p.m. to pay the bill. They promised me when I called!”
    She paused, listening to the speaker for a few moments before continuing. “I’m in Laredo selling one of papa’s guns. As soon as I get the money, I’m going to pay the bill… okay… I will… love you too. We’ll be okay sweetheart; I promise.”
    Dusty moved quickly as she fumbled to return the phone, trying his best to make the collision seem accidental. His slight bump into the harried gal gave him the excuse to reach out and grab her shoulder – a benign gesture to make sure she was steady. “I’m so sorry, ma’am,” he said, “Are you okay?”
    She waved him off, “ Yes, I’m fine.”
    Dusty didn’t let loose of her shoulder and leaned in closer. “That gun is worth $3,000. Don’t take his offer.”
    For a moment, she didn’t seem to understand what he was saying. She looked into his eyes for what seemed like a very long time before finally whispering, “Thank you.”
    Returning to the counter with new confidence, she reached for the pistol. “You’re trying to screw me… probably just because you think I’m some dumb girl or something. That pistol is worth a lot more than 200 bucks. I’ll take it over to the other pawnshop and see what they’ll give me for it.”
    “Hold on,” the man said, “Let me look at it one more time. So many of these look the same.”
    Dusty couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer.