“Your store’s named after a science fiction book. His is named after a science fiction magazine. What’s the dif?” The man started for the door.

“I just thought he might be more original. Especially since his taste is mostly suspense and thrillers.”

“Yeah? Well, at least he pays.” The man walked out.

Kyle watched him leave, once again wondering how long he’d be able to stay in business. The outlook had been bleak even without competition. Rollie’s opening probably sounded his death knell.

Maybe they should leave Montgomery. The thought had never occurred to him before—this was their home—but perhaps the time had come to consider it. They had no other family here. Anita was going to be unemployed, and unless Wal-Mart’s optometry department suddenly needed an extra assistant, it was going to be difficult for her to find a job. Nick was in the middle of high school, but he had no girlfriend, his best friend was in jail and his other friend was missing, so it wouldn’t be much of a hardship for him to relocate.

The idea of getting a fresh start someplace else was definitely appealing. He knew this town, he liked the people in it (for the most part), he loved this area, but things had changed since the bank had moved in next door. And he wasn’t sure they would ever return to the way they had been.

An actual customer walked in, an older gentleman with an anachronistic handlebar mustache. Kyle had never seen him before, but the man seemed to know what he wanted, and after a quick look around the shop to orient himself, he walked over to the nonfiction section, pulling several books off the shelves and bringing them over to the front counter. They were all art books and all somewhat pricey. It was Kyle’s first sale in three days, and while it was definitely nice to have money coming in, it brought home to him even more how unsustainable his financial situation was.

Soon after, Trixie stopped by. “Hey,” he said. “How’s Trix?”

“I saw a customer walk past my window. With books in hand!”

Kyle chuckled. “Yes. An honest-to-God customer. It’s been awhile since I’ve had one of those.”

“Tell me about it.”

“So what’s that?” he asked, pointing. In her hand, she was holding a clipboard.

She placed it on the counter in front of him. “A petition. Our downtown association—which you are a part of, even if you didn’t show for our meeting,” she chided. “—was hoping you’d sign it.”

“What’s it for?” He picked up the clipboard, reading the text at the top of the attached page. His would be only the second signature after her own.

“It’s a protest against The First People’s Bank. It requests that the town council approve the establishment of a municipal bank.”

“A municipal bank?”