“Oh, yeah. Take them straight on.”

“What exactly is a municipal bank?”

“It’s like a publicly owned utility, except it’s a publicly owned bank. Instead of some big private company being in charge, it’s a municipality. A state, county, city, whatever.”

“So Montgomery would open its own bank to compete with First People’s?”

“And, ideally, retroactively withdraw its approval for The First People’s Bank. All three of them.”

“Who’s this Coy Stinson?” Kyle asked, still going over the text.

“He works at Montgomery Community. He’s helping us with this.” She shook her head. “What am I saying? Helping us? He thought of it. We’re going to have him present it to the council in case they ask any technical questions.”

Kyle picked up a pen from the counter. “Well, I’m in,” he said, signing. “You want me to hit up Nancy, for you?”

“Oh, we’re best buddies now. You missed a lot by not showing up.”

He laughed. “I get the hint.”

“Seriously,” she said. “We could’ve used you. Everyone’s united against the bank, but there are a lot of…personalities, let’s say. You could definitely help keep things on track when we get together.”

“I would’ve been there, but that was the day Dr. Wilson—”

“I know,” she said, “and I understand completely. I’m just saying that, going forward, we need you.”

“I’m there,” he promised.

Trixie brightened. “Good!” She took back her clipboard and petition. “I’m off to get more signatures.”

“Good luck.”

There were no more customers for the rest of the morning, although a parade of lowlifes passed by his window on their way to the bank, many of them eyeing him disdainfully. He ate his lunch at the counter, alone and in silence.

At three o’clock, he picked up Nick from school. There weren’t as many parents as usual waiting in the lot. There weren’t quite as many kids exiting the school, either. Nick walked by himself through a sparse crowd up to the truck. He was subdued as they drove away, and when Kyle asked what was wrong, his son just shook his head.

“What is it?” Kyle prodded.

“I don’t know. Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.”

“Just a feeling, I guess.”

“What kind of feeling?”

“I don’t know. Like something’s off, I guess. Or something’s wrong. Or something might…happen.”

“Happen?” Kyle said. “Like what?”

Nick shrugged.

Back at the bookstore, things were not quiet. As soon as he opened the door and walked in, Kyle heard the tapping. His son heard it, too, and the two of them looked at each other.

“What do you think it is?” Nick asked.