It still seemed a strange location for a bank, not least because there was parking only on the street. There was no adjacent lot or parking structure, not even enough spaces for employees in the back. The entire thing seemed poorly planned out, and Kyle wondered how such a thing had ever gotten approval from the planning commission or the town council, both of which had become by-the-book sticklers about making sure renovations and new developments provided adequate parking after condos built near the golf course ten years ago turned out not to have enough parking spaces available for the number of units constructed.

Where was the bank going to keep its money? he wondered. As Gary had said, there wasn’t enough room for the type of walk-in safe that most banks had. The former retail space was almost exactly the same size as Brave New World. Its boundaries were defined by the flat walls it shared with his store on one side and Trixie Johnson’s consignment shop on the other.

He pulled into his parking spot and got out of the truck, locking it.

The whole situation seemed more than a little off.

Walking past the twin blue dumpsters shared by the business tenants in this block of buildings, Kyle was surprised to find the rear entrance to the bookstore locked. Opening up, he walked in, turning on the lights. Where was Gary? He was supposed to have opened this morning. True, it was only ten minutes after nine, but his clerk was seldom, if ever, late. If he was going to be tardy, he always called, texted or, in the case of a doctor’s appointment, talked to Kyle in person and made arrangements ahead of time.

It occurred to him that Gary might be next door, applying for a job. Kyle supported his friend’s efforts to find a new place to work and didn’t begrudge him applying at the bank, but if that was the case, it would have been nice if he’d been informed so he could have shown up a little earlier.

In the storage space, Kyle got money out of the safe for the register. He was going to miss Gary when he was gone. The two of them had been through a lot together. On the other hand, it would be convenient having his friend work at the bank next door, if that’s where he ended up finding employment. He might even open up a business account there and start making daily deposits rather than using his little safe.

Kyle counted out bills and placed the money in the register before putting on one of his “morning” CDs (Solid Colors by Liz Story, who at one point had lived over in Prescott, although he had no idea where she made her home now). He unlocked the front door. Outside, there was a small crowd on the sidewalk. Odd to have people lined up for a bank opening, he thought, but when he talked to Julie Hopper, who was standing at the end of the line in front of the bookstore’s window, he found out the bank was not only offering free food and beverages as part of its grand opening, but was giving out tote bags to anyone who showed up and an assortment of gift cards to those who opened new accounts.