He was startled to find a cleancut man in a gray business suit standing to his right. “No,” Kyle said, shaking his head.

“Very well. Please let me know if I can be of any assistance.”

Kyle walked forward, further into the bank. How could this place be so much bigger than his store when the original space had been smaller? He passed one teller window. And another. And another. If he’d taken this many steps toward the rear of Brave New World, he’d already be in the alley.

Suddenly, there did seem to be an employee Kyle recognized. He was not sure where he knew him from, but the man emerging from a side office—

Had there been a side office before? Could there be a side office?

—looked familiar. The man approached him, and in a sudden flash, Kyle understood who he was.

The mentally ill homeless guy he’d kicked out of the bookstore.

His hair might be cut and combed, and he was wearing a white shirt and tie, but Kyle recognized him by the expression on his face. “Did you eat it?” the man asked, the familiar crazy words spoken in a calm, matter-of-fact manner. “You need to eat it.” The man smiled, and missing teeth revealed the real person under the civilized veneer. “Are you going to call the sheriff? I’m the sheriff. The other police are pansies.”

It was a replay of their last interaction, and the fact that it was taking place here, in this professional business environment, left Kyle feeling off balance. How had this lunatic gotten hired, and what could his job possibly be? Hadn’t the person who hired him noticed yet that there was something wrong with him? Hadn’t his co-workers?

He was surprised that the man wasn’t yelling at him, shouting incoherent threats.

Suddenly, Kyle regretted coming over to the bank. It had been in response to the phone call and the weird noises he’d heard through the wall, but whatever he had hoped to find was not here, and he did not even know what that could possibly be. He was also not sure he’d locked the door to his store before walking over.

“You have to eat it,” the man before him said in a calm, rational manner, and Kyle turned away and left the bank the way he’d come in.

He had not locked the door—

How was that possible?

—but a quick check showed him that the register was untouched, and it didn’t seem as though anyone had come in during the short time he’d been gone.