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Kel-Tec rifle, still snug in its case, out of the hidden compartment in the top of the cabinet where she kept the less-legal merchandise. It was sitting on top of the table where she cleaned firearms. Walking over to the rifle, she unlatched the case and opened it, turning it toward Billy as if she were showing off precious jewelry.
    Giving a satisfied nod, Billy picked up the rifle and unfolded it, running experienced hands over the gun. “How much?”
    â€œIf it were a normal SUB 2000, I’d say five,” she said. Her stomach twisted again as she spoke. Rory always hated bargaining, especially with Billy. She just wanted the sale to be done and these three hard-eyed men out of her store. She should’ve just sold the gun to Zup in the first place, but she’d let irritation win. “Since it’s untraceable, let’s go with twelve.”
    â€œEight.”
    â€œOne thousand.”
    â€œDone, if you throw in two boxes of ammo.”
    â€œOne box.”
    â€œFine.” He twisted his head so he could glare at Zup, who was leaning against the wall next to the door. His expression hadn’t changed. “See how simple that was? Now Rory has the cash, and we have the rifle. Easy-fucking-peasy.”
    Zup didn’t answer. He just glared at the gun.
    â€œI don’t know why we keep dealing with this temperamental bitch,” Rave grumbled, as if Rory wasn’t even in the room.
    â€œFeel free to shop at Walmart instead,” she shot back. Her nerves were stretched almost to the breaking point, which made her snappy.
    â€œBetter just to take you out,” Rave said so flatly, so matter-of-factly, that Rory knew he could kill her with little remorse.
    â€œI said that’s enough!” Billy barked. “Rory’s not the problem. If my son had pulled his head out of his ass when he was here yesterday, this wouldn’t have been a fucking issue.”
    Zup slammed out of the back room, followed closely by Rave. As they left, Billy tucked the rifle back in its case, apparently unbothered by the other men’s anger.
    â€œLike two hormonal teenage girls,” he grumbled, but then grinned at her. Somehow, that friendly smile just made him all the more unsettling. “Have anything else worth checking out back here?”
    â€œI just got a SwissMiniGun,” she told him, the thought of her new acquisition making her relax slightly. “It’s up front.”
    His smile faded into a grumpy pout. The resemblance between father and son was suddenly striking. “One of those tiny things? Why would I want to see that?”
    â€œBecause it’s an engineering marvel.” When he continued to frown at her, Rory snorted. “Why do guys only like the big stuff?”
    â€œOvercompensation,” he said, straight-faced.
    She forgot how dangerous Billy was for just a few seconds as she laughed.
    * * *
    â€œI want the little one,” the woman whined, pointing at the Phoenix HP22A while tugging on Phil’s arm with her other hand. “It’s cute.”
    Phil winced slightly. “You need something with more stopping power than a .22. A .38 at the minimum. Better to go with a nine millimeter.”
    His latest fling was obviously not listening. “Do you have anything with some bling? Something flashy, with crystals, maybe?” she asked Rory, who suppressed a grimace with enormous effort. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t used to this. Phil, one of the rescue dive-team members, dragged his latest infatuation into her shop every couple of months, and he definitely had a type—blond, stacked, and high-maintenance.
    â€œNo.” Rory couldn’t hold still anymore. She gave up her position perched on her stool and paced behind the counter. Phil was a great customer, but after spending the past half hour dealing with his newest girlfriend, Rory’s patience was fraying.
    Phil gave her an apologetic look and tried to