Monte stepped through the door of the Sportsman’s Stop, flipped the light switch and came to a total halt. The place was a mess. I didn’t have this much stuff. I couldn’t have. The whole floor was littered with items of sporting goods, scattered boxes—mostly split open—and torn paper and plastic, a few shards of glass or ceramics.
He hesitated a moment, looking around. “There wasn’t much in the till, maybe fifty in small bills and change, but I guess I’d better check it.” He had to kick things aside to get to the counter where the cash register sat. He heard Jed following him.
To all appearances, the register had not even been touched. He entered the code to unlock it and the drawer slid open. As near as he could figure, not a penny was missing. “Guess they weren’t after the money.” He s
