The Pawnbroker Read Online Free Page A

“We still have no idea why Baza suddenly let the pawnshop go to crap. The place was making money, according to the books. At least the books we can find.”
    â€œWe got the place for way below market,” Gordon said. “The bank was eager, but Baza’s records are a major fuckup we’re still trying to straighten out. He was forcing us to pay for access to an old safe where he claimed he kept backups on the business.”
    â€œWhat’s the name of the pawnshop anyway?” Nancy asked.
    â€œBaza named it the Three Balls Pawnshop. You know—the historic pawnshop symbol,” Charlie added with a shrug.
    â€œDisgusting name,” Nancy said. “Gina told me you two bought a business. Considering you’re just out of the army, I was thinking it was probably a bar or a gun shop.”
    â€œHey, that’s a thought. A gun shop/tavern. On tap or double tap,” Gordon suggested.
    Nancy and Charlie groaned and shook their heads almost in unison.
    â€œBad day for gallows humor,” Charlie said. “The day’s fading, how about we get to it?” He reached out to shake Nancy’s hand. She gave him a hug instead, something he’d missed out on since leaving the service. He’d had a lot of friends among the women soldiers in his battalion, and women tended to hug a lot.
    â€œCall me when you get anything new on Gina’s condition,” Charlie said, stepping back. “And Baza’s address. Got my number?”
    Nancy nodded. “Yours and Gordon’s. How about the pawnshop’s?”
    Gordon rattled it off, and Nancy tapped it into her cell phone. They left by different doors. Nancy had parked in a police slot, and Charlie had left his Charger in another lot on the opposite side of the building.
    â€œSo what’s the story on Nancy?” Gordon asked as they cruised down Second Street a few minutes later. “She’s got the build and looks to be a model. What’s she doing wearing a cop uniform?”
    â€œAll I know is what Gina’s told me. Nancy’s father and mother were both career air force, and Nancy grew up moving around her whole life. Military brat.”
    â€œYou’d think she’d want to fly, then. Go to the academy.”
    â€œNaw, her folks were APs, air police. Nancy got a degree in law enforcement, and ended up in the Albuquerque Police Department. She and Gina met at the courthouse, actually, and have been together for about three years, I think.”
    â€œNot just roommates?”
    â€œNothing gets past you, Gordo.”
    â€œWell, too bad for me. She comes across as a good cop, so I’ll look forward to working with her. Now let’s find something to eat.”
    *   *   *
    Twenty-five minutes later, Charlie parked the Dodge in a space along the curb in front of the Three Balls Pawnshop. It was a solid, fifties-era flat-roofed brick structure with a not-so-subtle black-on-white sign centered above the entrance. The traditional symbol for a pawnbroker’s shop, three golden spheres suspended from a metal bar, hung above the door.
    The windows had been bricked over years ago, and the door was made of reinforced steel with updated locks set in a steel frame.
    Charlie reached under the seat and retrieved his backup Beretta, still in the shoulder holster, as Gordon climbed out the passenger side holding the bags with their stuffed sopapillas.
    â€œThink we should change the name of the place?” Gordon asked, looking up. “When Baza bought the shop it was Valley Pawn, remember?”
    â€œYeah, I’m guessing he thought it sounded too generic. A lot of the businesses in this neighborhood had ‘valley’ in their name.” Charlie looked up and down the sidewalk. Nobody was within sight, and no cars were approaching, so he removed the semiauto and stuck it in his belt, safety on, and held the shoulder setup in his left hand. This wasn’t a war