“Put your eyes back in your head, Jesse, before you fall down the steps,” Gail said, starting down.
I trotted after Gail.
Marge pulled out of her parking space, waved once, and drove away.
“You been tapping that?” Gail asked.
“What?”
“Come on, that wasn’t a just-friends kiss she planted on you. If you weren’t tapping it, then you really missed out.”
I cleared my throat. “We had a casual relationship, nothing serious.”
Gail chuckled.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing, none of my business anyway.”
I followed her to her van, while trying to figure out why I was embarrassed and why I thought I needed to explain my relationship with Marge to Gail.
At the back of her van, Gail stopped. “I suppose you think you ought to drive.”
I shook my head. “No, I’m comfortable with your driving. I remember how you were in high school. Besides, it’ll make it easier for me to navigate.”
Gail nodded and went to the driver’s side. I waited by the passenger door until she hit the latches. I climbed in and immediately buckled my seatbelt.
“Where to?” Gail asked.
“Memorial Parkway, remember it?”
“Yeah, what’s the quickest way there?”
“Back out the way we came in and then left on Governors Drive.”
“You got it.” She cranked the engine and shifted into drive. When she goosed the gas pedal, I was surprised at both the engine’s roar and the force that shoved me back into the seat. I remembered Gail liking fast cars and preferring to drive them herself, but the old van didn’t look as if it had much life left in it. Apparently, she’d kept the engine tuned up if not souped-up. She kept to the speed limit and followed my directions through the morning rush-hour traffic until I had her stop at Earl’s Hunter’s Paradise.
Gail took in the small sign over the door of the unassuming building and smiled. “You’re getting a forty-five?”
“Always listen to the voice of experience my Dad says. You’re the expert; I’m the trainee. Come on in.”
It was early for most businesses and the only person in the large gun shop was Earl, the grizzled owner. He was unpacking a new Ruger wheel gun when we entered. He looked up and nodded toward me.
“Good morning, Earl. Got time for a sale or two?” I asked.
I held the heavy metal door until Gail passed.
“Always time for a Weaver. You looking for a piece for yourself or your lady friend?”
“Definitely myself, but Gail might want something, also. Earl, this is Gail, we went to high school together.”
“Please to meet you, young lady.” Earl held out his beefy right hand and Gail took it.
“You too, Earl.”
“Nice grip you got there. What’re you packing?” Earl asked.
She glanced at Jesse for a moment and then shrugged. “Colt Rail.”
Earl nodded thoughtfully. “Big piece for a little lady, but you’ve got the grip for it. Take what fits your hand, I always say. So, Jesse, what are you looking for?”
“I was thinking of something with interchangeable magazines with Gail’s.”
“Well, that’d be about any of the Colt’s, best stay with an eight round magazine though. You plan on doing competition shooting or just self-defense?”
“Self-defense is all. Which Colts do you have in stock?” I asked.
“I’ve got the regulars, Commander, Gold Cup, and even a Rail like your friend’s. The Rail has a match barrel, ambidextrous safety, and a Picatinny rail that takes a tactical light or a laser sight. I’ve got both of the attachments in stock.”
“Do you have two of the lasers? I need a replacement,” Gail said.
“Sure I do, let me get everything out. I assume you’re going to want to fire a few magazines in the new gun?” He asked.
“Sure, we don’t have a lot of time today, but I’d like to run a box through it just to get used to it.”
Earl went a few feet down the row of display cases and slid one open. He lifted out a large gun box and brought it back to us.
“What kind of holster you looking for?” he asked, opening the box and turning it toward me. Inside was a black cerakoted, stainless steel Colt.
“Belt, I prefer a kidney holster, right draw. Nice looking piece. What do you think, Gail?”
“It’s a perfect match for mine, without the scratches.”
“You scratched yours up? Not being very careful with it are you?” Earl asked.
Gail shot him a look that would have melted armor plate.
Earl blanched and held up his hands. “Sorry ‘bout that, I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Gail visibly calmed and then nodded.
“Gail is a serious hunter and sometimes things get a little dicey,” I said.
“No need to explain. I was out of line.” Earl plopped a form onto the counter. “Just fill that out and I’ll get your other items.”
Gail waited until Earl had disappeared into a stock room and then said, “Are you sure you want to be buying a registered gun? You wouldn’t want some things traced back to you.”
“No problem, I’m a tax paying citizen. What could go wrong?”
Gail huffed and drew her Colt. She ejected the magazine and handed it to me. I slipped the magazine into the new gun and worked the action. I locked the safety and gingerly held the Colt in various grips and positions, getting a feel for the grip and sights. Removing the magazine, I passed it back to Gail. I ejected the chambered round, catching it in mid-air, just as Earl returned with several boxes.
Earl set the boxes down and then his eye caught the forty-five round as I passed it back to Gail. “Mind if I have a look-see at that ammo?”
Gail shrugged and handed him the round. Earl turned the cartridge over in his fingers, then picked up a magnifying glass and studied the business end. Gail looked at me and I shrugged.
“Yep, I thought this thing looked familiar.” He passed the bullet back to Gail and she reloaded it into the magazine.
“Familiar?” I asked.
“Yep, loaded rounds just like that myself. It’s been a few years, but I don’t forget being asked to load pure silver
