23
“Where’d you get it?” Levi Merkle, the sharp old owner of the pawn shop where Taylor Smith was attempting to sell the mobile phone he had found, asked, shrewdly guessing that whatever answer he was given would be a lie. It was not that he cared about being lied to when it came to the origins of anything that came into his shop, he simply wanted to be able to say, with his hand on his heart, and the fingers of his other hand crossed behind his back, that he didn’t know it was stolen, or otherwise acquired by dubious means.
Taylor smiled as innocently as he could. “It’s a birthday present, from me nan, but I’ve already got a good phone, so I don’t need it.”
Levi smiled back, and refrained from asking where the box and the accessories were if the phone was new, and simply an unwanted pr
