“He brought the heavy envelope,” I said, watching his shadowy shape reach into the back seat and grab a thick brown folder.

“Do you see the store manager out there?” Sarah asked.

I looked past the yellow cart corrals toward the glass storefront.

A broad-shouldered man with a thick red beard was pushing a long line of metal shopping carts toward the automatic doors.

His huge arms strained the sleeves of his blue store vest.

“That’s Wyatt,” I said.

“He runs the floor on weekday afternoons.”

“He looks like he could pick up the front end of a tractor,” Sarah said.