He reached Sumter, South Carolina, by noon. The most logical thing would have been to take the goods to Charleston, a much larger city and one that probably had plenty of pawnshops. But they were also shops that had likely received alerts about stolen goods from the pawnshop murders and robbery in Savannah. He would play it safe and hit only towns with fifty thousand people or fewer. According to his online search, Sumter had five pawnshops, enough to get started with. After that, he planned to move on to Florence then make his way into North Carolina. There, he would repeat the same process—hit several small cities then return to Savannah the next day. That is, if luck was on his side and he came up with a good enough story about how he hated to part with the family treasures. He would say that since his mother needed around-the-clock in-home health care, he saw no other alternative. They needed the cash. Any decent pawnshop owner would feel like a jerk if they tried to lowball him.
He pulled into a truck stop along the freeway just outside Sumter. He would fill up, get a bite to eat, and browse through the attached store before heading into town. He needed a little something to make his identity tougher to figure out, and hopefully, the store would provide that.
After topping off the car, he went inside, paid for the gas, and took a seat at a booth, where he ordered a club sandwich, waffle fries, a soft drink, and apple pie for dessert.
Once full and his tab paid, he continued on into the large store, where everything a trucker could ever need was available, including showers in the back. He wandered up and down the aisles looking for the perfect way to camouflage himself at the pawnshops. He wasn’t going to take any chances of giving away his identity if they had cameras inside, which he assumed they did.
A grin spread across his face when he reached the aisle of hats. He wore a ball cap on occasion, but a cowboy hat was something he’d never thought about. Standing in front of the mirror, he tried on a half dozen before choosing a black one. It would suit him just fine. A dark pair of sunglasses and a South Carolina T-shirt with a big rig across the front finished the look. He paid for the items, went into the dressing room, changed shirts, and placed the hat on his head and the glasses over his eyes. The lenses were so dark that the color of his eyes was impossible to see.
“This is perfect. Now I look like damn near every guy in the truck stop.”
He left the store and returned to his car. The first pawnshop was only three miles away.
He reached the shop, parked, and went to the trunk of his car, where he filled a small suitcase with a little bit of everything. He couldn’t take in a garbage bag full of stolen items. It had to look planned and aboveboard. He’d fill the suitcase at every stop.
When he opened the door, the electronic buzzer went off. The shop was packed with shelves, counters, and display cases filled with goods for sale. The items he wanted to get rid of would fit right in.
“How ya doing, sir?” the shop owner asked.
“Just fine,” he responded. “I’m here to see if you can use some of the things I have in my suitcase.”
“Well, let’s have a look. By the way, I’m George Link.”
“Ah, I guess that’s why your sign says Link’s Pawnshop.”
The men shared a laugh.
He walked to the counter, placed the suitcase on it, and unzipped it. Inside were men’s and women’s jewelry, several nice quality cameras, a pair of binoculars, a flute, silver flatware, and three antique porcelain statues.
“It looks like everything is here but the kitchen sink.”
He feigned sadness. “Yeah, I hate to get rid of these family heirlooms, especially the jewelry, but my mom is in poor health. I’ve spent all of my savings on her in-home caregiver, and now I’ve stooped to pawning off family items. She said I needed to do what I needed to do.”
George seemed to sympathize. “I can’t give you top dollar, you know. I’m in business to make money, and I have to consider my overhead.”
“I realize that, sir. Whatever you think is fair. At least then I can give Mom another month of health care. She’d be too humiliated to have me help her with her daily needs, if you know what I mean.”
“Right. Let’s have a look at that jewelry.” George held each piece under the magnifying lens, checking for gold and silver marks. He weighed the pieces then looked at the diamond rings with a jewelry loupe. “These are nice rings.”
He sighed. “Believe me, I know. My mom always liked nice jewelry.”
George set aside the items he was most interested in.
He mentally totaled the value and hoped for the best while the adding machine hummed along.
“Okay, for all the jewelry, the Pentax thirty-five millimeter camera, these two English porcelain statues, and the binos, I can give you $1,750. I’m sorry, but that’s the best I can do.” George went silent.
“Hmm. Eighteen hundred and you have a deal. I hate to part with these cherished things, but I don’t have a choice any longer. I held out as long as I could.”
“Eighteen hundred, huh? Okay, you have a deal.”
With the exchange made, he thanked George, shook his hand, and walked out with the suitcase and cash. He would fill it again once he reached the next store.
He recited the same story at each of the remaining four shops in Sumter then moved on to Florence. Once he hit the state line in North Carolina, he would call it a day.
It was four thirty by the time he pulled into the driveway of a two-bit motel along the state highway. He wasn’t about to spend much of the forty-five hundred dollars he’d earned so far on fancy accommodations. All he needed was a good meal and a place to lay his head. He reached the North Carolina state line, and tomorrow, he would get an early start, go to Lumberton, and make one exception in the city size by hitting Wilmington before heading south again along the coast. He hoped to go home with at least seven thousand dollars, a good haul for a day and a half of lying to everyone he met.