"We don't get many outsiders here. The clientele has been pretty much the same since I've been a kid." Felt like giving him a hint that he had pretty much walked into a den of wolves. Or just a bar full of hunters. Both meant pretty much the same thing.
It wasn't Dad's knife because I was never without it. It wasn't the silver knife. I was trying to remember where I had dropped it. Must've slipped out of my pocket some time. "People don't come to you with the right info."
"Joanna Beth! Why haven't you offered your friend a drink yet?" My mom yelled from across the bar. Turning around to glare at her and then turned back to him I rolled my eyes.
Put my hands on my hips and decided to ignore his rematch comment. "You want somethin' to drink?" Figured there was no way he came all the way to Nebraska to give me back my cheap 19.99 Swiss Army knife. Might as well get a few drinks in him and get him to talk.