Things were going well, until we got arrested.
By our own security.
No lawyer, no rights read, even our own boss turned on us.
Because now we were being studied like the very people we were studying before.
Or trying to.
You see, we couldn’t find any trace of those people, except for faint traces of biological material that were old enough to be historical.
Everyone was starting to think they were some sort of urban legend.
Until we went on a short vacation.
And came back as one of the specimens we were looking for.
We used to be scientists. Now we were terrorists.
All because of a really tasty, gooey, sweet bun.
And we got it at a restaurant that no one could find…
“I know what you’re all hiding here.”
The boy was my age, but was acting like some investigative reporter he’d been watching on old movies too much.
“So you say? Did you want another serving of pancakes – or go right to our famous apple pie?
“No, seriously. There are secrets to this little town and I need you to tell me the details.”
I looked around and only saw one other couple in the place, so I sat down with him.
“What’s your name?”
“Hi, George, my name is Suzy. So what are these secrets you think we are ‘all hiding’?”
George leaned over to tell me like a conspirator. His blue eyes were twinkling, which made him even cuter. Plus, his scent was – well, attractive.
“Suzy, you may not believe me, but I’ve been doing research on this town. And – it’s pretty spooky.”
I had to smile. “George, I’ve grown up in this town, spent most of my childhood here. So tell me what makes this any ‘spookier’ than some town up the road.”
“Well, to begin with, there’s no accidents around here. No hospitalizations. In fact, no one seems to leave town at all.”
“Sure, maybe that could be. But going to neighboring towns to shop wouldn’t show up on any reports anywhere. Or other people coming here to visit our restaurant.”
He raised his eyebrow, and looked steady into my eyes. Of course, my heart raced a bit at that. I did tell you he’s cute…
“Yes, that’s right. But I’ve been to the towns nearby and nobody has any recollection of seeing someone from here.”
“So? What does that prove?”
George sat back. “That’s why I’m here. To find out enough to finish writing the scoop I need.”
I chuckled. “You need a scoop? What — someone told you that silly story to get you out of their hair just for some assignment?”
He nodded. “Wait, you read minds, too? How did you know I was in a course on this?”
“You just did. You just said you ‘need’ a scoop. That’s a journalist class of some sort. Meaning you have to be in college, since that’s way beyond what you need for a school newspaper or yearbook.”
He still looked at me a bit spooked. “But mind-reading would fit that story…”
I sat back and grinned. “You’ve been missing your classics. Sherlock Holmes? Mrs. Marpel? Poirot? How about simple observation and deduction?”
George smiled at this and relaxed. “OK, you got me there. But the weird part I can’t get is all the miracles that happen around here.”
My mouth dropped open at this. He was getting a little close now.
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