I got the call around 2 p.m. They said a candy sugar crash had hit their place of work. This can be a tough town, I told them. There is always a clear plastic bowl filled with miniature chocolates in reception. This time of year the Halloween candy can show up early. It’s criminal – and food crimes are the
My catfish Bicycle was 20 minutes into their workout on our new aqua treadmill when their hydrophone rang. “Blub, blub,” they mouthed in my direction, quickly transferring the call and motioning for me to pick up. I put a headset on over my Monday hockey helmet. “Yell-o,” I said casually. “Did you say “yellow?” A voice whispered tensely. “Yes,” I
The text came in old school: via Cowbell Morse code. “You’re a little rusty,” my catfish Bicycle mimed to me while I wrote down the incoming message. “Got it,” I quickly flagged back to Bicycle in semaphore, “And no one’s called me Little Rusty since second grade.” The message was clear: an etymologist had fallen down a naming rabbit hole
Tuesday was on my calendar for a meeting on Monday. It had been there since Thursday penciled it in on Friday. I was confusing myself as to who was what-day and what-day was who so I tried to clear my mind by counting backward from a coil-of-rope-snare to an arch-shaped-bone using the ancient Egyptian numbering system. That steadied me. When
It was the kind of month that gave a grown man a hangnail—the really nasty kind that snags easily on wool sweaters in the dry fall air and requires Neosporin and a superhero Band-Aid. I had been working a case that had me stumped. Ginny Grapefruit had rolled into my office looking for her roots. “I’m from the citrus family,”
I was soaking my hands in a mixture of Palmolive and probiotic yogurt when I got the call. This was the moment I had been waiting for. Three weeks undercover playing a retired hand model making a comeback was taking its toll. “Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line whispered. “I’m scared.” “Go on,” I said. “The
I was already on my second cup of hot water with lemon when the phone rang. “FruitGuy, are you experienced with Vegans?” The voice on the other end didn’t sound alien but I wasn’t taking chances. Creatures from the Vega star were known natural mimics and sadistic practical jokers. I still wake up with night sweats thinking about the abduction
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