detectives

“The same trail.” Urania rubbed her quads. “Switchbacks — descending and ascending deep kettles to reach the little brown hut on the hilltop. Three times in a week and a half!”

“And… you’re scowling because… why?” asked the Muse of Many Questions. “I appreciate the challenge. One never knows when the fourleg might put her hindquarters in four wheel drive and step on the gas. We have no choice but to pay attention to every step.” Calliope uncrossed her legs and gave her ankles a twirl. The sound of tendons popping caught Thalia’s attention.

“Besides… Cal and I were urging her to find out if Wandering Words was still in the hut… c’mon Nia… admit it… you were curious, too.”

“I was… and it was… still in the hut, that is… what do you make of that?”

“Well… there was a smudge on the spine.” Calliope picked an author copy off the table and pointed to the spot where she’d noticed the smudge. “At the very least, somebody pulled it out and looked at it.”

“Are you sure? Perhaps the smudge came from us… you know chocolate… or peanut butter?” At the thought of chocolate and peanut butter together, Thalia went to the cabinet where she occasionally found a mini candy bar, sometimes two! She returned empty handed and offered a shrug. “Nothing.”

“I like the mystery of it… we don’t have to know everything… what’s that we read about earlier in the week… detached involvement?”

“Uh-huh,” said Nia. “… observe, ask questions, and calmly keep digging.”