June 19, 2003

10:30 a.m.

Tom Nook stood in the shop's muddy doorway, blinking at the brilliant sunlight that, now that the rain had finally let up, was flooding the very tired, very dirty town of Lemon. He surveyed his shop's front gardens, the flowers wilted and brown, the small saplings bent and shivering. For the middle of June, it was downright freezing.

He let out a sigh. He'd known something big was going down, and he was almost ashamed to admit that he was glad it was finally over with. For a month he'd been almost too nervous even to work in the shop, and often had found himself getting impatient with his kids or a customer. In fact, two days ago he'd been horrified to find himself standing behind Kitty, who was bending over examining a used carpet Nook was very discreetly trying to pass off as new, with a golden axe hoisted in the air. He'd urgently flung it aside, just in time. Kitty gave him a searing look that told she'd determined the state of the carpet. She'd shaken her oddly large head and left quietly without saying a word.

Nook, standing in the doorway, let out another sigh. In the distance, the Wishing Well was buzzing with activity. Tortimer had called an emergency town meeting for that afternoon, and Mable and Booker were setting up chairs and tables, hooking up the microphones, and trying desperately top keep Wandering Wendell away from the seafood patte. Mink had insisted on Nook's attendance, claiming it would be suspicious if he were the only one who didn't turn up.

"Turn up, turn up...turnip. God, I'm hungry."

He re-entered the shop, closing the door behind him.

10:34 a.m.

Pinky took a deep breath, then nodded. Officer Copper narrowed his eyes at her, then shrugged and lifted the sheet.

"Holy Christ."

"I told you it was bad. Nook found him early this morning."

"Have we found the head?"

"Not yet. There were some prints outside in the mud, but by the time we got there the rain had partially washed 'em away. No sign of forced entry, nothing stolen."

"Any suspects? Nook?"

"We're working on it. We can't rule out Nook, but personally I don't think it was him."

"What was he doing there at-" she looked at the report,"two twenty-five in the morning? And, according to this, his call to 911 came in at four fifteen. That's almost two hours."

"His footprints were at the scene, but they're not the only ones. Either he had an accomplice or he's telling the truth."

"Well, what took him two hours to make the call?"

Copper shrugged.

"And has anyone heard from Nosegay?"

"No, but we're not exactly worried about it. She doesn't really have any close friends in the villiage, and she's known to sometimes be away for six, seven days at a time. I saw her yesterday."

"Ok. When she gets back, I want you to keep an eye on her. Give me a call if you find anything else. Like the head. When you get those prints back from the lab, send them over right away. And, for Christ sake, can't you get someone else to set up for the meeting? We need Booker to develop the scene photos."

"Have you talked to the mayor?"

Pinky pulled off her gloves while Copper carefully replaced the sheet and slid what was left of Sven back into his drawer, "Not yet. Except for the message he left here this morning, about the meeting, no one has. Let me ask you something."

"Shoot."

"You don't think he has his reptilian fingers in this mysterious pie, do you?"

Copper thought for a second. Slowly, he said, "I can't say for sure. All I know is, he's been...distant lately. He's usually pretty involved in the day-to-day shit around here. In fact, I think it's been about a week since I've even talked to him."

Pinky nodded, "Well, look. Just keep your eyes open. You can trust me, and I turst you, Copper. Anyone else...well, we'll see. I'm out of here."

"Have a safe trip."

Pinky shoved her notes into her fuscia briefcase and disappeared into the blinding sun. Copper stared after her for a moment, then sat at his desk and picked up the phone.