11:01 a.m.

Tom Nook heard the bell over the door ring, and he shoved the last bit of peach cobbler in his mouth and made his way out of the crowded stock room. By his own rules, there was absolutely no eating in the shop, but he'd been starving all day. Maybe it was stress.

When he entered the main storeroom, he saw a vaguely familiar-looking pink and white panda standing in the doorway, casting cautious looks at his wares. Nook cleared his throat and she jumped slightly.

Pinky smiled, "Charming store you've got here."

"Why thank you!" Nook wiped his mouth with a napkin and shoved it in his pocket, smiling his customary phony smile, "Welcome to Nook's Cranny! Your one-stop shopping emporium! I'm Tom Nook, owner."

"How quaint. My name is Pinky, I work for the State Department of Law Enforecement," she offered her hand.

Nook took it, his smile faltering slightly, "The state, huh? What brings you to our humble villiage?"

Pinky laughed, "Surely you're aware of the horrible crime that was committed against one of your fellow villiagers?"

"Oh, of course! It simply was a tragedy," Nook mopped his brow with his soiled napkin, "You know, Sven was always a loyal customer. Always such a nice lad, very polite. In fact, I was the one who...happened upon him. Simply awful, I don't know why anyone would want to...do such a terrible thing. Sven! He wouldn't hurt a fly."

Pinky picked up a heavy gardening shovel Nook had priced at double what he'd paid. She dropped it back onto the floor and raised an eyebrow at the salesman, "Heavy! What's it do?"

"I'm sorry?"

"What does it do? Surely it's not merely a standard shovel! Not for," she squinted at the tag, "500 bells?"

"Well, it's very expensive to have them shipped you know, because of the weight. Pete simply hates delivering them."

"I see." Pinky looked at Nook appraisingly, then smiled. Nook nervously tittered, then managed a slight smile of his own.

"I actually have a reason to come see you today, Mr. Nook. I've decided to stay in town for a few days, helping with the investigation, you know. The police force here in Lemon is so under-staffed. So I'll be needing a place to stay. I've heard you have a few empty...what are you calling them, shacks? that you may be able to rent out."

"Ah...ah, well, yes, I am the owner o-of some real estate, but..I usually don't rent. No, no, you always lose a profit when you rent, because you're still responsible for the upkeep." Nook seemed satisfied with his answer and tried to make himself look taller and more intimidating than he actually was.

"But surely you could make an exception? I'd be willing to pay upfront."

"Ah, ah, you see, that's going to be a problem, b-because-"

"Because I've already rented out the shacks through the weekend."

Pinky, startled, turned toward the sound of this new voice. Tortimer was leaning on his cane in the doorway, beaming at the two of them.

"Mayor Tortimer! What an honor to see you again, sir." Nook let out a sigh of obvious relief.

"Pinky is it?" Tortimer said, ignoring Nook, "I remember you from the Jingle investigation! Fine work, fine work, love. But about those houses! I'm terribly sorry, but I have guests coming and I've rented them through into next week. Perhaps you could stay at the new Comfort Inn in Flatpoint? It's only a short train ride away, and they're very reasonable."

"Yes, that's an idea. At any rate, I wanted to talk to you about the investigation, Mr. Mayor, if you have a few moments."

"I'm afraid not, my dear," Tortimer was still beaming, his toothy grin stretched tight across his weathered face, "I've got a town meeting to prepare for. I'm sure all your questions about the investigation will be answered there. I've simply come to check with Mr. Nook to see if the beverage cart is ready?" He raised his bushy eyebrows at Nook, who muttered something and hurried out of the room.

"No offense, Mr. Mayor, but I'm no simple villiager hungry for the latest gossip. I've been sent here by the state to investigate, and I expect full cooperation from you and your forces."

Tortimer still smiled at her, but there was a hint of maleviolence in his voice when he said, "You might want to think about who you're talking to, dear. I've got a lot of connections, a lot of friends at the state."

Pinky stiffened. She stared at the Mayor, struggling to keep her composure, "Is that so? Well let me tell you something, Mayor: My father just so happens to go by the name Art Fowler. That's right, the state's attorney general. More powerful men than you have stood in my way, only to be crushed like the little pissants they were. One letter, and I could be running this hokey shithole. You might just want to keep that in mind. Good day."

And with that, she stormed out of the shop, almost knocking the stunned mayor over in her haste to make a grand exit.

Tortimer looked after her for a moment, gritting his wooden teeth, scowling. Art Fowler? Art "Prowler" Fowler, the man who once, as a young proesecutor in Maple County, sentenced a woman to seventeen years hard time for stealing a loaf of bread to feed her four children? Holy fuck.

"Here you are, sir, all ready. I've made my extra-special Pina Colada Punch, some iced peach tea, lemonade, and of course coffees, hot teas, chocol-"

"Shut up, Nook. Let me think for Christ's sake."

Nook, crestfallen, pretended to straighten up the beverage cart while the mayor stared stonily out the door. Finally, Tortimer shook his head and made his way out into the muddy front garden.

"Mayor!" Nook called after him. Tortimer turned, distractedly.

"The beverage cart! I need someone to take it to the plaza, I can't leave the shop."

Tortimer looked annoyed, "Look, whatever. Don't even bother. And yes, you can still submit the fucking bill to the town. Jesus Christ, I've got better things to worry about right now."

He stormed off, muttering to himself. Nook huffed, "Hmph! They sure will be disappointed when there's no Pina Colada Punch!"