After the exciting events of the mugging, the next week passed by relatively peacefully. Mr. McCarthy stood behind the register, cataloging some new old products. Jenkins knelt by the shelves, busy stocking them with records. Having been so wrapped up in his task, he hadn’t heard the tinkle of the doorbell and jumped when a dark shadow loomed over him. All the blood immediately drained from his head as he turned to face it. He could not see the eyes behind the large, shining, round-rimmed glasses.

“Eep!” Jenkins shouted in terror.

“Excuse me, young man, are you perhaps Jenkins von Hartmann?” the woman inquired, straightening her light pink collared shirt. She was wearing white jeans and cheap, slightly loose-fitting sneakers. They were a knockoff brand she was familiar with; durable for the price, so not something to worry about getting damaged.

“Y-yes, miss. H-how may I help you?” Jenkins stammered, a bit startled at the encounter.

“I’m Pamela Moszkowicz. Pleased to meet you!” Pamela reached out and shook Jenkin’s hand enthusiastically while pulling him up.

Tim was busying himself by wiping tables. He had grown accustomed to strangers waltzing into Retro Records, requesting to see them. Jenkins, however, became flustered every time. Rodney excitedly elbowed Tim in the ribs, causing him to cough and wheeze. 

“What … was that … for?! I’m not fully … recovered yet!” Tim uttered between bursts of coughing.

“Who’s the Amazon? She’s hot!” Rodney whispered, eyeing Pamela as she handed Jenkins her card.

“How should I know? I’ve never seen her before!” Tim responded in irritation. He rubbed the spot where Rodney had elbowed him, all the while glaring.

Jenkins turned around and waved for Tim to join them. Tim looked around before pointing at himself, and Jenkins nodded in reply. There was another sharp pang on his side. Rodney had elbowed him again.

“You lucky bug! Introduce me later!” Rodney demanded.

“Stop that!” Tim growled.

Is this another news reporter? We already told them everything they can know, Tim thought as he approached them. “How may I help you, ma’a—?”

The corner of Pamela’s eye twitched.

“Miss?”

“You must be Timothy Thompson. Nice to meet you!” Pamela also shook his hand enthusiastically. “I’m Pamela Moszkowicz, a researcher specializing in the study of unnatural events.” She then handed Tim her card.

“Um, nice to meet you too …” he responded, flashing his signature grin.

“I heard that you two were involved in a recent mugging incident, and I was wondering if I could have a quick interview with both of you,” Pamela asked them.

“Eeer …” Tim responded hesitantly. “ Nooo…” trailing as he glanced at Mr. McCarthy hopefully, but was devastated when he waved them off, “... problem! Right this way.”

“Great! I’m so excited!” Pamela chortled in delight.

Tim led them to the table in the far corner of the store to avoid distracting their customers. The three of them decided that Pamela would sit in front of them with her back against the wall. Rodney gently placed a steaming latte in front of her, filled with cream hearts.

“For our lovely guest,” he crowed. Tim — and for once, Jenkins — rolled their eyes.

“Thank you, dear!” Pamela beamed before fidgeting with her phone, flipping through different apps.

“I noticed you didn't offer me any coffee, sweetheart …” Tim commented with a slight smirk.

“Earl Grey tea for me, please,” Jenkins added.

Rodney scowled at them before leaving. He didn’t return with their drinks; instead, he lingered around, peering at Pamela once in a while. Though Tim was secretly reluctant, he didn’t have much choice in the matter, after all, she had a way of being pushy without realizing it. Oblivious to the interaction, Pamela placed her phone on the table and pressed record.

“Alrighty, Jenkins, can you please tell me what happened on the night the two of you were jumped?” Pamela inquired.

“Regretfully, I can’t remember much about the incident.” Jenkins began. “One moment I was walking behind Tim, and then the next, he was waking me up outside the alleyway.”

“Oh my! What caused your amnesia?” she asked.

“Well, I got a bump on my head, so I think I was probably knocked out right away,” Jenkins answered. “Does that … count as amnesia?” he asked as an afterthought.

“How about you, Tim?” Pamela asked; she wasn’t quite convinced with Jenkins’ answer, but decided to move on.

“Well, I was talking to my sis on the phone and then the next thing I knew, J.K. was gone — sorry, J.K. is Jenkins — I backtracked to see if I could find him, and a hooded guy suddenly pulled me into the alleyway,” Tim explained, though he was lying through his teeth.

“Get back to work, son,” Mr. McCarthy barked at Rodney without glancing up. Rodney flinched and became visibly irritated as he stomped off to wait on another table.

“Tch,” Rodney clicked his tongue when he caught a glimpse of a regular, Terrance Johnson, the loathsomely handsome man. He was Tim’s older cousin, which Rodney found hard to believe due to the stark difference between them. Terrance was quite popular among the women with his tall, muscular build, mysterious, deep brown eyes and long dark hair tied back into a low ponytail. Mr. McCarthy regularly gave him free drinks to encourage him to stay longer — and to possibly recruit him.

Pamela briefly looked at Terrance. He met her gaze and returned a small crooked grin. It looked like Tim’s crooked grin, except more spectacular.

“So you couldn’t see their faces?” she pressed, slightly flustered. She looked away quickly, as a blush spread across her face.

“Not at all,” Tim continued. “The guy threatened to kill us if I didn’t hand over my money. J.K. was already unconscious. I tossed him my wallet, then he took all my cash and beat me to a pulp. I guess it was so I couldn’t chase them or something.”

“How many assailants were there?” Pamela asked curiously.

“Can’t say. It was dark, and I didn’t have time to count.”

“I see. How big were they?”

“Not sure … taller than me, I suppose? I can’t say too much because it turns out they were juvenile offenders.”

“Understandable, but what I’m trying to get at is: do you think there is a possibility that they were not human?” Pamela asked, leaning so close that they could smell licorice.

“Pardon me, not … human?” Jenkins questioned.

“Why, yes! You didn’t see their faces, correct?” Pamela replied, slightly flustered again. She didn’t want to come off as a nutcase. Surprisingly, the two young men were smiling at her politely — possibly because they did think she was a nutcase. She took a large gulp of latte, trying to calm her nerves.

“I couldn’t see their faces, but I doubt they were boogeymen,” Tim joked.

“Boogeymen?!” Pamela exclaimed excitedly, nearly spewing her latte.

“Why boogeymen, of all things?” Jenkins muttered to himself. He snuck a glance at Tim, whose eyebrows furrowed, caught off guard by her response.

“I’m just pulling your leg,” Tim quickly added, relaxing his face into a crooked grin,  hoping he didn’t offend the researcher. But she was off in her own little world.

“Were they inhumanly strong?” Pamela pressed on.

“Er … there was no real fight. One guy just beat the heck out of me.”

“Oh … I’m sorry to hear that.” Pamela eyed Tim sympathetically before opening her large shoulder bag and rummaging inside.

“S’no problem, miss,” Tim responded. He thought he saw the bag move on its own, but was uncertain.

“You certainly got the short end of the stick for that one,” Jenkins remarked as Pamela pulled out a plastic bag containing a long needle. She held it up for them to see.

Oh, crap! That’s part of Wazp’s needle! How’d she get that?!

“Do either of you recognize this?” Pamela asked.

“A needle?” piped Jenkins.

“What about it?” Tim inquired, discreetly wiping the cold sweat that had begun to develop on his hands on his pants. 

“I found this in the alleyway where the two of you were attacked. Perhaps it was used as a weapon?”

“I don’t recall seeing it,” said Jenkins.

“They did point something sharp at me, but I couldn’t see what it was — just assumed it was a knife or something,” Tim explained before quickly trying to change the subject. “Maybe you should turn that in to the police? It could be new evidence.”

Pamela gave him a guilty look and placed the needle back into her bag as inconspicuously as she could.

She totally ignored that!

*SNORT*

“W-what was that s-sound?” Jenkins stuttered.

“Excuse me,” said Pamela, slightly flushed. “I do that sometimes.”

Neither Tim nor Jenkins believed the sound had come from the woman sitting before them, but they couldn’t think of what it could possibly be.

“Are there any other details that you can think of?” Pamela continued.

“Sorry, I was out cold,” said Jenkins flatly.

“No, miss, I was half dead,” Tim stated.

Pamela got up from her seat as she said, “Well, thank you, gentlemen, for sparing some time for this interview!” She retrieved her phone to stop the recording before reaching out to shake their hands in thanks. Rodney was hovering around again. Terrance shook his head. Obviously, the dislike for each other was mutual.

“I’m sorry I could not help much,” said Jenkins apologetically.

“No worries, dear, you’ve helped more than you think!”

“Hold on! Can we take a quick picture with you?!” asked Tim. “It’s rare to see researchers such as yourself here. When you become famous, we can show off to our customers!” He flashed his crooked grin.

“How flattering! Of course you may!” replied Pamela, blushing profusely.

Tim held up his phone. The protective case was in a sorry state from his previous encounter with the ruags. He focused the camera on Pamela and made sure that Rodney couldn’t see. It quickly scanned her face before declaring: Watch. Tim refocused the camera to include Jenkins as well before snapping a picture.

“Got it! One more, okay?”

“Of course, dear!” Pamela responded cheerfully.

“Hey, Rodney! Do you mind taking a picture for us?” Tim called.

Rodney, who was off to the side, headed over in excitement.

Tim and Jenkins were stocking up the shelves after Pamela had left the vicinity. She had plopped down a five-dollar bill at the till and left without waiting for her change, chatting quietly to her bag on the way out. Tim was certain she was hiding something in there.

“I think she had a few screws loose,” Jenkins commented as Abby and Haley left the break-room.

“Yup,” agreed Tim. “She thinks the muggers were boogeymen. How bizarre.”

“You said that!”

“Eh, heh-heh … Did I?” Tim asked as he scratched his head sheepishly.

“Who had a few screws loose?” Abby asked, smiling as she joined them.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Tim explained. “Just a lady who came by to interview us.”

“Another interview?” Haley asked, raising an eyebrow. “This town must be bored to tears if they’re still covering your story for excitement.”