Tis the season,” she quipped. “Fall-a-la-la-la,” I sang. “I see what you did there. Clever.” “I try to be. How was your day?” I was stalling going in. “Busy, but good.” “Are you still trying to solve the case of the fifty-dollar bill?” “Maybe,” she said mysteriously. “Do you need some help?” “No,” she was quick to say, almost as if she were hiding something. “Are you sure?”
