"Did you hear about Mrs. Thompson's missing cat?" "Missing? I thought she just let it roam around." "Not this time. She swears someone took it." "Who would steal a cat in this town? Everyone knows everyone." "That's what makes it so strange. She found a note on her porch." "A note? What did it say?" "Something like, 'If you want to see Whiskers again, meet me at the old mill at midnight.'" "Sounds like a prank. Kids, maybe?" "Maybe, but Mrs. Thompson is convinced it's serious. She came in here this morning, all flustered." "Poor woman. She's had a rough year already." "Tell me about it. First her husband, now this." "Do you think we should go to the mill tonight? Just to see?" "Are you suggesting we play detective?" "Why not? It's not like we have anything better to do." "True. But what if it's dangerous?" "Dangerous? In Pinewood? The most dangerous thing here is Mrs. Jenkins' fruitcake." "Alright, you’ve convinced me. Midnight at the mill it is." "Great. And if we solve this, maybe we can start our own detective agency." "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. First, let's find Whiskers." "Deal. Now, how about a cinnamon roll to fuel our investigation?" "Make it two."