Putting a help wanted at in the paper seemed like a good idea at the time.
"Now though ... I mean, look at this place!"
I had looked. The kitchen was a wreck. Part of the roof had collapsed above the sink, the oven was on its side, and dishes lay in pieces all around us. I handed a kerchief to the now crying man across from me.
"Mr. Flour, may I call you Jack? Calm down and just tell me what happened."
He hiccupped and blew his nose into my best linen hanky before offering it back. I waved it away. Note to self: Buy some cheap tissues.
"All I was looking for was a decent baker. My last one, Mr. Breading, started some sort of bathroom remodeling company with Mr. Tallow and Mr. Hamhock. Something to do with a revolutionary new bath-tub system."
I jotted the names down in my book.
"When Breading left was there any trouble?"
"No." He shook his head. "Things were fine. He had been a hard worker, and an excellent pastry chef. We parted on good terms."
I nodded. "Please continue."
"Well, I got a few responses and set up times today for everyone to come in so I could talk to them."
I interupted, "Do you have their names?"
He nodded and went over to where a drawer was overturned on the ground. Jack bent over and started pushing papers around until he found the one he was looking for. Yellow and stained, he placed it in my hands. On the paper were three names ...
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