It was Monday. Noah was expected back, but wasn’t. Tricia and I played volleyball, then went to the office. Once inside she said, “Boy, today sure is hot!”

“You said it, you might want to turn on the fan.”

“Good idea.” 

“I wonder if any lead has come up on my case.”

“I don’t know.”

“I walked into my part of the office and sat down.”

Tricia came in with a stack of papers. “Did you do this?”

“Do what?”

“This report. I was going to write out all the things we did on this case for future reference, but when I looked in the file cabinet, this was there.”  She handed it to me. It had ‘The Mystery of the Purloined Palette’ on it. Looking inside I saw the whole case.

“This is odd. Well, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. In other words, now you don’t have to do it.”

“Well, if I didn’t do it, who did?”  Puzzled by this question, I thought for a moment, then dismissed it all as temporary amnesia. I invited her to my apartment for lunch. We went there and started eating. When we were finished, Tricia said, “I wonder why Noah and Laura aren’t home yet.”

“Me too,” I said, while the phone rang. I went to answer it, but when I picked it up, the caller hung up. Putting the phone down, I said, “Must have been a prank call.” 

“I think I’ll go wash your dishes.”  She said, going into the kitchen. The phone rang again.

I picked it up and said quickly, “Hello?”

“Hello, how are you Adam?  Do you know who this is?”

“Noah, is that you?”

“No, it’s Santa Claus checkin’ to see if you’ve been naughty or nice.”

“Ho, Ho, Ho, how’s the honeymoon?”

“Well, it’s all right, well, you know. . .well. . .maybe you don’t know. Although you and Tricia seem to be getting along pretty well!”

“Ho, Ho, Ho, Santa, why haven’t you come back yet?”

“Umm, do you hear some static on the line?”

“No, not really, don’t try to get out of telling me now!”

“No, listen.”

“Oh!  That static!  It must be a bad connection.”

“Yes, I guess it just must be the phone in this booth, I guess I haven’t paid my calling card bill.”

“So, what’s keeping you?”

“Do you remember Rob Warren?”  He said, changing the subject.

“Yeah sure, the guy with the crew cut, right?”

“Well, I ran into him down here. He says he sent me a letter, you are collecting my mail, aren’t you?”

“Collecting your mail?!  I’ve gotta do that too!?”