ALL THAT GLITTERS- Teaser Chapters

Wickerwire, Iowa is home to a notorious jewelry thief who has the ability to get by completely undetected. The only trace he leaves behind is candy in place of the things he steals, the media dubbing him "The Candy Caper." He won't give up until he finds the item said to be possessed with ancient magic...unless someone else gets to it first...or just gets in his way. Described to be a "backwards superhero story," ALL THAT GLITTERS takes a look at the character that is considered to be a villain...but is he really? What drives someone to crime? Available on Amazon!


4. Chapter 3

He was the shadow that tiptoed against the brick wall; he was the one that tiptoed against the trees and on one spot along the concrete sidewalk. No one followed him down the street as he himself then became a part of the brick wall—he was nothing more than the shadow of a shadow in the night.He ducked into an alley, his footstep sounds so light they were buried by the crinkling of a plastic grocery bag fluttering against the wall.

If he could cut through here, and stick to the back walls, he just might get there faster. Although…

He took a glance up to the rows of windows directly across from one another. These were not domestic buildings he snuck around, so no idle and restless mind would open them and by chance see the figure below. He sidestepped down the alley and into another one connected to a small garage, where a raccoon with matching black eyes just like his own halted in mid-step next to a trash can. They stared at each other, not moving nor making a sound.

There, there, friend. I am not here to interrupt your nightly activity just as you are not here to interrupt mine.

They continued to their separate ways, who would be caught and who would not remained a mystery. The figure was out of that back alleyway now and stared at the moon cast from the rooftops. The moon exposed but could not betray him, lighting up a path for him to follow and ultimately—see his goal.

It revealed, also, his only obstacle parked almost directly in front of the shop. The figure moved a step back so the brick wall barely scrapped his shoulders. He watched the police officer, sitting all alone and snug at his post. He could not even tell if the car was even turned on. The man was
asleep at the wheel. Who could have asked for better timing? His hat tilted slightly and rested against his cheek, so he could be very much awake and just waiting for him to show up to blare those lights—but—the figure laughed, and a little bit of a snort came out. This one
was not that smart. His own car was out in plain sight and not even hidden enough. He
could just walk away, but this was almost too easy. He half-ran and half-sauntered to the other side of the street, and then around the corner to one of the side windows. It did not take him long to get in. He was in and got to work on getting to know his new loot. The night watchman in the car heaved a sigh and rolled over, his hat falling down somewhere under the seat.

“I still can’t believe it!” Chief of Police Bill Rhodes exclaimed to no one in particular—although all of the officers in the room knew he meant them. He had been in this same mood all week, and who could blame him? He still held the newspaper and addressed it as though it were a person.

“We did have an officer on duty watching the area, thank you very much! It is just a coincidence that he picked the right time and place to rob and now he still got away?”

Bill rubbed his temples and fell back into his chair, paying no attention to the loose papers fluttering to the floor. The officers standing in or nearby his office said nothing, but continued to stare at
the floor as though they were to blame. They were not individually, of course, but as a whole it was on them.

“We’re finally at the right place and time, or so we think. What the hell happened?”

Bill surveyed the faces in the room, searching for any kind of look for a clue, in hopes that one of them would squeal. What he got were a couple of shrugs.

“Who did we send out there?”

“Massey was out there, sir,” answered one of the rookies near the back.

Bill’s eyelashes fluttered and he rubbed his temples again.

“Good lord, they don’t pay me enough for this. Does he ever have an ‘on’ switch? Seriously, does he? How could he have missed him?!”

Again, the question was rhetorical and he got no response. He sighed.

“Send him in here.”

The other officers filtered out, and a couple of minutes later one came in, straightening his shirt. He was a round man with ginger features.

“Yes, sir?”

Bill picked up the paper and waved it.

“Did you, by any chance, see this?”

The officer appeared crestfallen and looked to the floor for a second, then back up.

“I did.”

“And—what happened, exactly? What time were you out there?”

“I was out as soon as the shops in that strip mall closed. I was there.

I just—I just wasn’t able to stay up all night.”

“You fell asleep?” Bill asked with a sigh in his voice.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I was parked right out there. I was just tired. It was a long day and was late for me. It will not happen again.”

“No, it won’t,” Bill said pointing at him. “You will not let this thief get away.”

“No, sir,” the officer answered. “I won’t.”

He was just feeding into the stereotype, really, the way his police car pulled up in front of the Dunkin Donuts. Everyone feeds into their own stereotypes. They can’t help it. Teenagers hang out at the mall and people looking to get laid hang out at bars and clubs. There’s something for everyone. So what. But unlike the stereotype, Officer Anthony Massey wasn’t there to just kill time and wait until the next speeder zipped down the street. He actually needed a caffeinated boost. Places like these were open late for a reason. It was about ten o’clock at night. and he needed to settle in for what he could tell was going to be a long night.

He got out of his car and walked towards the entrance, trying not to take notice of the not-so-fit shape he was in. He may have just turned forty but that didn’t mean he was over the hill and retired. He only wished he had the strength from his younger years so when the time came for more action, he would be ready for it. Still, he ought to see some action tonight that would give him the workout he needed. If, he could still run that fast.He waited in line for about a minute until the young counter girl met him with a fresh smile, as though she was not getting sick of saying the same thing for the past six hours or so.

“Hi, welcome to Dunkin Donuts. How can I help you?”

Officer Massey tugged at the wallet in his back pocket. “Just a regular coffee, please.”

The counter girl rang him up. “Would that be all?”

His first instinct was yes, it was all, even with the hint of persuasion in her voice. Still, Officer Massey’s eyes couldn’t help but scan the pretty pastry treats in the display case and behind the counter. He tried to fight it—and lost. It didn’t matter who you were, no one could not say the following sentence and sound tough:

“Okay, I’ll take the one with the pink icing and the sprinkles.”

The girl smiled and added it to his order, the steam from his newly poured cup of coffee heating his fingers as he reached for it. The spring night was perfectly cool and not at all humid, so it made his hot drink all the more enjoyable. He held his coffee in one hand and donut in the other until he got back to his car, then placed them securely in cup holders before he drove away. He rode along, scanning street signs and landmarks that passed him by on both sides. He was looking in a strip mall outlet for a small jewelry shop wedged in between a real estate agency and a beauty shop. Many suspicious characters were seen hanging out there late at night, and although the place hadn’t been robbed yet, Officer Massey was in high hopes he’d catch his guy before he struck. Recent events had everyone on their toes at the station with the public appearance of this new thief. It was not just that this one was after valuables; but he had more character than any burglar anyone had ever seen before, and seemed to be after some publicity, too. The cherry shine of the Ring Pop was stuck in Anthony’s mind.

He rolled his car in an easy, concealing spot, tucked carefully by the trees and behind an overnight worker’s truck in a way that he could make out many angles of the shop: So he could see who would go in, and who would go out.

This was the part Officer Massey hated: waiting. Waiting to catch any action was about eighty percent of police work, and the rest of it was equally balanced between paperwork, playing a never-ending game of tag and getting shot at. That was the life of a cop, that, and having a good, focused eye. He took his pills today to help him make sure he kept this focus. It was his greatest weakness, to daydream; something he struggled with his whole life that enough time in the
police force should break. He sipped his coffee, savoring the fresh taste on his tongue and
the warmth that ran down his throat and spread in his stomach. He kept his eyes to his windshield while he sipped, not willing to take a chance, not even for the godly privilege that came in liquid form. He noticed not far from his stare that he left his mirror down above him. His hazel eyes were still a little tired, and he realized he should get a haircut soon the way it went just shy of the nape of his neck. Any longer and he would feel like a hippie. His beard was growing back already, too, a growth of a rusty red forest sticking out of his chin. Officer Massey took a couple more sips of his coffee and then went to work on the donut. His teeth happily mashed on sweet, chewy, and sugary sensations. He was eating and drinking just satisfied like he was in front of a television set that didn’t move, one scene, but he watched it more profusely than anything that would actually hold his
interest. For the sake of entertainment, he pretended he really was watching TV. In his head he replayed some of his favorite shows. He put his coffee cup to his lips again, and only slightly brought it down when he almost missed a dark figure approaching from his left. He swallowed the large donut mouthful that became a rock in his throat and tensed up in his seat.

The figure was a tall male wearing all black, his sweatshirt hood up on his head. Officer Massey slid back down in his seat and kept his watch. The guy was walking slowly, slowly, with his eyes on the shops down the street. He carried a cloth bag with him, which held something Anthony couldn’t make out. Strange, he wasn’t walking casually as though he were on his way somewhere, but rather idly and giving the impression of loitering. The officer’s pulse quickened. He quickly looked to other parts of the street. No one else was in sight at all. This individual was out at night and alone. Officer Massey’s fingers gripped his seat as he anticipated the exact moment he would act. They gripped even tighter when the guy walked on and into his plain sight, and even tighter when he shuffled about toward the jewelry shop. I got him. The guy looked once to his right and once to his left, and came to a stop directly in front of the store window. Officer Massey sat up. The
guy raised his arms to the windows to peek in, and the cop couldn’t take it anymore.

“Hey, you!”

The guy spun around as soon as the car door slammed shut. He looked around and stepped away from the windows, his hands open and tense at his side. The police officer jogged over to where he was standing on the sidewalk.

“Can I ask what you’re doing hanging around here at this time of night?”

The man was younger than Officer Massey anticipated, like a college student, and certainly not expecting the officer to come out of nowhere like he did.

“Oh, Officer. Nothing, Sir.”

Officer Massey approached him on the sidewalk, his brow crossed.

“You’re doing nothing walking around by yourself late at night?”

The guy shifted uncomfortably. “I was at a friend’s house, and I was just walking home.”

“You don’t drive?”

“No, I…we walked to Al’s Diner for dinner and back to my friend’s house.”

“So why all of a sudden hanging around in front of a jewelry shop?”

The guy continued to look uncomfortable and unable to come up with an immediate response, which made Officer Massey impatient.

“Well…well…nothing, Officer.”

“Do you know that we’re on the lookout for a jewelry thief?”

“No Sir, no I’m not—going to rob anything. I was just walking home.”

“Then why did you stop in front of this shop and look around, if you were on your way home? I was watching you.”

By now the young man was staring at the police officer and a small smile leapt in the corners of his mouth, a smile he was trying to subdue. Officer Massey’s brows rose. The young man blinked the
smile back and sighed.

“Okay, really, I am thinking about my girlfriend…about…the next step…”

“Uh huh…”

The young man shook his head. “It was just a moment alone. I didn’t mean for it to look weird. I’m sorry.”

When the guy fidgeted Officer Massey could make out textbooks of History and Literature in his cloth bag. His dark sweatshirt did have those funny symbols on them most college students did, and although Officer Massey didn’t know what they were he knew they were Greek letters. There was a tickle in his veins and Officer Massey knew then this wasn’t his guy. He was just interrogating an innocent, awkward kid. He felt stupid and guilty at the same time.

“Well, you should not be walking out by yourself this late.”

“Yes, Officer.”

“It’s dangerous and although you’re minding your own business, that doesn’t mean nothing will happen to you.”

“Yes, um, Officer?” the young man scratched his chin.

“It’s best you go straight home.”

The young man started to smile that same, strange smile again. He half-chuckled when he thought Officer Massey wasn’t looking. The officer stared at him.

“I’m serious.”

“Yes, sir, but”—the young man pointed out to him. Anthony was getting annoyed. He knew he was wasting his time and did not need to be reminded.

“But nothing. Now go on, get home safely.”

“Thank you, Officer.”

The young man scurried along and when Officer Massey left he could see him smiling again in the reflection of the pane glass window. Officer Massey was beside himself. Did my lecture really sound that stupid?

He walked back to his car and was kicking himself for jumping on something that turned out to be a false alarm. He sat back in the driver’s seat again, thinking that his stepping out and revealing
himself completely ruined any and all chances. Surely, the jewel thief would not come out now if he were planning on robbing this place anyway. He blew his cover. Officer Massey sighed and then caught sight of his reflection in the overhead mirror. Pink frosting bits were stuck in clumps to his beard, decorated with the colorful sprinkles here and there in his hair like a Christmas tree. Officer Massey wiped his mouth and pushed the mirror back up.

The bushes he hid behind barely obscured him, but he sat quietly and motionless. His hood pulled tightly around his head, he knew he was part of the dark that no one could see. One building in particular stood out with a red blinking light in the window, and the target could not have been any more obvious. The red light was blinking, all right, and any motion it sensed would
trigger the alarm. Everyone in the street was gone. The group of teenagers laughing and chatting and flicking lighters eventually left. The entire scene became quiet and nothing could be heard—especially the figure getting out of the bushes and crawling along the ground. Once the coast was clear, that meant he could stop being poked and scratched by protruding twigs. He could still see the shop from his hideout by the alley. The back door would be locked, too, but it was a major
convenience at being hidden from the open. That made him smile.

Swiftly, he crawled along, and only stopped to remain shielded by the bushes when an occasional car would zip by. As he got closer to the shop his gloved fingers poked around at the rim of his boot to pull out a cutting tool. Approaching the back door allowed him to ease up from his knees, for it faced the closed-off dead end of the alley, and it did not matter if the flies around the garbage pails knew his presence.

But, they did not anyway. No one did.

The shop’s back door fit in to the very dark category, but nothing went past him. His eyes pierced the black and told him exactly where the door was. He brought out his tool and raised it up to the glass on the door and traced a small hole, almost a perfect circle, reminding him of his days using a compass in Geometry class. He could reach the lock now from this hole, and when he did the handle opened smoothly and without a creak or squeak. It was when he closed the door behind him just as quickly and quietly that his feet did not move forward another inch. His smile got bigger. He loved these laid-back, independent town businesses for a reason. Big corporations would take out the goods and hide them all in a safe in the back. Little Wickerwire did not feel the need to.

Above his nose he noted the red blinking light across the shop toward the front. He sighed and breathed out heavily at his feet. If his knowledge served him, it was similar and familiar and he could make out for himself where the invisible lines were. The muscles in his legs disappeared when he crouched down again. He remembered being at his sister’s when she was going through her Yoga obsession and insisted he do it with her. At first, he was so stiff every joint cracked in disobedience. Now moments like these almost made him grateful for a five minute workout. His body slid down on the ground and straightened out smoothly, his arms, stomach, legs and knees
properly going into place and moving him along. He was in an Army movie, crawling across the enemy base line to obtain the prize with the risk of getting caught all around him. His hips worked side to side and moved him along efficiently, a black lizard stalking towards the shop counters. Tool still in hand, he found the glass displays.

The shine of the blade reflected across the glass, and shined through to the diamond necklaces, earrings, bracelets, and rings on the other side. He cut a big hole and pushed the glass circle in.
He reached his hands out over every piece of gold, like they were magnets looking for the right attraction. His fingers stretched, hovered, and then he brought them down again and picked up a
bracelet. He held it as though there were some hidden energy he was trying to channel from the item, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened them again and explored the rest of the display. It could be anything, it really could be. Any one of these could be the key to unlocking more of his inner power and giving him more of his…gifts. Of course, he did not know and could not know. So, he had to take them all. With a flick of the wrist he pulled out a cloth sack from his pocket and started to collect the window’s contents. Over and over again he stuffed the bag, moving from display to display until all the treasure was officially his. After multiple takes of collecting he caught a glimpse of his digital watch: two-fourteen. It only took him a couple of minutes next to empty the adjacent displays in a massive scoop and once he was finished, he put his cloth bundle down on the ground for the time being and took out another.

He pulled out a Ring Pop and a candy necklace and placed them in the last display counter. He also took out a bag of Reese’s Pieces, leftovers from his last visit to the movie theatre, and pulled off the clip at the top. These he sprinkled handfuls of in the other empty display before re-clipping the bag and putting it away. Now, snaking across the ground again he opened the back door and shut it with his back against it. The air was still cold, but more importantly, still quiet. He made no
hesitation and fled from the shop as soon as he shut it, darting in and out of shadows until he blended into them completely and became a part of the darkest spots.

She was sure she got all of the boxes in.

Bridget Piers, standing at about five foot seven, folded her arms and surveyed the room. Her new space was still plain and empty, except for all of the boxes that were taking over the floor and the
clumps of dust bunnies that stuck in every corner. Still, she stood above them with a sense of pride. She ignored the cracked paint on the walls and stains on the floor, the holes in the walls and the
stray strings of cobweb. She looked past the hodgepodge of boxes and instead saw the vision that was forming in her head: One with sophisticated, smooth carpet, a bright and colorful paint for the walls and counters and counters holding all of her products, much classier than the storage closet she seemed to have back at the old location. They didn’t even have painted walls, and for the unreasonable rent she paid for that space she was at least owed some color. It made her happy to envision people walking to and fro in a bigger space with more products, taking it all in, and soft music playing in the background. It was supposed to be, well, smarter than a storage
closet store. It was all going to happen soon, and she was going to make it happen.

Bridget took a walk back outside where the U-Haul truck still sat parked. The two working men were at the back of the truck.

“It’s all empty, Ma’am,” one of them called out. “We got everything in.”

“Thanks!” she said, running outside. She gave the workers a nice tip before their van drove off, and then she was on her own, watching them pull down the street and disappear. She went back into the space, knowing that with each second she was closer and closer to
her starting point.

Once back inside, she passed one large box that was on the floor and could not help herself. She opened the flaps and fingered the red velvet boxes inside of it, all sizes and lined up against each other safe and sound in the cardboard box. She thought of the contents, the shiny, shiny contents and tried to picture them glistening in the windowpanes. They were necklaces, they were diamonds, they were earrings, bracelets and watches. She could hardly wait. The cute town
of Wickerwire, Iowa seemed cozy and close-knit, and when her car passed by the sign that said “Welcome to Wickerwire! Growing to Greatness!” Bridget could sense the sign was calling to her personally. The town’s welcoming sign was welcoming Piers Jewelry, her newly
found business, and it was going to see a place that would grow to greatness. Bridget sighed with excitement. She could not wait to start a new life in a new place. She knew she would meet all sorts of interesting people.


He was in a hysterical fit of giggles, the kind that made your stomach sore and brought tears to your eyes. He must have looked at it a thousand times but it never got old. This was just too good.
He was sitting on his couch with the paper resting on his stomach, and every time he laughed it skipped up and down right with him. He stared out at no point in particular on the wall in bliss, collecting his thoughts. It had been a very busy couple of weeks for him. And it
showed. He lifted the paper up again, because the title got him every time.


The Candy Caper Strikes Again
By Sam Glen and Robin Wright

The jewelry thief who has been making his rounds from
store to store nabbing expensive jewelry and other goods
has robbed another place just shy of the Wickerwire and
Maybourne town limit.
Pam’s Gold Outlet on Route 40 never saw it coming.
“I thought I had stable security cameras,” says store
manager Taj Patel. “They picked up nothing. Not a thing. I
don’t understand how.”
Patel found all of his jewelry displays empty of all jewelry
the next morning when opening the store, and whoever was
there left a mess of candy everywhere. It could only be the
work of the shadow “The Candy Caper.”
Patel’s store is not the only one stumped by the activities
of this elusive being—and just how he gets in and out of their
store with such ease. He robs them and then vanishes into the
night without a trace, somehow missing alarms and probably
even disabling any cameras in sight, making him an intelligent
and dangerous criminal. People are baffled and the only clues
left behind are the pieces of candy that the thief leaves in
place of what is stolen.
This jewelry thief has left his calling card of mainly Ring Pops
on ring displays, along with Skittles, Reese’s Pieces, Kit Kat
bars and Snickers, to name a few. This “Candy Caper” has so
far been up and down the towns of Wickerwire, Maybourne,
and south of Deerville—and it doesn’t look like he is stopping.
Not even fingerprints were found for clues. Yes, a new face is
on the loose on the crime scene—even if this face has never
been seen. Police are on the lookout for any more robberies by
The Candy Caper and do not know when or where he’ll strike
next. In the meantime, if anyone has any useful information
regarding the whereabouts, sightings, or any other helpful
hints should direct them to Chief of Police Bill Rhodes at the
Wickerwire Police Department.

The Candy Caper?

He was beside himself.

The Candy Caper!

He could not stop laughing. He did it as a joke. He put a Ring Pop on a ring display. Now, it’s his icon. He’s an icon. Masquerading the night streets as a figure of mystery and mischief, on a massive treasure hunt. He’s sneaky, he’s swift, and he’s got a sweet tooth.

His insides tickled. They were making a celebrity out of him! He reached into his pants pocket, the ones that were still a little wet from all the dew, and pulled out a little celebratory treat to fit the
mood. Cherry was always the best, and even though he had been too big to wear it around his finger for years and years, he could still fit it around his pinky finger. He helped himself to the sugar fill.

Yep, that’s me. I’m The Candy Caper!

He laughed to himself again. They’ll never catch me. And, who
knows when I will strike next? You better watch out.

So, he had some planning to do. What should he do now? He imagined getting himself a decorative mask or even spicing up his outfit a bit…something like Thunder God’s but nothing too flashy. He smirked to himself, imagining running through the streets in a sparkly cape and mask and then immediately dismissed it as overkill. The whole point was to stay concealed. But, then again, he was not completely against a cape.

He half-jumped off the couch to grab at the afghan thrown over the ottoman. Standing up, he undid its fold and flipped it around to his shoulders. He felt just like he was six years old again watching
Batman cartoons. Looping the ends through holes he pranced to his bedroom, letting the patches of burgundy and black drag behind him. Dramatically he flung open his closet door to reveal the long mirror, pulled the familiar black mask out of his pocket and pulled it on his face. He stared at himself, smirked a sly grin, and swished the blanket around his hips.

Shadow of the night, no one can stop me.

He reached his arm around out of the blanket and held up his pinky finger, the red candy shell shinning under his closet light, sneaking a lick in a rather dashingly manner.

Beware—you’ve been had by The Candy Caper!
Dr. Nick Allen steadied his arm while he administered the shot. The patient, a young girl in her teens, gave no hints of searing pain, so it was clear the area was numb and ready. He got the drill and worked it at the open mouth. The drill sounded all the way down the hallway and no doubt to
the front desk, where everyone in the waiting room could hear the fate that could meet any one of them. But Dr. Allen was gentle and smooth, drilling right in as though he were drilling into a fresh slab of wood. His patient did not appear to feel a thing. She kept her eyes closed and let herself go while he worked.


It was kind of sad that a filling was the most excitement he had all day. Well, he at least felt a whole lot better giving them to adults than to children who needed to be smooth-talked and bribed with toys and television. Dustin Gordon had a young patient who screamed and cried a lot and would barely let him near him. Everyone in the office could tell when they had a screamer...and a biter. Nick’s patient was calm and as her role suggested, patient. Just like how they should all
live up to that name. She was calm and patient even when Nick did his drilling, instead just turning her focus to the TV playing over her head. Nick learned to tune that out in order to focus on what he was doing, even though nothing on caught his interest anyway. The drill work went smoothly as was the rest of the work on the cavity. His tools drowned out everything else around him, until the time came he was finished and the only thing that could be heard was the TV.

“Just Wednesday night, there was another robbery that happened in Mybourne at Shimmer Gem store on Third Avenue.”

Through the reflection in the glass window, Nick could see the photo next to the news anchorwoman of a shop covered in caution tape.

“The store was broken into and completely robbed, and even though the store itself had security cameras and alarms, none of these even picked up a hint of disturbance.”

Nick circled around his patient, adjusting the light over her face and looking at various tools to work on, and would casually glance up once in a while. A video came on of a solemn-looking man talking to an outstretched mike.

“We’re here now with store owner Dave Ross who was, as you could imagine, shocked to find his store in this state. Dave, how could someone get passed all your security? ”

“Everything was…working,” the man said. “My cameras were all on, nothing moved in the dark at all and my alarms were all on and none of them went off. Whoever did this must have known exactly where everything was and was extremely, extremely careful. That’s…that’s
all I can think of. This is…just impossible.”

“The police are also at a loss, called right after Dave opened up his store and surveyed the damages,” continued the news anchor. “No one could believe or figure out how the entire store had been swept clean of every gem or diamond in sight.”

Nick tended to his patient and put a little mirror at the back of her mouth.

“Another one?”

Dustin Gordon had stopped in his doorway as he heard the news.

“Man, that’s how many this month?”

“Hey Susan, isn’t that the place you go to with your sister?” Dustin waved her in. She came into the room casually, about to sip from her bottle of Diet Dr. Pepper then stopped abruptly when she saw the screen.

“Oh my God.”

“It got robbed.”


“With every display case, every kind of emerald, diamond, and ruby was gone and in its place were Raisinettes, M&Ms, and Skittles, all aligned and displayed mockingly as the products used to be. This can only be the same activity as the previous robberies from the same
individual thief, who has been given the name ‘The Candy Caper’ and is quickly making headlines.”

“Oh that guy,” interjected Nick’s patient. Her mouth was free after
Nick had finished filling her tooth and the attention was off of her for the moment. “What is he, like a kid or something?”

“A kid?” said Dustin.

“Yeah, stealing jewelry and leaving candy. I dunno. Seems kind of funny. Like a fraternity or sorority prank or something.”

“Great, looks like I have to wait for the new shipment of that ring box I wanted for a long time,” remarked Susan.

“Anyway, you’re all set,” said Nick as he removed the patient’s paper napkin and raised the chair back to normal. “You’ll still feel numb for a while, but it’s all right.”

Nick’s last patient for the time being made her exit along with the others, leaving him with some time to himself. He walked over and sat down in his chair by the counter, the plush leather making a crunching noise as he sat down. Frankly, he welcomed the down time until his next patient. Even though the unwritten rule states that one cannot read leisurely while on company time, he was sure no one would be able to tell with his back turned to the door. He just wanted to browse through the paper for more news. For all anybody knew, he could be reading files or paperwork.


“I know how I want to start this meeting out today.”
Gloria was all smiles and around the room, the staff was too, but especially two in particular. They tried not to gloat, really. Gloria was holding out several papers, none of which were their

“This is really spreading,” she said putting them down on the table. “Everyone is in on this and following this story. And it comes from two newcomers to the news side, who have become our dynamic duo, Robin and Sam!”

Robin and Sam smiled as they were applauded and acknowledged around the room.

“Every story in every other paper now, as well as on TV news, is calling this jewelry thief ‘The Candy Caper’ as dubbed by our writers. And look how quickly it has caught on! Good job you two! Now, the only thing left to do is find a name and face behind it, and we’ll be the
ones to write the story that says he’s caught!”

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