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When she moved close to his end of the counter, Calvin said, "I'm told you're something of the town historian." |
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"Only because I've been here longer than most everybody else." |
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He took a bite of meatloaf. "Then maybe you can help me." |
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She straightened up. "Bio what?" |
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"BiOmega Laboratory. It was a small research place located on Franklin in the early seventies." |
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"Oh yeah . . . where they put up the Sherwood." |
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"So, what do you want to know?" |
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"Whatever you remember. The people who worked there probably came in here for lunch, you might have overheard something." |
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"Like what kind of research they were doing. Names of folks who worked there. How long they were here . . . whatever." |
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She glared at him for a moment, removed his dishes and put them into a bin, then wiped off the counter. "You want dessert?" |
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"Neither . . . look, it was a research lab of some kind." |
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"If you say so." She poured a cup of coffee. "I remember it as just a quiet little building tucked in the trees." |
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"Is there anything you can tell me? Something you heard about what they were doing there?" |
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"Unh-uh. Not much noise outta them. They kept pretty much to themselves." |
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She slid the sugar dispenser to him. "Why are you so interested in a place that's been gone twenty years?" |
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"It's too long a story," he said. "I'm just curious about the kind of research they conducted." |
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"How do I know you're not some kind of spy or other?" |
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Just then the man in the A's hat came out of the kitchen with an empty dish bin. Probably her husband, Calvin thought. He looked her age and was wearing a wedding band. "Whyn't you tell the man |
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