I checked the monitor and picked what looked like was going to be a live one: the caller wouldn’t give his or her name and city, but claimed to have worked at a Speedy Mart for several years.
“All right, it looks like we have someone from the inside on the line, a former employee of Speedy Mart. Hello, you’re on the air.”
“Um, hi.” The voice was female, hushed, like she was trying to keep from being overheard.
“So you worked at Speedy Mart,” I prompted.
“Yeah. For a couple of years when I was in college.”
“You were a night-shift clerk?”
“I worked whenever I could get the hours. Sometimes at night.”
“And did you notice anything strange during your time there?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t think it was all that strange at the time. I mean, I thought it was strange, but not supernatural strange or anything. These people would come in around midnight, about once a month. They’d be wearing cloaks. I just thought they were from some science fiction convention or Renaissance fair, driving home late. Strange but harmless. But looking back on it, they weren’t really the Renaissance fair type, you know? These were all older guys, middle aged and clean cut, dressed normal except for the cloaks. They came in, walked all over the store, all the way to the back and every aisle, like they were looking for something. They never bought anything—total freak cheapskates. They were just some weird club. I never did anything about it because they didn’t hurt anything, they weren’t trying to rob me or anything, what was I going to do? I couldn’t kick them out just because they didn’t buy anything.”