Mr. Pin was worried. How long could his fish go without chocolate chips? Mr. Pin even had trouble eating his caramel fudge pancakes, one of Sally’s specialties. The diner had cleared out early. It was still snowing and a lot of people just stayed home. Maggie’s school was closed so Mr. Pin had help thinking about Yum. Brrrring! It was a cold sound in the warm diner coming from the phone booth in the corner. Mr. Pin picked up the phone as he wedged himself into the tiny booth. “I got your fish,” said a raspy voice. A tank gurgled in the background. Mr. Pin felt a lump in his throat. “Who are you?” he asked with authority. He motioned for Maggie to come over and listen. “Never mind that,” growled the voice. “Why do you want our fish?” asked Mr. Pin. “You’re the detective. Figure it out. Bing. Time’s up. I’ll make it easy for you. I want ransom.” “Ransom?” asked Mr. Pin startled. “We are hardly in a position to pay anything. None of us has any money.”
