Whispers Over Pancakes

Here we are at the International House of Pancakes. Not exactly what I would call a quaint, Mom N' Pop store, but what are you gonna do? It wasn't a terrible meal. I did have some nice, fluffy, buttery pancakes with a side of hard boiled eggs. It's just when you are really looking forward to something, and then the outcome does not come close to how you pictured it in your mind. Our waitress, Rosie hovers over our table. She appears to be  roughly in her early fifties. She has graying hair that is pulled into a pony tail, and she wears tiny, rectangle shaped glasses. " Anything else for the two of you?" She asks, while placing the bill on the table. We both shake our heads no. " I'll just leave this here. You can fill it out when you're ready." She takes some of our empty plates. " Where can we get a homemade pie?" I ask her. " Excuse me?" She says. " A homemade pie. Do you know where we can find one?" I ask again. " We do serve pie, but I wouldn't exactly call it homemade."  " You'll have to excuse my friend, he's a bit distracted." Olivia explains. Rosie squints her eyes. " You two aren't from around here, are you?" "No. We're here to investigate." Olivia says. Rosie half smiles. " What could you possibly be investigating around here?" I lean back in my chair. " The Mapleville Factory."  Rosie puts the plates down and leans over the table. " How do you know about that?" She asks in a whisper. "So there is something going on!" I shout. Rosie shushes us. "Not so loud." She demands. " What is going on?" Olivia asks. " All I know is we're be punished." She explains. "Punished for what?" Olivia asks. " What went on wasn't right." Rosie tells us, in a scared, barely audible voice. " What wasn't right?" Olivia asks her. " I'll talk after my shift."  Rosie stands up and looks out to the table behind us. "Sir, would you like some more coffee?"