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Harry sat at his desk, preparing to review some case files. Morning in the groggy city. He had finished his coffee — it wasn’t good; it tasted like cinnamon-spiced hellfire — but he didn’t really care how it tasted. It just had to work.

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Oh, the MG Gang. I’ll be quiet on that one for now, Harry mused.

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Buben. He’s in a good spot now, being nurtured by Tee Tee.

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Agent Zee. Of course. Missing girl — goes by Emma, or Em.

He yawned. Still foggy. Perhaps the radio would give him some pleasant background noise.

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“Today’s weather, brought to you by Kennett Square Mushrooms. Because not everything that grows should be found,” the announcer’s voice crackled through the static, then rolled on to the forecast.

“Weather today will see feather-light precipitation. The birds will enjoy it. By noon we’ll have a low-pressure front moving in. If you have a car, you might want to keep it safe. The afternoon sunshine should be bright, though I’d keep an umbrella nearby. And remember, mushrooms aren’t the only delicacy in town.”

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Harry turned it off. That weather report made no sense at all. Why not just say, Today’s weather? Yes.

Perhaps he just needed another coffee.