Sneak Peeks!

In order to work on plot, I've constructed an interview with my protagonist, Sam, about what is going on in the story. The interview takes place in the tavern where Sam discovers that his sister, Natalie, is missing.

The large man was seated at the corner table, all by his lonesome and carefully watching the scene. His eyes looked around, darting back and forth between Sam and Will in front of him. He took his glass of whiskey and brought it to his lips, the cold fluid feeling warm in his throat. As he set down the glass, he noticed Sam turn to him. Will was distracted by something across the floor and moved to investigate it, ignoring his friend.

Sam felt drawn to the stranger. As if something were calling to him. He approached the man, and sat down in front of him.

"Good evening," the throaty voice whispered to him. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation, my young friend."

"My sister's gone." Sam looked down at the table, fiddling with his gloved hands on the wood. The older man nodded and took another sip.

"When did you notice your sister disappeared?" He asked, leaning in.

"When I went to the bar here in the tavern and noticed that big thing sitting right over there. I thought to myself, "Wow, Nat would love this." Then I looked around, and noticed she wasn't here with me," Sam began picking at his thumbnail in anxiety.

"And when did the crowd show up?"

"I don't know. Shortly after I realized she disappeared, I went to the vendor area and searched for her. I must've been gone a few minutes, though, because when I came back, there they were."

"If she's only been gone a little while, why are you panicking? Enjoy the convention. Have a drink," the older gentleman said, taking a flask from his waistcoat and offering it to Sam.

"No, thanks," Sam waved his hand in front of his face. "I was only allowed to take her along with my father's permission. I had to promise I'd keep her safe and out of harm's way."

The older man put the flask down on the wooden table and looked him hard in the eye. "Now what could possibly harm her?"

"I don't know. Maybe some weird guy took her, that probably happens a lot." Sam shrugged and lowered his gaze once more.

"So you think someone took her? Blimey, it's a convention. Everyone's here to have their own fun, not ruin everyone's day," the man leaned back and patted his large stomach.

"All I'm saying is that that's what I hope what happened."

"What do you mean, you hope?" The old man blinked a few times, his heavy eyebrows brushing together.

"When I went through the crowd, there was some spots of blood on that machine. It was still red and fresh, but not enough to make me think someone got really badly hurt. Just some drops here and there, probably hoping for some sort of effect," he said, looking back at the device in the middle of the room.

"What do you think that machine is?"

"I don't know. It kinda looks like an engine taken apart with a clock on it." Sam looked back at the man, then back at the engine.

"A clock? What if it's supposed to be a time-travelling device?" The old man raised an eyebrow.

"Ha, don't be silly. We don't have those just yet." Sam smiled an leaned back.

"'If you eliminate the impossible, whatever is left, however improbable, must be true.'"

"Yes, but are you insinuating that whoever took Natalie took her elsewhere through time?" Sam's green eyes slowly moved back to meet the older man's, but were distracted to the bushy eyebrows and unshaven face.

"Look at the clock. What do you see?"

Sam turned and squinted his eyes. "3... 3:45. And there's another dial with some numbers on it, but I can't quite tell what it is."

"There are. Take a closer look. What do those numbers say?"

He got up and took a step closer to the engine. "18... 1846," he said as he returned to his seat.

"Do you think that's a year?" The man's hands had folded beneath his chin.

"That's the year that the Mexican-American War started. Are you saying what I think you're saying?" a skeptical look grew over Sam's face.

"I very well may be."

"But that can't be. We don't have time travel yet!" Sam exclaimed, slamming his hand onto the table.

"Then look for her. Search the streets. The rooms. The people. You will not find her." The old man smiled a crooked, toothy smile as he spoke.

"How do you know all of this?" Sam leaned in real close, finally able to see the man's dark green protruding eyes.

"That's for me to know and you to find out."