Free Fudge-Laced Felonies by Cynthia Hickey Page A

Leaving the drinks where they sat, I bolted out the back door, letting the screen slam behind me. Ethan called my name. The sound of a thud reached me as the shovel hit the ground.
    Uncle Roy always left his toolshed unlocked so neighbors could borrow whatever they needed. Occasionally, a tool would stay at someone else’s home, but Uncle Roy believed in sharing, no matter whether the user returned the item.
    I threw the shed door open with a bang and peered into the dim recesses of the wooden building. Shovels, hoes, and rakes found a home in a plastic trash bin, while many implements I couldn’t name hung from neat pegs on one of the walls. Uncle Roy’s assorted plastic bins sat stacked in the corner. The perfect quick hiding place.
    Ripping the lid from the top bin, I shoved my arm deep into birdseed. A fit of sneezing seized me, and Ethan gently moved me aside.
    “Here. My arms are longer. What exactly am I expecting to find? If it’s a mouse, I’ll deal severely with you later.” He plunged his hand into the seed until his elbow disappeared.
    Ethan, afraid of mice? I covered my hand to stifle a giggle. I found mice cute. Especially the small gray ones with big eyes and ears.
    “Aha!” Ethan pulled out a navy coverall. “This it?”
    Had to be. I stepped forward and took the clothing from his hand. “I’m pretty sure this is what my nocturnal predator wears.” I held it against me, delighted to see it was several sizes too big. This didn’t mean, necessarily, that the person wasn’t female, just that he or she wore a larger size than I did.
    “They must’ve changed here for easy access. Less obvious than if they’re walking the streets in everyday clothes.” Ethan turned and scanned the walls.
    “If you dig deeper, you might find something else.” I tossed the coverall on a shelf. “Maybe the other garden glove.”
    “No, I think we should call Joe.”
    “That could take an hour! If we find something, we’ll put it back.”
    Ethan shook his head. “We’ve messed things up enough. You’re inviting the wrath of Joe.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and punched in a set of numbers.
    I wasn’t afraid of my cousin.
    While Ethan occupied himself calling Joe, I shoved my arm into the bin with enough enthusiasm that seed spilled over the top. Within seconds, I came up clutching a blue-flowered gardening glove. I shoved it back inside, avoiding Ethan’s glare. lay in bed that night with the investigation book lying open beside me and warm feelings for Ethan in my heart. He’d been angry with me for continuing my search. It didn’t help that my hunch about the shed had proven true.
    Ethan and Joe had both made a big deal about why God had burdened them with a knucklehead like me. I knew neither of them could stay mad forever. But I promised to think before acting in the future.
    The next morning dawned bright. I woke with a stiff neck that couldn’t keep me from following up on what I’d read in my Dolt book the night before. I’d scanned the table of contents and decided to start with neighborhood investigation. I had to work that day, so the street where the candy store sat would have to do as my neighborhood. The major goal for the day—the jewelry store and the newspaper.
    One of the things I’d have to work on, according to the book, was getting my suspect to like me. This wouldn’t be hard with Ruby and Mabel. They already did. Terri Lee, on the other hand, might be a challenge.
    Aunt Eunice and I whipped up a batch of butterscotch fudge before I took off my apron. I would’ve liked for her to go with me to interrogate Ruby and Mabel, but after her outburst the other day, I changed my mind. I’d been honest about wanting to stop by the jewelry store and could tell by the inquisitive look on her face that she was dying to know why.
    Before she had a chance to get nosy, I headed out the front door and down the sidewalk. Shadow Jewelers stood one block over in an impressive