Case of the Purloined Pie By Charlie Melton

I was making a chain of paper clips when she walked into my life. She had fiery red hair and wore dangerous shoes. Shoes that could sprain a girls’ ankle and sprain a guys’ soul. Shoes that made good girls go bad. I leaned back in the chair and put my feet on the desk. She strolled in the office and looked me in the eye. “Why are you in my office? Get to work.” she growled.
I stood up and eased past her. “The kitchen is missing a blackberry pie. It’s for a fundraiser. Do you know anything about it?” she breathed.

“A missing pie, eh? I’ll take your case. I get $100 a day plus expenses.” She slammed the door. That dame was playing it hard. I’d find her pie. I’d find her pie and finish the paper clip chain. The case would be solved by me, Charlie Melton, Dessert Detective.

I pulled my cap low over my eyes to fight the glare of the dining room lights. Making sure I wasn’t being followed, I strolled over to the nurses’ station. I took a seat next to the brunette bombshell writing secret nurse words in an official looking book. Maybe she knew something. Maybe she saw something. Maybe she had cookies.

“What about the pie, sugar cakes? Have you seen a missing pie?”

She turned and looked at me with big brown eyes; eyes that were like pools of hot fudge waiting for a bowl of ice cream. “I’m charting”, she said. “I don’t have time.” She seemed scared and really irritated at being interrupted. This case was getting deep.

I gave her my card and instructions to call when she could talk. I glanced at my watch and saw it was time. It was time to go to lunch and take a quick nap. I strolled through the door and out of her life forever, or maybe an hour.

I came back in with a full belly and red eyes from a sleep haunted by images of disappearing pies and irate nurses. I strolled into paradise gone wrong. I strolled into a room full of guilt.

The room was full. Everyone sat at tables and looked down in shame. They knew something, and they were ashamed- or maybe afraid. One guilt ridden pie purloining suspect was standing. I marched over and turned on the drill sergeant voice. “Where’s the pie? You know something.” She couldn’t even look me in the eye. “B-11”, she said. “B-11” It was some kind of nefarious code. What did it mean? “N-42”, she said. I faded back to think. I wasn’t getting anything out of this crowd. They were too afraid, or ashamed. Maybe they were bored, I don’t know.

I walked around, thinking. I thought about who had motive to steal a pie. Who had opportunity? Who had change for a five so I could get a soda?

I went to the maintenance shop to search for change and there it was. It was the gold at the end of the rainbow. It was the payday. On the desk was a empty pie plate with crumbs and a partial blackberry. Then I remembered. I ate it. I thought they brought it for me. Darn this senior forgetfulness. Darn it to heck.

I quickly cheered up. I solved my case. I got my man, even if it was me. I earned my fee. I was still good, very good.
Tune in next time for;”Dessert Detective, The Great Cake Caper.”

Fini.