Chapter 23: Deposits and Rewards

Two Days Later

Bandit began dragging Phinn by the leash after they turned right off of 34th Street. Although small, the bulldog showed strength and determination once he realized their destination. This continued for half a block until Bandit turned up the walkway of a familiar home in the 3300 block of Webster Avenue. Glancing up at the sky to shake his head, Phinn picked up his pace as the bulldog hopped up the porch stairs until he reached the front door and plopped his behind down.

Three loud barks rang out.

“Rude much? I could’ve pushed the doorbell or knocked,” Phinn told the dog.

Panting, Bandit turned to look at the human whom he’d walked to the house before returning his attention to the door to bark twice more.

“Geesh,” the bespectacled sleuth groaned, leaning forward to reach the doorbell.

“I’m coming!” A voice yelled before Phinn could ring the bell.

“Happy now?” Phineas asked.

Bandit responded by wagging his whole body as he heard footsteps approach.

“Hello, little one,” a sixty-seven-year-old woman greeted, smiling as she knelt so that Bandit could race forward into her arms. “Yes, yes, I know what you want. Come on.”

Shrugging at being ignored, Phineas followed, shutting the door behind him. With Bandit being taken to the kitchen, the frequent guest bypassed the living room and entered the study. He stopped to gently pet Miss Hint, the sleeping tawny cat. Surveying the room, Phinn stepped forward to peer curiously at the desk. Picking up a copy of The Flamingo Fling, he wondered about the book and the notepad beside it.

“Hello, dear,” Wisteria Harp greeted, kissing her surrogate grandson’s cheek while giving him a half-hug. “Your little buddy is watered and fed.”

“It’s never enough,” he replied, smiling. “How did the book tour go?”

“Tiring, yet also enjoyable. It’s nice to see familiar faces, but more and more of them seem unsure how to behave.”

“Don’t look at me for recommendations. You know that I despise people,” the antisocial eighteen-year-old reminded. Then, Phinn gestured toward the novel. “I thought the Patsy Peach series had concluded.”

“It had, but it’s all I ever seem to get asked about. I’m thinking about doing a crossover to sate the readers’ appetites.”

“Which series?” Phineas queried.

“Possibly Marnie Mault,” the romance author revealed.

“You should do a crossover with one of my favorites, and end Peach for good,” Phinn suggested.

“Use one of my father’s detectives? Oh, Phineas, I wouldn’t want to have a real-life Misery situation on my hands. That’s what I’ll get if I kill Patsy off,” Wisteria chuckled before glancing around. “Where’s Jacob?”

“He had to make a brief stop,” Phinn revealed, moving toward a bookshelf in the room’s rear.

“Ah, you do know that I miss the rummage sale every year on purpose?”

“I do, and I don’t blame you,” the semi-retired bookworm stated, tilting his head to the side to read the titles on the rows of novels.

“Too many people milling around, and your mother and Yearwood never take no for an answer about adding items. My junk isn’t for sale,” Wisteria complained. “So, imagine my surprise when Dahlia told me that your mother went on vacation and left you behind to run the sale.”

“Did she know the reason why?” Phinn inquired about Dusty’s mother while he pulled out a copy of The Missing Monkeywrench by Hamilton Harp.

“A little. Something about a break-in. I learned the details about Angelo Manfredi when Dusty called,” Wisteria relayed, watching as Phinn switched to Black Locust. Smiling, she recalled when his fourth-grade version asked to borrow one of her father’s novels. Rather than loan him a book, Wisteria had gifted paperback copies for the next year until the young bookworm finished them all. “I also understand that you had a masked visitor and an incident with Bandit getting lost.”

“Dammit, does Dusty blab about everything?”

“Favorite grandchild and all,” Wisteria said, throwing out her hands.

“I’m sure Magnolia and Birch appreciate that sentiment,” Phinn responded, moving down the row of mystery novels.

“Well, their mother is still upset that I named her Daffodil. You’d think she'd get over it after forty years.” The author watched as Phineas eventually reached the novel she knew he’d get to. “Still upset that Hemlock Hollow never had a proper conclusion, aren’t you?”

“Yes, and I’m not alone,” Phinn declared, referring to Hamilton’s trilogy that never concluded because of his death.

“You know my offer.”

“Dusty gets first dibs. I’m less likely to follow your family legacy.”

“My grandchild appears to prefer journalism, not fiction,” Wisteria pointed out. “I also trust you and believe that you’ll make a fine author someday.”

“Give it time.”

“We’ll see. Are you and Jake excited?”

“Jake’s in the dark, and I plan to keep it that way,” Phinn revealed.

“Aren’t you a pain in the ass?” the writer laughed as Bandit entered the study. The bulldog immediately wandered over to sniff the sleeping cat. Nudging Miss Hint over slightly, Bandit joined her on the oversized pet bed. “He’ll find out soon. It’s going to be wonderful to see all my grandchildren for such a nice stretch.”

“Magnolia and Birch are also visiting this year?”

“Yes, but not as long as your old friend. Daffy doesn’t trust Dusty’s driving. So they’ll fly in roughly a week later.”

“For once, I agree with your other daughter,” Phinn remarked.

“I won’t tell Dahlia you said so,” Wisteria said, winking as Phinn left the bookshelf. Once seated, she checked the time. “If Jake’s still running late, why don’t you explain these envelopes I found when I returned home last night?”

---

Scanning the Capshaws’ regular garage, Jake waited as Sharon helped a customer. Unlike the other day when he and Phinn stopped by, the crowds had dwindled to almost nothing. He counted maybe seven people between the regular and boat garages, along with their driveways. Nearby homes in the cul-de-sac appeared just as empty.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” Sharon asked her neighbor.

“The last day is often slow except for the bargain hunters. You go deal with that awful ordeal,” Mrs. Yearwood responded, shushing the homeowner from her own garage.

“Is Sydney around?” Jake inquired, following the forty-five-year-old mother into the house.

“Mark took Syd, Sherry, and some of their friends out onto the boat. Libby went with them. Didn’t you know?” Sharon asked, looking over her shoulder to smile at Jake. “We thought the girls could use a distraction.”

“Oh! That’s what Lib meant about going out on the water,” Jake realized, slapping his forehead lightly.

“I guess you used up all that brainpower to help me,” the pixie-haired stylist chuckled, walking into the kitchen.

Grabbing a pair of water bottles from the refrigerator, the mother of two downed one of the waters after she handed another to Jake. Unsure of the reason why he’d been called over, the young investigator asked if she’d heard the latest developments.

“They think they’ve located his body? Oh, my!” Sharon exclaimed, spilling a bit of the water onto her baby blue sundress. She then ran a hand through her short, light-brown hair while Jake provided the updates that Phinn had learned about the Bethunes.

“Phinn’s the one who talked to Chief Norberg. He can stop over later if you have questions,” Jake offered after also informing her of what the police found in the Bethunes’ home and the young sleuths' planned meeting for tomorrow.

“I don’t need your sidekick coming over. I’ve got you,” Sharon replied. “Come on.”

Jake watched as the attractive mother of his sister’s best friend walked over to the kitchen’s sliding door. Opening it, they both felt the heat from outside invade the air-conditioned home. Stepping out, the brunette motioned for her guest to follow again.

“We’ll talk in the pool house. This should be a private meeting,” Sharon stated.

Aware of and understanding the sensitive subject, Jake followed the daughter of the blackmail victim out into the backyard. While he followed her around the large in-ground pool, Jake lost the battle to keep his eyes off Mrs. Capshaw. The future version of his crush, Sharon’s short sundress offered tantalizing glimpses of her upper thighs, leading Jake to imagine how her ass looked underneath. If Phinn were here, he’d elbow or kick me to keep my eyes higher.

“My family can't thank you enough, Jake. I know Syd is especially proud of you,” Sharon revealed, opening the glass door.

“She is?” Jake responded, his voice rising slightly.

“I’m sure that you’ll get plenty of thank-yous or rewards from the other victim’s families, but I owe you the most. I know I put you in a delicate and dangerous position by dumping those photographs on you.”

“That’s alright. We understood your reasoning,” Jake reassured her, entering the pool house.

Jake always loved visiting the small pool house or clubhouse, as Mr. Capshaw preferred to call it. In many ways, it’s the type of mancave he’d want in a decade or two. The two large televisions, bar, vintage arcade games, and poker table brought a wide array of ideas to the eighteen-year-old’s mind. Yet he never stayed long enough to enjoy all of it.

“Gawd, I need this,” Sharon said, reaching over to the other side of the bar to grab a bottle of whiskey. Quickly, she poured two shots. “Want one?”

“Uh, I’m good,” the surprised sleuth replied. Damn, she must really be stressed out by all of this. Oh, crap, I hope she doesn’t break down and start crying.

Watching as Mrs. Capshaw downed one, then two shots of whiskey, Jake began to notice something different about the clubhouse today. Despite his detective skills, he’d only now realized that the room looked darker than usual and that Mrs. Capshaw had turned on the lights.

“Jake, let me ask you something. Do you know what a hall pass is?”

“Yeah, sure,” the high school student replied, chuckling. Glancing around, Jake finally put his finger on what was different. All the glass windows and the door had their blinds pulled down.

“No, I’m not talking about the school kind for when you need to use the bathroom. I mean the type that a spouse or significant other gives when they screwed up,” Sharon explained. “I mentioned the other day how I caught Mark having an affair years ago. But I didn’t mention part of the deal I made to save our marriage. I got a hall pass to do what he did. Sure, I used some of the passes around that time, but I wasn’t interested in a long-term affair to match his. He also doesn’t know what I did, for how long, or with whom. So, in my opinion, I haven’t used up the whole pass. Do you understand?”

“Um, I guess,” Jake muttered.

If the turn in the conversation with the MILF had already begun to shock him, Jake found himself fully stunned as Sharon slowly pushed the straps of the sundress off her shoulders. The two brushes left her standing in front of the bar in a skimpy, lace, baby-blue bra and matching panties. The young investigator’s mouth dropped open while he took in the full C-cups struggling to stay inside the flimsy demi-bra.

“I know you like my daughter, and I know you’ve always stared at me, especially this,” Sharon stated, turning to showcase her toned ass in the sexy panties. Pouring another pair of shots, she slid one down in Jake’s direction before wiggling her tight tush. “Better hit that. I’m fixing to fuck your brains out as my thank you.”

---

“If I said I was shocked, I’d be lying. That Nan Kronen always came across as a bitch,” Wisteria recalled. “Still, I am a little stunned to learn that they managed to blackmail people for a couple of decades. They did stop, right?”

“They did. Pearl found an incident report from the Anchor Rock Police Department dating back to the early 1990s. Apparently, Avery/Gilbert got roughed up. He refused to identify the perpetrator, but we suspect that it was one of their shakedowns. They also had a close call in Blueview a few years prior,” Phineas recounted. “Chief Norberg said they discovered a hidden nook in the basement with all their blackmail material. It appears to have stopped around 1994.”

“How is Harald taking your latest breaking and entering?”

“The chief isn’t thrilled that we risked our lives to get a confession. However, I couldn’t see any other way to catch them,” Phinn admitted. “He’s still not charging us with anything, but we’re back in the doghouse. Let’s say, very deep in it. But we’re okay with that as long as Wishkoski isn’t punished. Reyhall made threats, but Norberg outranks him. Wish swears he didn’t know which house we were in when we called him to listen. That’s mostly the truth.”

“Ah, I remember Jerry Reyhall when I had to go down to the station to get you three. I believe he was still a captain back then,” Wisteria recalled. She’d often helped keep things from their parents during their early detective years. “And how are Gilbert and Nan?”

“Health-wise? He’ll be fine. Legally? He’s screwed. Avery/Gilbert did kill Hagerman. He’s been listed as a missing person ever since, and his family suspected the Bethunes but lost track of them. It turns out the Cottonwood Police Department told them that they moved clear across the country,” Phinn revealed. “Kennedy Eaton is over in Cottonwood as we speak for the Dispatch. Erin went with. They’re asking tough questions about the Bethunes' ties to the mayor and other local officials.”

“Do they have any notion of where they buried that poor man?”

“Oh, yeah. It turns out that they kept one of the properties, the one near McCormick, because he’s buried in the basement. Crazy enough, a cadaver dog hit on a spot this morning. They’re in the process of breaking up the cement right now. Johanna Zay is outside providing her version of Body Watch Live. Last I heard, she’s feuding with Hollie Kittler down there.”

“And Nan? I heard she’s in intensive care,” Wisteria said, repeating the neighborhood gossip.

“Chief Norberg said it’s touch-and-go, but I doubt she survives. Her doctor confirmed a history of heart issues. We’ll probably be good, charges-wise, if she does die. But Jake feels bad. I mean, he did kinda scare her to death,” Phinn disclosed. “We might have to deal with some extra questions, but solving two cold cases helps. We’re also limiting our media exposure on this case, which has Johanna unsure if she should be happy or angry.”

“Well, I won’t shed a tear if she passes. I’m certain that I likely knew some of their victims,” Wisteria stated, gesturing to the picture of Mimi von Essen that she’d taken out of the envelope Phinn left behind for safekeeping. “Even though I was a half-dozen years younger, I could see that Mimi had a special quality to her. She’d brighten up a room just by entering.”

“Jake’s mom heard that law firms around town are suddenly very busy with wealthy or influential clients wanting their names kept out of the paper or airwaves,” Phinn revealed. “We’ve already had a request to meet with an attorney tomorrow morning. It sounds like his client wants to see if they’re on our list. It should be a fascinating way to start a Monday.”

“Are you in trouble at home? I know how your mother can get,” the concerned grandmother inquired.

“Mom’s not happy, but I think she’s as shocked as many of the neighbors. They can’t believe the Bethunes did all this stuff. Still, Mom and Dad are coming back on Wednesday. I suppose Pug tried to burn down my uncle’s house or something. Mom won’t tell me what he actually did. Until then, Katie Pettit is staying over to watch me. She returned last night from her trip, much like you did,” Phinn revealed, sighing. “Yes, I have a babysitter, and it’s embarrassing.”

Wisteria leaned over the desk to pat his hand sympathetically. She also shook her head at hearing that Pamela had complained to Mrs. Nook about Lance’s inability to keep an eye on Phinn.

“You could’ve saved yourself a lot of time and trouble if you’d contacted me. I could’ve told you that Ruth Bethune was Nan Kronen,” the author pointed out.

“Yes, we knew that you never liked her, but how did you know her?” Phinn inquired.

“Oh, it’s nothing to do with the blackmail. She’s what, a decade older than me?”

“I believe nine years,” Phinn stated.

“We bumped heads during my Nancy Drew phase,” Wisteria revealed, causing Phineas to grin. “While we never got into trouble like your group, we solved a few things. Nan Kronen came across our periphery a couple of times. I also recall her from citywide events my parents helped with. I always thought that she resented me for being Hamilton Harp’s daughter. Condescending and curt would be how I described her attitude to us students.”

“I’m confident that if she and Avery had tried to blackmail you, their reign of terror would’ve ended decades ago,” Phinn stated.

“I have no doubt,” Dusty’s grandmother confirmed. “Now, what’s keeping Jake?”

“I don’t know. Mrs. Capshaw asked him to stop by for a minute.”

“Oh, my. How is Sharon taking this? That poor woman.”

“A wide range of mood swings yesterday. Ecstatic about finding justice for her mother, but also fury at learning it was the Bethunes who hounded her mom. We saw some of it, but Libby stayed over there to keep Sydney company. She filled us in last night.”

“Once everything settles, I’ll have to organize something for those poor girls. For now, I’ll check in with them this week,” Wisteria promised.

“I’d better check on Corky. He’s still running this last day of the sale. Hopefully, Jake is helping him,” Phinn said. “Come on, Bandie. It’s time to go home. No, your favorite detective won’t be back for a little longer.”

---

Sharon stood half-bent forward, her hands gripping the side of the Monster Mash pinball machine. The married mother of two shivered as Jake ran his strong hands down her slender back before sliding them under her tight ass cheeks. Then, she felt him push, sending her higher up on the game. Then, his hands quickly moved to grab her hips before she could start to slide back down. Satisfied with her position, Jake reached down to re-line up his rock-hard dick with her pussy from behind.

“Are you going to put that big cock in me again? Can it keep fitting?” Sharon challenged, grinning naughtily over her shoulder at her young lover.

That Cheshire grin instantly vanished, morphing into a moan as Jake slid his large cock into her tight, hot hole. Moaning and groaning, the forty-five-year-old squirmed around on the pinball machine as each glorious inch slowly penetrated her yet again. Deciding to reward Jake with her body had been Sharon’s best idea in years. Mark deserved it, and Jake’s wide shaft hit places possibly never reached before. The sensation, the pain, the pleasure, they all left her barely able to breathe.

Standing behind the hairstylist, Jake marveled at his fortune. Moving automatically like a robot, he’d followed Mrs. Capshaw’s order to drink the shot of whiskey. Almost as soon as he’d finished, his parents’ friend’s lips met his with a soft, gentle kiss. Soon, those soft pecks turned into a mouth-devouring hunger that had their tongues dancing. Shocked to be in a make-out session with one of his oldest crushes' parents, Jake thanked Phinn for dragging him into these crazy cases. They’d turned some of the wildest fantasies into reality.

The kiss had grown hotter and heavier until Mrs. Capshaw pulled back to break the kiss. Panting, her dark brown eyes stared into his with burning desire.

“You really shouldn’t kiss me like that. I’m married, and Sydney’s mom,” Sharon said before purring playfully as her hands slid down his muscular arms.

“I’m willing to kiss and do more with you,” Jake replied, groaning as her hands slid up to pull his shirt off.

"I'm going to do a lot worse than kiss, but I think I’ll continue doing just that for now,” Sharon promised. Then, with a naughty gleam in her eyes, she slid down onto her knees.

Immediately, the older woman’s hands pawed at Jake’s shorts, prying open his belt and button before yanking them down. Next, she caressed the prominent bulge through his boxers until the underwear ended up across the clubhouse. Finally, Mrs. Capshaw gazed up with burning lust while positioning his steel rod where she wanted it.

“I’m going to love this cock. You can put it anywhere you want, and cum wherever. My body is all yours for today. I want you to make me scream. It’s what heroes deserve.”

What followed was one of the most intense blowjobs Jake had ever experienced. Definitely his oldest lover by far, Mrs. Capshaw displayed how experience mattered when it came to her cocksucking skills. Only Indigo, Trina’s slutty college roommate, worshiped his dick in such a wanton manner.

Fuck me! I guess I’m not marrying Sydney after this. Going over our list would be awkward, but it’s not like Libby would let me date her best friend. Fuck! Damn, Mr. Capshaw has certainly not been giving his wife what she needed.

To prove his point, Sharon told Jake to tell her when he couldn’t hold back any longer. Being the gentleman that he was, Jake complied, assuming the married woman didn’t swallow. How wrong he turned out to be. Instead, Mrs. Capshaw had pulled back moments before the eruption to direct his volleys of cum at her face. After the fifth cannon burst left her with a facial, Sharon swooped back in to swallow the remaining two rounds.

Watching the insanity of Mrs. Capshaw scooping his seed off her forehead, nose, cheeks, and chin to stuff inside her mouth had sent the blood rushing back to his dick. Standing up, the cheating wife performed a mini-striptease for her young hero. That skimpy demi-bra didn’t take long to discard, but Jake’s blood boiled when Sharon turned around to tantalizingly shimmy her baby blue panties down her fantastic ass and flawless legs.

Having admired that same ass for years in jeans, yoga pants, and swimsuits, Jake felt such a strong surge of lust that he spun the neighborhood woman around and picked her up. Her body got propped up against a Mrs. Pac-Man console cabinet. However, the setup didn’t work well, as Sharon’s head slammed backward against the game screen when Jake’s big dick entered her for the first time. Most importantly, the joystick ended up between Sharon’s asscheeks, which Jake could feel when he pistoned in and out of the horny housewife.

For these reasons, the illicit pair ended up using the pinball machine.

Sharon’s deep moans, sharp breaths, and high-pitched squeals of pleasure filled the small pool house. Although she should be concerned about someone overhearing her forbidden tryst, the exquisite feeling of Jake’s entire dick pummeling inside and out was worth the risk. If anything, people browsing the rummage sale shouldn’t be able to tell where the shrieks came from, if they did hear them.

“Fuck! Your ass is incredible, Mrs. Capshaw!” Jake grunted, his voice coming off as hoarse while his two hands massaged the twin globes.

“It’s yours…ugh…to fuck someday. Shit, yes! I just…need…damn…to prepare for…your huge cock,” Sharon promised through her panting.

The promise of something he’d never done before intrigued Jake. The resulting adrenaline rush also made him realize how much he disliked a pixie haircut on a woman whom he fucked from behind. There wasn’t anything to grab onto.

Without a makeshift ponytail to use, the horny stud decided to change up their position. He loved the crying moan that Mrs. Capshaw let loose upon feeling him leave her pussy. Grabbing her hips, Jake spun the older woman around before carrying her over to the poker table. With Sharon on her back, Jake proceeded to poke her hard and fast.

"Uh! Uh! Fuck! Uh! Uh! Yes!" the beautiful brunette chanted, arching her medium-to-large breasts into the air.

The rapid pistoning sent those C-cups swinging around wildly until Jake caught one of the bouncing nipples between his lips. Each powerful thrust sent the overwhelmed woman into a yelp or howl. Sharon also appreciated the wickedness of finally getting true payback for Mark’s cheating by fucking this young stud up against or on one of his toys. How many hours did he waste gambling with his buddies at this poker table? The thought of rewarding the athletic detective on Mark’s prized boat, similarly to the way rumors had Jake fucking those three young sluts, sent Sharon into another orgasmic bliss.

“You feel soooo tight, Mrs. Capshaw! Sooo fucky sexy!” Jake screamed, feeling her legs move up and around him as he drove his thick shaft inside repeatedly.

With those strong legs wrapped around his waist and trapping her humping body against his, Jake couldn’t hold back any longer. He let loose with another eruption deep inside Mrs. Capshaw’s shuddering body.

Eventually, Sharon felt the energy to mumble, “Mark cheated…on me for…at least…months. We’re not ending with…one day.”

---

Phineas and Bandit returned to the Magnums’ backyard through the gate off the alley. Immediately, Phinn noticed the empty driveway. Corky sat on a chair, looking bored. The stillness matched what they’d seen on the walk home. The annual rummage sale appeared to have finally petered out.

“Dead?” Phinn asked, startling Corky.

“Pretty much. It’s mostly been people with lowball offers,” the copper-haired assistant revealed. “I did manage to sell a few items at the minimum price your mom listed.”

“It looks like we sold a solid half of the stuff. Does that sound about right?” Phinn questioned, scanning the tables. It appeared as if the Magnums’ side had fewer items remaining. “My mom can’t be too disappointed. At least the house is still standing.”

“Right. Prof. Pettit went to the grocery store. She complained that all you had was junk food. That was about half an hour ago.”

“Any sign of Jake?”

“Nothing,” Corky replied, shrugging his shoulders. “Uh, is it okay if I get going? I have something that–”

“That’s fine. Um, thanks for your help. I don’t know what my mom planned, but I’m sure that she’ll pay you for helping when she gets back,” Phinn speculated.

“That’s okay. I had fun. I got to tackle Monster Manfredi while learning from you and Jake!”

Feeling somewhat uncomfortable about Corky's enjoyment and guilty for how he'd treated the fan club president, Phinn called for him to stop while about halfway down the driveway.

“Look, you showed some promise this week, Cormac. You performed a nice stealth entry next door and tailed the Bethunes. Now, maybe—and this is only a possibility—if you keep doing solid work, Jake and I could find additional tasks for you to handle during our investigations. I’m not promising anything, but perhaps you can work your way up to a reserve member of our agency.”

“A reserve member of Busybody, Inc.?”

“We don’t call it that anymore, but that’s what we might be able to do. I recognize it’s been a dream of yours for years.”

“Not really, thanks anyway,” Corky said, surprising Phinn. “I never wanted to join your group, but to learn from the three of you. My dream is to have my own mystery-solving team, and after getting Pete and Eli on board, I’ve done so. The Proofpuffers are now available to handle cases that you're not interested in or too busy to take on.”

“The Proofpuffers?” Phineas repeated, the words feeling distasteful on his tongue.

“You like the name? Don’t be jealous. I learned to think ahead toward high school,” the future junior high school student said, referring to the mascot of North High.

“Nope. I’m not jealous. Not at all,” Phinn replied, cringing at the thought of using the Puffers as part of their agency’s name.

Stunned, Phineas watched as Corky raced away. Suddenly, he groaned upon realizing how much trouble this new junior group of mystery-solvers could bring him and Jake. We’re not babysitters. Jake better fucking understand that. I’m not bailing those three boys out of trouble. Nobody did that for us. We learned on our own.

Turning around, Phinn heard Bandit whining near the table just inside his garage. The bulldog appeared to be trying to jump onto the nearby chair. Spotting Phinn looking his way, the dog barked.

“You slept at Grammy Harp’s! Don’t you need to go potty? You didn’t go on the way back, and I know she gave you plenty of treats and water,” Phinn pointed out.

Bandit barked at the word treat while trying to jump higher.

Moving closer, Phinn noticed the source of the bulldog’s agitation. A small dog bone had been left on top of a book on the table. Huh? That’s not the kind we buy. Maybe Katie brought it. Picking up the bone, Phinn gave it to Bandit, who raced into the backyard. Shaking his head at the always-hungry dog, the scrawny sleuth performed a double-take.

Picking up the book, Phineas saw it was a James Bond novel by Ian Fleming. Strange. Where did this come from? Is Katie going through a spy phase? Chuckling, Phinn started to put the book back down, planning to tease the young professor. Then, he stopped. Something felt off. He opened the front cover, and the handwritten note on the title page confirmed his sixth sense.

Boys,

I know what you did. It’s mine, and I will get it back. See ya soon.

PS: I’ll make it fun.

Staring at the note, Phinn smiled as the extra events of the last week suddenly made sense.

“Ah, I love it when a plan works. The game is afoot now.”