Lemon Larceny (The Donut Mysteries) by Jessica Beck

hurt us?”
    “It has to be a
possibility we consider.   After all,
we’re investigating a murder, at least that’s what it appears to be.”   I looked at the footprints, even now
starting to dry.   Why hadn’t I
brought my phone downstairs with me so I could take a picture before the
footprints all evaporated?   “Momma,
you don’t happen to have your phone with you, do you?”
    “No, it’s
charging upstairs in my bedroom.   Why, do you think we should call Hank after all?”
    “Maybe, but
that’s not why I wanted your phone.   I thought that it might not be a bad idea to take a picture of those
footprints before they faded away completely.”
    “That’s smart
thinking,” Momma said.   “I’ll be
right back.”
    As she went to
retrieve her phone, I knew that she was going to be too late.   I could barely make out the footprints
at it was, and they were all fading rapidly.   Putting my foot beside the most legible
remaining print, I saw that whoever had been down there had clearly been someone
with much larger feet than I had, and no one had ever called me petite.   That made our unwelcome visitor most
likely a man.   Then again, it could
have just as easily have been a woman wearing a man’s boots to throw us
off.  
    Either way, there
was no way to capture the true size of the print now.
    Momma came down
the steps a few minutes later, proudly carrying her cellphone.   “I’ve got it.”
    “Thanks,” I said,
“but it’s too late.”
    She glanced down
at where the tracks had been, and then she frowned.   “Oh, well.   I still think that it was a brilliant
idea to take a snapshot of it.”
    “For all of the
good it did us,” I said.   I yawned a
bit, and then I asked her, “I guess the most important question besides the
identity of our unauthorized visitor is whether they got what they came for?”
    “They might have
if you hadn’t been so alert, but I doubt they had time to do anything but run,”
Momma answered.   “It’s a lucky thing
that you were awake to hear them down here.”
    “I couldn’t
sleep,” I admitted, “so I was a little restless.   Sorry I woke you.”
    “Don’t
apologize.   Honestly, I’m amazed
that I managed to fall asleep at all.   Is there any chance that you can grab a little more rest before we have
to get up and get started with our day?”
    I realized that
though I was awake, I was still tired.   “I’m willing to try if you are.   Is there the slightest possibility that either one of us will be able to
nod off after someone just broke into the house?”
    “Why shouldn’t
we?” Momma asked as she rubbed my shoulder reassuringly.   “After all, you just fixed the door, didn’t
you?”
    “Sure, but what’s
to keep them from trying again?”
    “I don’t think
they will tonight,” Momma said emphatically, “and even if they do, I can’t
imagine another access point open to them.”
    “Maybe not, but
just in case, I’m going to barricade the basement door from this side,” I said
as we walked up the steps and closed the door behind us.
    “Don’t you need
more wood and those tools to do that?” Momma asked.
    “No, we’re going
to do this the old-fashioned way.”   I grabbed a kitchen chair and tilted it at an angle until I could wedge
it under the doorknob to the basement.   “Let them try to get through that, even if they do manage to break in downstairs
again.”
    “Suzanne, I feel
better already, but I may do the same thing with the door in my bedroom.   Let them take what they want as long as
they leave us alone.”
    “It’s probably
not a bad idea at that,” I said.  
    Once we were on
the second floor, Momma said, “Good night again, Suzanne.”
    “Night,
Momma.   I love you.”
    “I love you, too,
my sweet child,” she said with a smile.
    I didn’t think
I’d ever be able to sleep, but to my surprise, sunlight peeking in through the
blinds woke me up again a little after seven.
    After I took a
shower