*All ages
The Case of the Missing Muffins
by Angela
A crash of thunder rattled the windows of Crabapple Farm, just outside of Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson. Startled by the sound, eight-year-old Trixie Belden looked up from the Penny Nichols mystery she was reading. She’d found The Black Imp while rummaging through some of the trunks up in the attic. It must have belonged to one of Grandpa Belden’s sisters when they were young.
"That was a big one Dad," she exclaimed."I guess the little people are enjoying their game today!"
"Sure sounds like they are, Trixie." Peter Belden looked up from his copy of The New York Times to smile at his golden-haired daughter, dressed in overalls, and sitting on the sofa with her dirty bare feet curled underneath her.
"Dad, do you think someday I can be a detective just like Penny Nichols?" Trixie, her blue eyes big as she looked over at her father.
Reaching over to ruffle her blonde curls, he winked and said, "I’m sure you can be anything you want to be, Pumpkin, but let's wait until you’re a little older to find out."
"Sure, Dad," she replied as she once again buried her nose in the exciting mystery.
A screen door slammed in the kitchen and a feminine voice scolded, "Martin Belden, don’t you dare traipse across my clean floor in those muddy boots, leave them on the porch! You too, Brian!"
"Yes, Moms."
Eleven-year-old Brian Belden walked quietly into the living room. His wet dark hair was plastered to his scalp, and his warm brown eyes were flashing with excitement. "Hi Dad! Guess what, Mart and I saw that stray dog skulking around again. It sure looks hungry."
Leaning around the edge of the door frame, Helen Belden warned, "Brian, I want you and Mart to stay away from that animal, it might be rabid."
"Aw, Moms," Mart complained, coming up behind her, his brush of blonde hair sticking up in wet spikes. "It looks like a really neat dog. Maybe we can tame it and make it a pet."
"Mart, you heard your mother!" Peter Belden said firmly. "Besides, when I think you’re ready for the responsibility of taking care of a dog, then, and only then, can you have one."
Trixie looked up from her book sniffing. "Mmmm ... what smells so good, Moms!"
"The apple muffins I made for dessert. Supper’s almost ready, so you guys go get washed up while I take the muffins out of the oven." Helen Belden made her way to the kitchen, and, taking the muffins from the oven, she thought to herself, Now where is the best place to let these set until it's time to eat them. Maybe I’ll just put them on the porch so they’ll cool a little.
A loud scream rang through the house, and Helen Belden dropped the tin of muffins on the window sill before racing up the stairs. "Oh Bobby, you little monkey, it's just like you to wake up from your nap just as Mommy’s trying to get supper ready," she muttered to herself.
The Belden family congregated around the big wooden kitchen table, feasting on fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and fresh greens from the garden. Blue eyes round with excitement, Trixie began telling her family about the new book she was reading.
"There’s this girl named Penny, see, and she goes to a show at this art gallery where she sees this little statue of a black imp made by another girl named Amy Coulter. While they’re at the gallery someone steals an important painting by a man named Rembrandt. Everyone thinks Amy Coulter took it because she left the gallery during the awards ceremony, but Penny doesn’t believe it. She thinks Amy left because her little imp didn’t win the prize for best art!"
Mart looked over at his younger sister, interested in spite of himself. "So what happened next, Trixie?"
"Don’t know yet, that’s as far as I got!"
A gust of wind shook the white frame house and the screen door on the porch slammed shut. Everyone jumped! "Goodness," Helen Belden exclaimed. "Did you boys forget to latch the screen door when you came in?"
"No, Moms, I made sure the latch had caught because it was so windy," Brian answered, his face serious. "I’ll go check on it."
"Bring in the muffins while you’re out there. I left them on the porch to cool off a little."
Less than a minute had passed when Brian walked back into the kitchen, a puzzled look on his face and an empty muffin tin in his hand. "Moms, I couldn’t find the muffins anywhere and the tin was lying on the floor.
"How strange!" Helen said. "Did any of you kids take them?"
"No way, Moms," Mart answered quickly. "I might sneak one, but I’d never take them all. That would be mean, after you went to so much work to make them for everybody."
Trixie jumped up and started dancing around the room, clapping her hands, and chanting "a mystery, a mystery, I have my very own mystery," eliciting amused chuckles from both of her parents.
"Very well, Miss Belden," her father teased, "who are your suspects?"
Trixie chewed pensively on her bottom lip, then shook her head. "I don’t know yet. I’m just going to have to look for clues."
Mart hooted with laughter. "Look for clues, who do you think you are Nancy Drew?"
"Don’t be silly, Mart," Trixie scoffed. "I’m too young to be Nancy Drew. Don’t you know anything?"
"Trixie, it's not nice to talk to your brother like that," her father scolded.
"Sorry, Dad, he just gets to me, always making fun of me. Brian ... do you think I can borrow your mag ... magni ... magnifying glass?" she asked, finally remembering the right word.
"Sure, Trix, it’s in the top drawer of my dresser. Just be careful not to break it."
Nodding, Trixie raced upstairs to the boys’ bedroom.
Holding Brian’s magnifying glass to her eye, Trixie searched the floor of the screened-in porch for clues. Starting near the window sill where Moms had last seen the muffins, she located a pile of crumbs. "Hmmm ... they must have fallen on the floor when the person put the muffins in a bag or something," she muttered.
"Hey, wait a minute!" she exclaimed. "There’s a small trail of crumbs leading to the door. The thief must have been so hungry, they couldn’t wait to eat one of Moms' muffins."
Trixie followed the trail of crumbs toward the screen door. Mart and Brian stood in the doorway of the house watching her curiously. Reaching the door, she looked down at the mat to see if she could find a clue that would tell her what direction the crook had went. "Oooo ... a muddy footprint, come see!"
The boys joined her, looking over her shoulder. "Aw, Trix, it's probably one of mine or Brian’s."
"No way, look again. See, it’s a lot smaller than what you or Brian would make. It’s even smaller than my foot. And look," she said pointing, "you can see the outline of toes, and that means the thief was in his bare feet. You and Brian were wearing boots, because I remember hearing Moms telling you both to leave them here in the porch."
Looking at his baby sister with awe, Brian said, "Gee, you're right. Sis. I didn’t realize you could be so smart."
Trixie grinned. "You never pay attention, that’s why!"
Looking outside, Mart said, "It looks like the rain has almost stopped. Let’s get our coats and boots and see if we can find anything else outside."
The three children dressed quickly then made their way outdoors. Everything around them seemed vibrant with color after the refreshing summer rain.
"Hey guys, look!" Trixie pointed. "More bare footprints! See the ones coming into the porch, and there are the ones the thief made when he left. Come on, let's see where they go.
Together Trixie, Brian, and Mart followed the footprints through the garden, across the barnyard, and up to the door of the small log barn. There they stopped, suddenly frightened. "I guess he went inside, huh?" Mart asked.
Brian nodded. "Think we should go in?"
"Oh you sissies!" Trixie said pushing past her brothers. "There’s nothing to be afraid of. With footprints that small the crook has to be a little kid, and if we have to, the three of us can take him."
"Maybe it's one of the little people," Mart whispered.
"Aw Mart, you chicken," Trixie asked disgustedly, "you don’t believe in the little people anymore do you?"
Standing up tall, and sticking out his chest, Mart said bravely, "I’m all grown up and I’m not afraid of anything!"
"Then let’s stop blabbering and go inside," Brian suggested.
Brian pushed open the door of the old barn, and the three siblings peered into the darkness. "See anything, guys?" Trixie asked softly.
Mart shook his head. "Not yet, let's go in a little further."
Stepping quietly, they entered the barn and started to look around. One of the milk cows mooed from her stall causing Mart to jump. "All I see is hay, cobwebs and manure. Lets get out of here!" he said breathlessly.
"Wait a minute, Mart." Something blue lying in a pile of hay caught her eye. Walking over to it, she bent to pick it up. Excitedly she said, "Someone was here, see, it's a blue barrette!"
Brian took the small barrette from her fingers. It was shaped like a little blue butterfly, with tiny gold spots painted on its wings and outlining its antennas. "Well, we definitely know it isn’t yours, Trix," he commented dryly. "You tear them out of your hair as fast as Moms puts them in."
Insulted, Trixie aimed a kick at his ankle, but expecting it, Brian managed to step out of its path. Trixie wasn’t so lucky though. Losing her balance she fell into the pile of hay and came up with hair and clothes covered with chaff.
Mart and Brian burst into whoops of laughter, almost bent double by the appearance of their sister.
"Very funny ... Hah ... hah ... hah!" she said flatly. "Now if the two of you can stop laughing long enough to help me up, we can look for some more clues."
Containing his grin, Brian reached down to pull Trixie to her feet. "Okay, there doesn’t seem to be anyone down here, do you think she might be up in the hay mow?"
"Whoa," Mart said. "She? Did I miss something?"
"Yes, she, lame-brain. Little boys don’t wear barrettes if you recall." Trixie sent him a dirty look just daring him to comment. He chose not to.
"All in favor of checking out the loft say aye."
Three ‘ayes’ rang out in the silence of the barn.
"Let me go first," Trixie pleaded, "it's my mystery." As her brothers stood back, she placed a foot on the first rung of the ladder, and started to climb. Brian and Mart were close on her heels.
Panting, she finally reached the top step and collapsed into the sweet smell of the fresh cut hay. "Mmmm ... I love it up here." Looking around her, she watched the beams of sunlight that poured through chinks in the barn wall, playing games of light with the dust motes that floated down from the rafters high above.
"Sure is peaceful up here," Brian commented as he lay beside her. "A good place to sit and read, but once Dad gets the rest of the hay off he won’t want us up here. Moms is afraid that one of us will slip and fall to the stone floor."
Trixie rose to her feet and started to look around the loft. Brian and Mart moved in opposite directions. Wait a minute, what’s that? Quietly Trixie moved toward the blur of white peeking over the top of a small mound of hay. "Hey Brian, Mart, I think I found something," she whispered.
Before her on the hay lay a pale white foot, and attached to that foot was a thin denim clad leg belonging to a little girl with long dark hair who lay sleeping in a burrow in the hay. Black lashes curled against dark skin, and pink bow lips parted slightly with each deep breath. Dark ringlets lay against a saturated white blouse.
Trixie bent over and started to shake the girl. "Diana Lynch, wake up, wake up right this minute!"
Confused violet eyes opened and peered up at the three Belden children. "Trixie?" Diana said groggily. "What are you doing here?"
"What am I doing here?" Trixie looked surprised. "I live here! The question is what are you doing sleeping in our barn?"
Diana’s big violet eyes filled with tears, and her bottom lip started to tremble. "I ran away," she wailed before bursting into tears.
"Oh, stop your bawling," Mart grumbled, "and tell us what happened!"
"I wanted to come out here and spend the night with Trixie, but Mummy wouldn’t let me! I was so mad that I got on my bike and rode and rode, but then I couldn’t remember where she lived. It started raining so I hid in this old barn. I was afraid to go to the house, because they would probably call Mummy and I’d be in trouble. I got so hungry that I went to the house anyway, but when I saw the muffins I dumped them in my knapsack and came back here. Guess I fell asleep," she said sheepishly.
"Where’s your bike?" Trixie asked.
"Oh! I ... um ... I hid it in one of the stalls down there," she pointed.
"We’re going to have to tell Moms and Dad you’re here," Brian said responsibly.
Diana nodded, "I know." She stopped to think. "They’ll call Mummy and Daddy, won’t they?"
"Of course they will, silly," Trixie answered.
"Good! I want to go home. I never want to have another adventure like this as long as I live," Diana said firmly.
But Trixie thought to herself, Well I hope I find another mystery again and real soon!
The End