By Lisa Timpf
“Here’s the tracks the thief left, Frank.” Fairyland Hardware’s proprietor Marvin pointed to a muddy patch of ground behind the store.
I ambled over to look. Word about my crime-solving prowess had gotten around. These days, Frank’s Detective Agency was the first stop for most Fairyland folk when they had a mystery to unravel, and that worked for me.
The thick mud had preserved a pair of sharply-outlined pawprints.
I’d seen tracks just like those wreathing all around what was left of my house of sticks, that night the Big Bad Wolf…
Get a grip.
If it was the Wolf who’d broken into Fairyland Hardware…
All the more reason to make sure the case got solved. When my brother Bob’s construction business picked up a few months ago, he hired the Wolf to assist him with the heavy lifting. “Everyone deserves a second chance,” Bob told me.
What if Bob was mistaken? What if he was slated to be the Wolf’s next victim?
The Wolf requested November off, without saying why. Now I had an idea what he was up to.
Proving my suspicions would take work, but I couldn’t ask Bob for help. He’d defend the Wolf.
Fortunately, I had a backup plan. “I’ll borrow Old Mother’s Hubbard’s dog. He won’t steer me wrong.”
***
“Track it, Barkley.”
Mother Hubbard’s beagle glanced up, then got to work. He sniffed the muddy tracks, then trotted toward the park, nose to the ground.
As we walked across the grass, a cloud passed over the sun, and I shivered. Then I spotted a large gray creature approaching, and froze. Yellow eyes met mine. Eyes belonging to the entity formerly known as the Big Bad Wolf.
He goes by Mr. Wolf, now.
As if a change in name meant a change in habits!
I fought the urge to run. You’re a detective. There’s a case to solve.
Maybe I should confront him right here and now.
Muscles tensed, I watched as the wolf drew closer.
Wolves are tricky. You need evidence, or he’ll just deny it.
Barkley, nose to the ground, trotted past Mr. Wolf.
Wait. Did that mean Mr. Wolf wasn’t the perp?
As the wolf strolled by, I stood stock-still, fearing the worst.
He shot me a side-eyed look, but nothing more. Trembling, I watched Mr. Wolf until he was out of sight.
I drew a deep breath. “Let’s go, Barkley. Time to track.”
***
Walking behind Barkley gave me time to think. Was it possible Mr. Wolf had changed from the terror of Fairyland to a solid citizen?
Barkley and I stopped for sustenance at the Pat-A-Cake Café. While Barkley chomped on a donut, I sipped a coffee and thought about Mr. Wolf. No matter how much I changed, Bob saw me as the stubborn pig who wouldn’t listen to advice—just like many Fairyland denizens continued to see Mr. Wolf as the perpetual villain.
When we picked up the trail, Barkley led me to the Fairyland Humane Society. Above the entrance, a banner waved in the breeze. “November—Adopt a Senior Pet Month.” Under that were the words, “Everyone deserves a second chance.”
I spotted Mr. Wolf at the front door, handing out informational brochures.
My shoulders slumped. If Barkley had led me here, Mr. Wolf must be guilty after all.
Barkley had done his job so I let him off-leash for some free time, knowing he’d stick around.
Once I’d done that, I was out of excuses to delay the inevitable. I forced myself to meet Mr. Wolf’s yellow-eyed gaze. “It was you!”
“What was me?”
“The Fairyland Hardware robbery.”
“You don’t trust me, do you?”
I snorted. “Understatement of the year.” I cocked my head. “Wait. I hear baying.”
Mr. Wolf rolled his eyes. “That’s normal around here.”
“It’s Barkley.” I ran, with Mr. Wolf at my heels.
***
When we found Barkley, he was standing in front of a man wearing overalls.
The man glanced left, then right, like a trapped animal.
“What’s going on?” A second man, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, marched past us.
“That’s the shelter’s manager,” Mr. Wolf whispered.
I glanced around, checking out the large enclosed space where we stood. To our right, a wall had been partly framed in. Stacks of two-by-fours sat waiting for use.
The man’s eyes darted to a closed door on one of the finished walls.
I strode over and opened the door. Boxes of nails stood on a shelving unit inside a closet.
The time I’d spent as Bob’s inept helper told me there were far more nails than needed. More two-by-fours, too, now that I thought about it. I spotted Fairyland Hardware’s logo on one of the boxes. “I’ll bet he’s storing stolen materials while he tries to find a buyer for the items.”
The manager turned toward the other man. “You’re my brother. I trusted you.”
I backed away quietly. As I walked toward the entrance, I thought about the pawprints in the mud. They’d been so precise and were left so carelessly. Very un-wolf-like.
The perp had framed Mr. Wolf, and I’d been so convinced of the former villain’s guilt that I hadn’t noticed.
I turned to face Mr. Wolf. “Sorry I doubted you.”
He shrugged. “You kept an open mind.”
“If you hadn’t been so mysterious about needing time off in November—”
“It’s a big month for the Shelter. Volunteering here was a form of atonement for—you know.”
“You could’ve told Bob.”
“I have a reputation to uphold.” Mr. Wolf’s eyes twinkled. “And I’ve thought of a way you can atone for doubting me.”
I gulped. “Look, I—”
Mr. Wolf held out a paw, precluding further protest. “You sometimes need a tracker, right?”
“Yeah. I’m wearing out my welcome with Mother Hubbard.”
“Look around. If you find someone suitable here, I’ll pay the adoption fee.”
“You’d do that? For me?”
“For them, too.” He gestured toward the kennel area. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Fairytale mysteries are rare. Thank you for this unique story.
nice twist!!
jdoran: Thanks for the comment! The Frank the Detective stories have been fun to write!
Laurie: Thanks for the comment!
Nicely done!
smsetzer: Thanks!
Mysteries and second chances–a great combination!
Amusing story! I love it! I also liked the shout-out for adopting aging dogs.
Neatly done! And a well-thought-out theme!