The Case of the Missing Skillet

The rain is heavier. So is the traffic. Still 117 miles to go. Take a deep breath. Remember the serenity of strolling through the preserve and hearing the melodious cheer, cheer, cheer and then rapidly woight-woight-woight of a cardinal flitting among the pepper shrubs. A tiny turtle with orange stripes was in the middle of the path. Peaceful morning.

Kathy’s voice mail. Calling Inspector Clouseau. We have a major crisis looming. Call me back.

Oh my, last month, it was Great Grandfather’s mantle clock.  Mom and Dad hid the clock because they were certain crazy Aunt Louise would insist it belonged to her.

“Hey, Kathy, what’s wrong now?”

“Mom and Dad can’t find her cast-iron skillet and they are sure Aunt Louise took it with her when she left.”

“Really! That’s nuts.

“I know Karen, but they want you to come. You are the smart one, Inspector Clouseau.

“Inspector Clouseau was a bumbling, absent-minded, silly man.”

“Yes, but he always solved his case and you will too.”

Shower. Eat a blueberry bran muffin. Pack an overnight bag and aspirin. Hit the road.

 

Dad brews tea using the intricate designed teapot with the matching cups they bought on their trip to China. Mom sets a plate of her famous soft molasses cookies on the kitchen table. The investigation begins.

“It’s my favorite skillet, you know how perfect it is for your Dad’s fried egg sandwich. Now it’s gone” Mom said as she offered me another cookie.

“Your Aunt Louise is always poking around when she visits. And when I carried her suitcase to the car, it was heavy. I thought that was strange,” Dad grumbled.

“Mom and Dad, do you really think she would steal a cast-iron skillet and lug it all the way to California? That’s nuts.”

Note to self: Don’t roll your eyes; they are your parents after all.

“Okay, when did you last used it and where do you store it?”

“I’m not sure, but it isn’t in the bottom drawer and I’ve looked there. We both have, isn’t that right Leonard?”

I pulled open the stove drawer and yep it isn’t there, but wait, something is stuck.

“Dad help me pull out the drawer.”

Mom, we found it!

“Now why did Louise put it back there.”

The Pink Panther strikes again.