Just a little smidgen more of this icing and…

"Done!" Grandma Tracy exclaimed. Her doubly devilishly delight chocolate cake had recently become a staple of the dessert table at Annie Winthrop's Church meetings. Grandma beamed when Alma Harrison told the excited group of ladies that 'Ruthie's cake fuels the Church Group!' at last week's meeting. Grandma wanted the cake to be as big a hit as last week, considering this was still a new recipe for her. All she needed was a pinch of confectioner's sugar. She rummaged through the cabinets, unable to find it.

Oh dear, no more sugar. Grandma removed her apron and hung it before climbing down the stairs to the basement. Usually she would ask one of her

Grandbabies to do it, but she couldn't risk them finding out about the cake. Those boys and their chocolate, she harrumphed while she grabbed the small packet of confectioner's sugar and made her way back upstairs.

Grandma poured the confectioner's sugar into her hands and sprinkled it around the cake…

…until she saw the bite mark. Correction, added Grandma,the bite abyss.

She had one suspect in mind. One suspect that could easily turn into 5 more suspects, but Grandma had the most obvious suspect in mind.

Scott Tracy! Get your backside down to this kitchen! Right. Now!

Grandma paced the length of the homely Midwestern kitchen. She froze when she heard footsteps, and grabbed the nearest hard object-in this case, a wooden spoon. Grandma was only mildly surprised when she heard not one but two pairs of footsteps.

"How cute," Grandma muttered, "he brought backup." But when the kitchen door swung open, it was not her eldest grandson, his lanky teenage build filling the small doorway, but instead her second youngest, Gordon. Grandma looked down from where she expected Scott's head to be and scowled at her auburn-haired grandson.

She calmly walked over to where Gordon, who was joined by a frightened little Alan, was standing. Grandma smacked the end of the wooden spoon against her hand while questioning the boy.

"I see, Gordon Tracy. You came here to turn yourself in early, I suppose?"

A look of honest confusion crossed his face, and he blinked at his grandmother.

"Grandma, what are you talking about?"

The Grandma in question set the spoon on the kitchen counter before sitting down at the table.

"Someone has taken a bite out of my chocolate cake," as an afterthought, she added, "could it have possibly been one of you two?"

The glazed look of delight at the mention of Grandma's chocolate cake turned into a mixture of confusion on both of the boy's faces.

"No, Grandma," Alan shook his head vigorously.

Gordon, who seemed to be deep in thought, now climbed into his grandmother's waiting lap. "Grandma! I have the perfect idea!"

Grandma shot Alan a wide-eyed look of terror while the little blond boy held back his snickers.

"You do, Gordon? Now, what is this idea?" Grandma prodded.

"Me and Alan can find out who ate your cake!"

Alan gave Gordon a bewildered look, "Me and who! When did I say yes to this?"

"When you signed the contract, smart one," Gordon turned his attention back to his Grandma and wrapped his arms around her neck. "You see, Grandma, Allie and I are detectives."

"Yup, yup! We have our own company, too!"

"Tracy & Tracy, Co.!" The boys chorused in unison.

"Except we're not really sure what 'Co.' means, but Virgie told us that's what makes your company look official," Alan mentioned.

Gordon nodded in agreement and jumped off his Grandmother's lap.

"Just think, Grandma. We can find out who really ate your cake!"

Grandma pursed her lips in mock consideration, but in reality, she was so glad her two youngest grandson's were close again, that her mind was made up since they first mentioned the idea.

"Well, alright. I'll also include a meager stipend if you do manage to find the culprit, of course."

"Oh no, Grandma," Gordon shook his head and gave his Grandmother a cheeky grin, "this one's on the house."

"Tootles, tootles, stay. Stay. Good kitty," Virgil fed Tootles the Cat another treat. He had been placed on pet-sitting duties for the weekend while his best friend, Rob, went on vacation with his family. Rob had been a good friend of his for a very long time now, and had always had Virgil's back, so it was easy for Virgil to make the decision once his friend had asked him.

It's just two days, and she's a doll. Tootles won't bother anyone. Rob had said yesterday, the Friday when Tootles was dropped off.

Rob was right, Tootles was a doll to take care of. She didn't do anything.

Virgil got up his perch on his bed and grabbed Tootles before heading off to treat Tootles to some toys. Maybe that'll help her, Virgil pondered for the right word, live!

Gordon walked the length of his room/interrogation office, hands perched behind his back, chin squared in defiance. He never faced his suspect, just stared straight ahead, not bothering to acknowledge the presence of the older teen, unless to ask him questions.

"Please state your name for the record," Alan deadpanned across the table from the suspect, pen poised in hand, ready. Waiting.

"What is all this about?" questioned the bored teen.

"You know perfectly what this is about," answered Gordon.

"You've been arrested," Alan added coolly.

"No, no, no, no. You can't arrest me with a pair of handcuffs that say 'Super Stellar Sheriff' on them."

"Oh yeah? Try us," Gordon said.

"Please answer the question. I repeat, Please state your name."

Defeated, the teen slumped back in his seat, "Scott Tracy," he mumbled.

"What is your age?"

"Sixteen," Scott yawned.

"Where is your residence?"

"Next to your room, Squirt."

"Mr. Tracy, may I remind you that everything you say is being recorded and will be used in a court..."

"…yeah, yeah, yeah. Kansas."

Alan sifted through a dossier. "Where were you on Saturday, August 7?"

Scott pretended to search through his mind, "Uh, home?"

"You don't seem so sure of that, Tracy," Gordon spoke for the very first time, always pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth.

"You want sure? Fine. I was at home, finishing my summer reading packet," Scott sat back in his seat. His two little brothers dragged him from his room to their bedroom, where he was seated.

"So you weren't in the kitchen today?" Alan continued, taking notes.

"Just for breakfast, this morning. Honest."

Gordon stopped in front of Scott's seat from across the table. He slowly removed his sunglasses and pocketed them. Gordon leant across the table and looked into Scott's eyes. Scott met the gaze and the two stayed there. Blue meeting green. Green backing off.

Gordon tapped Alan's shoulder, "He's clean."

"Well, Mr. Tracy, you're free to go," Alan shuffled a few papers around and offered Scott his hand.

Scott met it and, as an afterthought, added, "There is one person you could interrogate, who might lead you to some clues."

"Who?" Gordon and Alan asked in unison.

Scott smiled and was already out the door when the two brothers heard his reply,

"Dad."