The Case of the Vanishing Velvet Cupcake

Leo was the world's greatest detective. At least, he was in his own mind. He wore a plastic magnifying glass around his neck and a floppy brown hat that occasionally slipped down over his eyes. Today, Detective Leo was facing his most difficult challenge yet: The Mystery of the Vanishing Velvet Cupcake.

He had placed the cupcake specifically on a blue plate right in the center of the kitchen table. It was a masterpiece of baking, bright red with a mountain of fluffy white frosting and a single gold sprinkle on top. Leo had gone to the hallway to find a fancy napkin, which took exactly forty-five seconds. When he returned, the blue plate was as empty as a ghost town.

"Aha!" Leo cried, clicking his tongue. "The thief was fast, but I am faster."

He leaned over the table, peering through his magnifying glass. He was looking for fingerprints, or perhaps a stray hair. Instead, he spotted a tiny white smear on the edge of the wooden chair. It looked suspiciously like cream cheese frosting. The trail led across the shiny linoleum floor and straight into the laundry room.

Leo crept on his tiptoes, trying to be as silent as a shadow. He reached the washing machine and found his first suspect. Barnaby, the family’s large, sleepy grey cat, was busy licking his front paws.

"Barnaby," Leo whispered, pointing his magnifying glass at the cat. "Did you commit this sugary crime? Speak now, or forever hold your peace!"

Barnaby just blinked his giant green eyes and let out a long, bored yawn. Leo inspected the cat’s whiskers. There was no red cake, no white frosting, and certainly no gold sprinkle. The cat was innocent.

Leo didn't give up. He turned around and marched toward the backyard. He saw his older sister, Chloe, sitting on the porch swing. She was holding a napkin and her jaw was moving. Leo narrowed his eyes. This was the "smoking gun."

"Chloe!" he shouted, pointing a finger. "Hand over the goods! I know you took the velvet treasure while my back was turned!"

Chloe stopped swinging and looked at him like he was from another planet. She opened her mouth wide to show him a half-eaten, very sour green apple. "I don’t even like red velvet, Leo," she said with a shrug. "It’s way too sweet for me. Why don't you go check the crime scene again, Sherlock? You probably just lost it."

"A detective never loses his evidence!" Leo grumbled.

He marched back to the kitchen, feeling his stomach growl with hunger. He was tired and defeated. He sat down in his chair and leaned his head back with a heavy sigh. As he did, he felt something cold, wet, and squishy hit the very back of his neck.

"What in the world?" he gasped.

He reached back and pulled away a hand covered in thick, white frosting. He looked up at the bottom of the kitchen cabinets. There was a small, built-in spice rack that hung very low over the table. And there, sitting right on the edge of that rack, was his red velvet cupcake.

Suddenly, Leo remembered. He hadn't put the cupcake on the table at all. He had been worried that Barnaby the cat might jump up and grab it, so he had tucked it onto the high spice rack for safety. Then, his brain had completely forgotten the plan the moment he saw the blue plate.

He had spent the last twenty minutes accusing his cat and his sister of a crime that never happened. He had chased shadows and fruit-eaters while the cupcake was waiting patiently right behind his head the whole time.

Leo wiped the frosting off his neck with his fingers and took a giant, happy bite. The gold sprinkle crunched perfectly. "Case closed," he mumbled through a mouthful of cake. "The detective always gets his man... or his cupcake."