Sheriff Lucy Valentine was just finishing her breakfast—four Hostess Twinkies—when her phone rang.
“Sheriff’s office,” she said, licking her fingers.
“Lucy? It’s me. Eating healthy again?”
The sheriff sighed. The amazing Frances Valentine, she thought. A retired schoolteacher, Fran always seemed to know her daughter’s secret vices. Especially those that might—in Fran’s mind—hinder Lucy’s chances of finding a future husband. “What is it, Mother?”
“Don’t use that tone with me. This is police business. I want to report a burglary.”
Lucy stared at the phone. “A burglary?”
“Wooten’s Furniture.”
“I haven’t heard anything about—”
“You have now,” Fran said. “A van drove off with stolen goods an hour ago.”
|
