So here's what we have to work with:
One traumatized damsel in distress.
One pair of weary parents.526Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXtEAR9ryNP
One missing slice of cake.
And sixteen possible suspects.
Now, this was the perfect time to shine. The traumatized damsel in distress was Rebecca Bradley. Also known as the love of my life. She loves me too, she just doesn't want to admit it to her friends just yet. I understand. Her friends are snobs and I'm one of the kids who likes to read and knew bigger words, a fact that makes me a social pariah in the fourth grade. She must have been so happy to use the excuse of me being in her class to invite me without suspicion. Unfortunately, that meant inviting Joe but that goes to show how much she loves me too if she was willing to invite Joe to her party.
But I digress. I read Sherlock and watched the HBO TV show along with the Robert Downey Jr. movies plus I was in the middle of the second season of Elementary.
Sherlock's wisdom has been passed onto me through the words of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the various adaptations of his work. Granted, I do not have a Watson, but Sherlock didn't have a Watson at some point and he was still more than brilliant.
Rebecca's parents and friends were trying to console her and everyone else was talking amongst themselves so I took the chance to investigate.526Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAQEToRoINW
First, was the cake itself.
It was a three tiered strawberry - Rebecca was allergic to chocolate, the poor unfortunate soul - cake. The cake itself was vanilla from the looks of it, and the frosting bright bubblegum pink and decorated with whipped cream and sugar glazed strawberries. Happy Birthday Becky! was scrawled in a practiced cursive font in white frosting on the top.526Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLosiXMMprC
It would have been perfect, picturesque, but someone had clawed at it like a savage beast. Handprints marred the bottom most tier. The perpetrator had most definitely simply grabbed handfuls of the cake and eaten it. It was a mess.
Upon closer inspection, the handprints were unrecognizable. They overlapped and the soft frosting did not make the best of prints.
So I moved onto the scene of the crime. Where the cake had been prior to Mrs. Bradley bringing it into the living room and removing the cardboard box that had been useless in protecting it.
The kitchen.
I quietly snuck away from the group. Rebecca was still trying to be consoled by her friends and parents and no one noticed me slip out.
The kitchen was quaint. White tiled with peach accents. The cake had been sitting on the island, next to the colorful plastic cups and plates that Mrs. Bradley had given to us when we had been snacking.
Climbing up onto the barstool to get a better look, I scanned the surface for any clues. There were plates and cups and a piled up empty dishes that had held mini burgers and chips and other snacks we had eaten prior to the violated cake being brought out. But that was it. The island was spotless.526Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIti4xGesDv
Disheartened, I clambered off the stool and walked around the island. That was when I spotted the smudge of bright bubblegum pink on the underside of the tabletop.
I went to the smudge and sniffed. It smelled of sugar. It was undoubtedly the icing from the cake. The perp must have wiped their hand against the island. Still, it didn't help me much. The perp was just smart enough to wipe the evidence somewhere other than their clothes or the like.
"Thomas, what are you doing?"526Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHmMwa4M8vg
I turned around to see Mr. Bradley standing at the door of the kitchen.
"I was thirsty," I lied. "Is Rebecca okay?"
Mr. Bradley grabbed one of the plastic cups and filled it with water, handing it to me.
"She'll be fine. It was just a bit of cake. She has to learn that she can't throw tantrums over every little thing though," he sighed wearily.
I frowned in thought. Sure, throwing tantrums constantly wasn't a good thing, but considering the circumstances, I believed Rebecca was justified in being upset. Someone violated her birthday cake.
"Your parents will be coming by to pick you up soon. Becky wants everyone to go home."
I nodded and finished the water before following Mr. Bradley out of the kitchen. My heart sunk. I was no Sherlock. Sherlock would have known who the Cake Assaulter was within seconds of seeing the mangled pastry.
I sat quietly with some of the other boys in my class who weren't exactly close to Rebecca. Joe, unfortunately, was one of them.526Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsv2DI10hGy
"Jeez, why is she so upset. It was just a cake and it didn't even taste that great," he scoffed.
My eyes flew up to his face.
I pointed my finger at him, "You ate the cake! You just admitted it!"
My words were loud enough be heard by everyone in the room. Including Rebecca who had been sulking on the couch at the other end of the room.526Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk2lq93fmTs
I'm not sure what happened after my declaration but I found myself lying down on a couch with an ice pack on my left eye that was throbbing slightly. Rebecca was screaming at Joe and Joe was screaming at Rebecca and I smiled because when Rebecca calmed down, she would remember that I was the one who caught the culprit and it would give her the perfect excuse to talk to me in school and not pretend to snub me with her friends.
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