Undetected
“We’re detectives,” said the teenager in Greta’s doorway. “Like Nancy Drew. But guys.”
“And brothers!” the other boy added.
Greta studied them. “So…more like…the Hardy Boys?”
“Who?” the Hardly-there Boys asked together.
Greta smirked. “Never mind.”
“We’re tracking a thief,” explained the first boy. “He’s targeting Culpepper Lane!”
Greta gasped.
“Vases, television, artwork.” The second boy ticked off his fingers. “Even Mrs. Giovanni’s tiara! We’re questioning everyone. May we come inside?”
“Certainly,” Greta said. “I was just setting up my new TV.” She ushered them into her immaculate foyer, a sea of diamonds sparkling unnoticed atop her head.
From Guest Contributor John Adams
John (he/him/his) lives near Kansas City, where he produces comedy shows and writes about teenage detectives, robo-butlers, and cursed cowboys. Twitter: @JohnAmusesNoOne.