The mystery of the missing Ingredient

Mark stood at the glass door and took in a deep breath, closing his eyes as the smell of freshly baked bread infiltrated his nostrils. This may be one assignment he might actually like. He opened his eyes and looked down at the paper in his hands. 

The owner, Mister Young, claimed someone broke in during the night and stole some of his property. The front desk officer who took the call said he wouldn’t tell her what had been stolen. 

A little bell jingled overhead when he opened the door and stepped inside. The place was spotless, with off-white walls and a light blue and black checkered floor. His shoes clicked on the tiles as he made his way to the old fashion looking counter. 

A young woman behind a cash register greeted him with a smile. “What can I get for you?” 

He looked around at the pies, loaves of bread, and cookies on display, and for a moment, he forgot why he had come. The temptation to snag a tasty treat messed with his mind, and made him feel like a kid again. 

He shook his head to clear the fog and looked back up into the brown eyes of the lady behind the counter. “I’m here to see Mr. Young about the break-in. Is he available?”

Her smile faded as she nodded her head and left the counter to find the owner. She returned a few minutes later with a short pudgy man trailing along behind her. 

“I’m Wayne Young.” The older man offered Mark his hand.

The last thing he wanted to do was shake the chubby flour-covered hand that stretched out in front of him, but he didn’t want to be rude either. With a grimace, he shook the man’s hand, then attempted to wipe the flour off on his navy blue dress pants. 

Not the smartest thing he ever did. He frowned as he looked down at the white powdery stuff sticking to his freshly pressed pants. Sighing, he turned his attention back to the man standing in front of him. “Can you show me how the burglars got in?”

“Sure. Come right this way.” Wayne wobbled off through a set of double doors, down a short hall, past the kitchen, to a storage room. He pointed up at a broken window. “Right through there. They came in, stole my stuff, then walked right out the front door. The nerve of those crooks, breaking into my place of business." He shook his head sadly.

Mark nodded as he wrote down notes on the paper in his hand. “And what did they take?”

Wayne huffed. “Can you believe they took my secret ingredient?” 

“They took what?” Mark wasn’t sure he had heard correctly. How could someone steal a secret ingredient?

“Yeah, of all the things in here they could have taken, that’s the only thing missing. How am I supposed to bake my world-famous pecan pumpkin bread without the secret ingredient?” He threw his hands up in the air and let them fall again to his side.

“I’m still not sure what was stolen.” Mark frowned as he looked at the chubby man, then back at the small broken window. He was wondering how anyone could climb through such a small space. The broken glass on the floor confirmed that was how the burglar got in, and he should be looking for a very skinny thief. 

“My secret ingredient.” The man blew out his breath.

Mark scratched his head and closed his notebook. “So, what is the secret ingredient?”

“I can’t tell you that. It’s a secret.” Wayne closed the door to the supply room and walked back towards the kitchen area.

Mark scrambled to keep up with him. For a chubby man, he moved pretty fast. “But how am I supposed to know what I’m looking for if you don’t tell me what it is?”

“If you find the person who stole it, you’ll find the ingredient.” The older man stopped suddenly, and Mark almost ran into him. “I know who took it.”

“Who?”

“That good for nothing coward. He’s been trying to ruin me since I opened shop.” Wayne turned around and headed for the back door. “I’ll teach him not to mess with me.”

Mark jogged to catch up. “Now wait a minute here, you need to let the law handle this.”

Wayne stopped and spun around to face him. “You don’t even know what you're looking for.”

“Because you won't tell me!” His voice raised in frustration. He pulled at the tie around his neck as the older man stared him down. “If you would just tell me what I’m looking for, maybe I could do my job.”

Wayne crossed his arms over his chest. “I already told you. He stole the secret ingredient.”

“Yes, but what is the secret ingredient?”

“You must not have been listening, I can’t tell you what it is. No wonder crime’s so bad in this city, all the cops lost their hearing.”

Mark pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. This was turning out to be the worst-case he could possibly be assigned. “I’ll make a note about what was stolen in the case file and keep you up to date on what we find.” 

Wayne shook his head. “Sure you will. I think I can handle this better on my own.” He pushed the back door open and strode through.

Mark knew he should stop the man, try to reason with him, but he just didn’t have the energy. Besides, the older man was probably right, it was most likely the rival bakery down the street. He stepped outside into the sunshine. Shouting came from his right. A glance down the street revealed two men argued in front of a large brick building with green-tinted windows. A big purple sign overhead declared the name of the bakery to be "De's". He hesitated a minute before turning left and heading for his car. This would be just another case for his unsolved crime pile.