Krispy Kreme Caper

                                                 Krispy Kreme Caper

“Let me tell you about my day,” I said to the police officer as I slumped against the idling patrol car.

“At three A.M. this morning, the hack, hack of my retching cat caused me to leap from my bed.  I skittered across the room, slipped on the foul vomit, and hit my head on the dresser. In the meantime, Fluffy, yowling as if attacked by a horde of zombies, scratched me as I slid through the mess like a deranged figure skater.” I gestured toward my face. “That’s how I sustained these injuries.”

I stared hopefully into his calculating eyes. He wasn’t buying a word of my alibi and radiated as much compassion as a Polar bear at an ice rink.

“Madam, the 911 call from your neighbor.” He glanced at his clipboard to refresh his memory. “Mr. Payson reported that you entered his house and attacked him after he refused to hand over a box of Krispy Krèmes. He further stated a fight ensued, and he hit you with a muffin tin. Then you snatched a Krispy Krème and ran from the house, screaming.  It’s mine, all mine. At that point, he called the police station.”

“Officer, do I look like a woman who sneaks around in the early hours stealing pastries?” I glanced coquettishly through lowered lashes. “I’m innocent, and Mr. Payson is delusional.”

He eyeballed me from head to toe.

I squirmed. My pink rollers, fuzzy yellow bathrobe, and bunny slippers didn’t inspire confidence.

“Why would Mr. Payson make up such a ludicrous story?” His mouth pinched tight as a coin purse.

I crossed my arms over my chest and cleared my throat.

“I dislike gossip, but Mr. Payson has a romantic interest in me.”

He stifled a snort. “Really.”

“Yes, I’ve had to turn him down several times. He imagines himself as an aging Don Juan. This is about revenge. He’s trying to humiliate me.” I glanced towards my neighbor's house. He was pounding on the window, shouting behind the glass.

“As you can see, Officer, he’s out of control. Does he imagine we can hear him?” I shook my head in what I hoped was a sympathetic manner. “The poor old coot. I’m sorry that he’s wasted your time.” I shivered, wrapping my robe tighter. “If you’re done questioning me, I need my beauty sleep.” I smiled my sweetest little old lady smile, patted his hand, and headed toward my house.

Inside, I sat in my favorite recliner, watching the officer pull away. I lifted the Krispy Krème towards the window in a mock salute to my neighbor and then bit into its sugary richness.