"I'm very busy," Elaine said when she answered the door.

Diesel brushed past her, into the house. "It smells like you're still baking cookies."

Elaine followed Diesel into the kitchen, half running to keep up with Diesel's stride. "Pecan shortbread for tomorrow," she said. "And big cookies with M&Ms in them."

"I'm curious," Diesel said. "Who eats all these cookies?"

"The elves, of course."

Diesel and I exchanged glances.

"They're not really elves," Elaine said. "Sandy just likes to call them that. His little elves. Sandy is so clever. He has a whole scheme worked out to sell toys. It's because of his name, Sandy Claws. Have you noticed how it sounds like Santa Claus?"

"How many elves are you feeding?" Diesel asked Elaine.

"Goodness, I don't know, but there must be a lot of them. I make dozens of cookies every day."

"And they go where?"

"I don't know, exactly. Lester stops around and picks them up. Lester is Sandy's production manager."

"About five-foot-ten? Gray hair, slim, dark-rimmed glasses?" Diesel asked.

"Yes. That's him," Elaine said.

The guy who was interviewing elves.

"I don't mean to be rude," Elaine said, "but you're going to have to leave now. I have to finish my baking."

"You don't mind if I look around, do you?" Diesel asked.

Elaine nervously picked at her apron. "I don't see why you would want to do that. Sandy isn't here."

Diesel opened the door to a small downstairs powder room and looked inside. "Are you sure you don't know where Sandy is?"

"Stop that!" Elaine said. "Stop snooping in my house. I'm going to call the police."

"We have a legal right to search this house," Diesel said. "Isn't that right, Steph?"

"Yep. We received that right when your brother signed his bond agreement."

"This whole thing is so silly," Elaine said. "All over a couple power tools and some paint. And Sandy wouldn't have had to steal anything if the store had been open. You can't stop a whole production line just because you run out of Morning Glory paint. And everyone knows elves work at night. My goodness, Sandy has enough labor problems without having a whole crew sit out until the stores open at nine A.M."

"I thought they weren't actually elves."

"Real elves, fake elves... what's the difference? They all get time and a half after five o'clock."

Diesel leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest. "When was the last time you talked to Sandy?"

"He called me at lunchtime." Elaine pressed her lips together.

"Did you tell him I was looking for him?"

"Yes." Elaine glanced at me and then looked back at Diesel. "I've been trying to be discreet in front of Ms. Plum."

"Too late for that," Diesel said. "I was dropped into her kitchen."

Elaine looked horrified. "How did that happen?"