For two days, Mabel investigated the only way a six-and-a-half-year-old could safely: through glass. She dragged a chair to her window and watched with Jamie's old binoculars, which smelled like the inside of a backpack. Mr. Higgins came out every evening after dinner and worked until dark, hauling bags of something heavy across the yard, his shovel chinking against rocks in the dirt.
"What are you even looking at?" Jamie asked, not really asking, more just walking past her doorway. "I’m working on a case," Mabel said, without lowering the binoculars. Jamie snorted and kept walking, which Mabel decided meant he was jealous of her superior detective skills.
That was the night she made her decision. Watching through a window was for beginners. Detective Biscuit never solved a single mystery from inside a bathtub. Real detectives went outside, got their knees dirty, and got close enough to see the truth for themselves — even if it meant sneaking past her own squeaky back door after everyone was asleep.