Page 1
Every evening at Boss Biscuit HQ ended the same way.
Flower checked the biscuit jars.
Flower checked the front window.
Flower stood in the doorway with her tiny chest puffed out and made sure everything was exactly as it should be.
Page 2
That was important, because Flower was not just any dog.
Flower was the boss.
Page 3
One quiet evening, just as Flower was getting ready to close up shop, the bell over the door jingled wildly.
In rushed Mr. Wiggles, a nervous little spaniel from three houses down.
“Flower!” he cried. “It’s a disaster! A crunchy, crumbly disaster!”
Page 4
Flower narrowed her eyes.
“How bad?” she asked.
Mr. Wiggles clutched his cheeks.
“My biscuit stash is gone!”
Flower gasped.
Not dramatically.
Professionally.
Page 5
No one stole biscuits on Flower’s watch.
No one.
She hopped down from the counter, lifted her nose, and sniffed the evening air.
There it was.
The smell of peanut butter.
And cheddar.
And trouble.
Page 6
Outside, a trail of crumbs stretched down the sidewalk and toward the park.
Crumb.
Crumb.
Crumb.
Flower followed it all the way to the big oak tree by the gate.
Page 7
Then she heard a sound.
Crunch.
Flower spun around.
Under the tree sat a fluffy white French bulldog with bright eyes, quick paws, and one biscuit between them.
“Aha!” Flower barked. “Caught red-pawed!”
Page 8
The white dog blinked.
“What? No!” he said. “Well... maybe a little. But not for what you think!”
Flower marched closer.
“Those biscuits belong to Mr. Wiggles.”
“I only found this one on the ground,” said the little dog. “I was following the crumbs too.”
Page 9
Flower gave him a long, hard stare.
He looked so hopeful and so worried that she paused.
“Your name?” she asked.
“Marshmallow,” he said.
Flower blinked.
It was an extremely soft name for someone sitting in the middle of a crime scene.
Page 10
“If you’re innocent,” said Flower, “prove it.”
Marshmallow’s ears popped up.
“I can help! I’m very good at noticing things. Also climbing things. And sometimes sneaking.”
“That last part is not comforting,” Flower muttered.
Still, together they searched the park.
Page 11
Then Marshmallow stopped beside a hedge.
“Uh, Flower?” he whispered. “You should see this.”
Behind the hedge was a crumpled paper bag.
Beside it were tiny paw prints.
Not dog prints.
Smaller.
Sneakier.
Flower lowered her nose.
“Raccoon,” she said.
Page 12
At that exact moment, the hedge shook.
Out popped a masked face, two striped paws, and the guiltiest expression Flower had ever seen.
The raccoon grabbed the bag and bolted.
“After him!” Flower barked.
Page 13
Flower charged across the grass.
Marshmallow raced beside her.
The raccoon scrambled up a hill, but the bag was too heavy.
It split open.
Biscuits bounced everywhere.
The raccoon tried to grab too many at once.
That was his mistake.
Page 14
Flower leaped in front of him.
Marshmallow popped up on the other side.
The raccoon looked left.
He looked right.
Then, with a grumpy chit-chit-chit, he dropped the bag and scrambled up a tree.
Flower stood tall.
“Case closed,” she said.
Page 15
Together, Flower and Marshmallow gathered every last biscuit and carried them back to Boss Biscuit HQ.
Mr. Wiggles nearly fainted with relief.
“My stash!” he cried. “You saved it!”
Flower gave a neat little nod.
“Naturally.”
Page 16
Mr. Wiggles looked at the fluffy white dog.
“And who is this?” he asked.
Flower glanced at Marshmallow, who was trying very hard not to look proud.
There was a pause.
Then Flower said, “My assistant.”
Marshmallow’s ears shot up.
“Really?”
Flower sniffed.
“Temporary assistant,” she said. “Do not let it go to your head.”
Page 17
But as the shop grew warm and quiet again, Flower had a feeling.
This would not be Marshmallow’s last case.
Because in a world full of missing snacks, suspicious footprints, and neighborhood mysteries, every boss needs a sidekick.
Even one as bossy as Flower.