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"Okay, if you can get Don to let us, I'll go out there with you." Cindy said.

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"Ah, there's the lake." said Phyllis as they drove into the subdivision. "Such a difficult time they've had."

The Lakeview community was a gated subdivision to the north of Town, farther north than other super-rich gated communities. They developers had wanted to dam the River to create a lake, but that would've flooded the entire Fire Academy Range, the Water Works, and other buildings and farms, so the Town & County Council put the kibosh on it.

Instead, the developers had to tap an underground spring, then build an outflow to the River. The lake looked nice, but was not the huge development they'd wanted; they had wanted something to rival the Big Reservoir between the County and Nextdoor County, where the Police Chief lived on one side and the Riordans on the other, amongst others.

"Yes." said Cindy. "And after the economy took a downturn, the development hasn't sold nearly as well as they'd hoped. It's only a third full, and that's just Phase I of the construction."

"Ah, you seem to know something about it." Phyllis said.

"I was considering investing in two lots in the Phase II area, and building two houses for re-sale or rent." Cindy said. "But they didn't even start that phase yet. So, do you want to visit the Jones house or the Smith house? They're close together, and both houses' backyards are on the lake."

"Let's visit the Jones home first. The crime that occurred this morning." said Phyllis. Cindy drove to the location. Upon their knock on the door, a handsome woman in her late 40s or early 50s answered the door, and admitted them. She was Mrs. Jones. As they were seated in the living room, Mr. Jones came in. He was in his upper 50s, tall and spry, with glasses and wild hair that seemed to jut out in places. His graying beard also seemed to jut forward, creating the impression that he was jabbing at you as he talked.

Cindy introduced herself and Phyllis, then said "We're following up on the break-in. Our officers were here this morning."

"Yes, they were." said Mr. Jones. "As I told them, the burglars apparently came through the back door into my study. They took the darndest group of things imaginable."

"May we see your study?" Phyllis asked. They were led by Mr. Jones to the room that was the scene of the crime. Mrs. Jones did not follow them.

Papers were strewn about the desk and on the floor, some books thrown out of the bookshelves on the side wall. "Not much was taken." said Mr. Jones, pointing at the bay window. A clean spot could be seen on the window shelf where something had been. "There was a statue there, of one of the gods holding what looked like a half-globe. When the sunlight hit it, it cast a funny shadow, and could be used as a sundial of sorts. There was also a globe on my desk that was taken, as well as the stapler and a clock that sat on the desk. They took a deck of cards that was in the drawer, that I played Solitaire with. My computer is gone, but they left the copier there, and left the TV and radio in this room. They didn't take any TVs around the house, either."

"How very odd!" said Phyllis, her eyes darting all around. "So nothing of value taken?"

"The computer, and some of our silver plate was out." said Mr. Jones. "My wife was polishing it in anticipation of a party I was planning to throw. They got all of that."

"So was the plate insured?" Phyllis asked.

"Fortunately, yes." said Mr. Jones. "The computer was, also."

"Who are your insurers?" asked Phyllis.

"State Farm." said Mr. Jones. "Mr. Tennison is my agent."

"Were any papers stolen? Any important documents?" Cindy asked.

"No... well, not that I can tell." said Mr. Jones. "They certainly made a mess of things, and I haven't gotten everything back in order. But my most valuable papers are upstairs, in the gun safe. And that also reminds me, they didn't even try to get in the safe. There are some antique guns in there that might be worth something, but the safe wasn't bothered."

"So, they came in through these Fr

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