Emily took the kindergartner by the hand, beckoned to the older sisters, and ducked out of sight.

"Don't wanna go in the back," one whined. "Don't know that old lady. And I wanna see what the bad guy's doing."

"Scoot. Now!" Ginny's voice rang through the bakery.

"Mo-o-om!" the same child protested.

"Ada, come on," another voice ordered.

"You're not my mom!"

"I'm older than you."

"By ten minutes! You're not my boss. Besides, I never got my cookie."

"Ada!" Ginny's voice snapped. "Move. Now."

The twins lurched through the partition into the back room, one of them obviously propelled by her mother.

The bell tinkled. Ginny hadn't gotten back to the door in time to lock it.

"Where's the telephone?" Emily whispered to the twins.

"Out on the front counter," answered the responsible one. The other just scowled and sulked.

"We're closed," Ginny said.

"Sign says you're open," growled a deep gritty voice. "You got donuts? I want a jelly one."

"Look. Bare shelf. I haven't gotten started on the afternoon batch."

"Hah! I smell 'em frying."

"That's snickerdoodles baking. Come back in an hour."

Emily glanced at the ovens just as a timer chimed. Cookies, done.

"Nope. I smell donuts. Let me in."

The air over the donut vats quivered with heat. Balls of floury donut dough sat on a raising tray to the side.

"Out now. Please. Won't be any donuts if you don't let me close this door. Move your foot."

"Nuh-uh. I'm comin' in. Got questions for ya. Ya know 'bout an old woman who can find anythin' that's lost?"

"Out!"

The sulky twin, looking angry now, tried to head back to the front.

Emily grabbed her arm.

"Leggo! Gotta help my mom!"

"How?" Emily hissed.

Ada looked all around, grinned like a cartoon cat, wrenched her arm free and grabbed up two donut doughballs. She dashed back through the partition archway.

"No!" Emily hissed.

The other twin followed suit with two more doughballs. The kindergartner could barely reach the tray, but got her hands on one.

Emily trailed after, snatching in vain at one child then another. She came through the arch just in time to see both twins hurling their floury snowballs, smacking the "bad guy" in the face where he stood half through the door.

He yelped and took a step back, blinded with flour, just as the kindergartner's ball splatted his groin. "What the—"

Ginny shoved the door shut and locked it. Drew the shade down with a snap. Gathered her children in a ferocious hug. "Best softball team on the block!" Sprang up and leaped to the counter where she dialed zero for the operator. "Police! Emergency!"

The burly "bad guy" pounded on the door, but the lock held.

The kids dashed to the display window and made faces at him, fingers splayed from their temples or pulling at lips.

Emily shuddered. Why would some Chicago-gangster type be wanting her?

At the scent of crisping cookies she returned to the back room to rescue the snickerdoodles.

.

prompt word: "smell"