🕵️‍♂️ Frankie Sinatro, P.I. S1 Ep 3: The Case of the Vanishing YarnWhisker Winks Press | Monday Mystery Series

Marites Cervantes
Nov 3, 2025
3 min read

Updated: Jan 4

Previously on Frankie Sinatro, P.I.: The private investigator found more than a clue last time — he found a porch, a family, and maybe even a forever home. But a detective’s work is never done…

The morning started with a breeze — the kind that flips fallen leaves and trouble at the same time.

I was lounging by the porch window, half-watching the neighborhood, half-dreaming about breakfast number two, when Mrs. Smart’s voice cut through the calm.

“Oh no! Where’s my red yarn ball?”

That got my ears perked. Yarn ball cases have a way of unraveling fast.

From the patio, Billie was stretching in the sun.

“You probably dropped it, Mrs. Smart," she said in that calm, sweet tone that could soothe a thunderstorm.

Oreo, sprawled dramatically across a chair, flicked his tail.

“Dropped it? Please. That yarn had personality. No one just drops a ball like that.”

I stepped out, straightened my imaginary tie, and squinted toward the yard.

“Alright,” I said, “who saw it last?”

Mrs. Smart pointed toward the porch steps.

“I was knitting last night… had it right here before dinner. Now it’s gone.”

A real vanishing act. No loose ends — literally.

I started scanning the scene. Yarn fibers caught on a flowerpot edge. A suspicious feather on the railing. And a faint trail leading toward the fence.

Billie followed me.

“Think it’s the wind?”

“Wind doesn’t leave feathers,” I muttered.

Oreo gasped.

“The crows! I knew it! They’re running a black-market craft ring!”

Billie rolled her eyes.

“You’ve been watching too many human shows.”

But Oreo wasn’t wrong — up in the oak tree, something sparkled red among the branches.

I climbed the fence and squinted. Sure enough — the missing yarn, woven neatly into a crow’s nest like a designer decoration.

I sighed. “Case cracked.”

Mrs. Smart came out just in time to see me pointing my paw skyward. She laughed softly.

“Guess the crows have an eye for color.”

“Or crime,” Oreo added under his breath.

Later that evening, the neighborhood was quiet again. The crows had agreed to “donate” a few inches of yarn back (after Mrs. Smart offered peanuts as payment). Justice, as always, required snacks.

That night, as the air turned cool, Mr. Smart came outside with his tool kit.

“Can’t have my porch detectives freezing,”he said, installing a little patio heater.

He turned to us.

“You three strays — you warm enough out here?”

Billie smiled.

“We’re fine, sir. We like the night.”

Oreo stretched.

“The moon keeps us company.”

Nacho chirped,

“And the stars!”

Then Mrs. Smart looked at me.

“And you, Frankie?”

I hesitated, glancing through the window at the soft light glowing inside.

“I’ll take the window seat,” I said. “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on my friends.”

She smiled knowingly.

“Good choice, detective.”

And just like that, the night felt warmer.The yarn was found, the porch was peaceful, and for one tuxedo cat with a suitcase full of stories —the case was, once again… closed. 🕵️‍♂️❤️

Stay tuned next Monday — same time, same cat channel.📚 Read all episodes at whiskerwinkspress.com💛 Follow the mystery trail on Facebook: Whisker Winks Press