I was caught red-handed—or in my case, red-footed!

I had sneaked into a suspect's house to search for evidence in a case I was working on. His burglar alarm system was better than I anticipated!

He and an assistant searched me. They took my gun and my cellphone. Then they brought me into a room. It was bare except for a couch.

"What do we do with you?" said Frank Bails. He was the man who's house I entered.

"Whatever you want, I presume!"

He chuckled. "You know, I like you, Barefoot Jenny; you've got guts. I'll let you live—for now, at least!

"It so happens I have an errand to run; I'm late as it is. So I'll leave you in this room, for a while. And as you can see, there's a window you can escape from. And I won't even tie you up, how about that!"

"You're too kind!"

"Not quite! Take off your socks, please."

I was shoeless, but wore nylon socks, my usual "footwear" on jobs. I took them off and gave them to him.

"Good. You'd better sit on the sofa."

I did this.

His assistant took out a cell phone and made a call. "Ready, Dave!. . . Good."

A third man came in the room with a large bag. It contained various pieces of glass—bottles, jars, goblets, etc. They began smashing them on the concrete floor, while Frank held his gun at me. When a piece didn't break completely, they would pick it up and throw it down again. Eventually, the whole floor was strewn with piece of glass. I had to put my legs on the couch! (The guys wore boots, including Frank.)

"You wouldn't want your pretty feet marred, would you? And neither would I! Now, I will be back in an hour, or so. When I return, I'll interrogate you. Maybe I'll even let you go, if you're a good girl! See you later, Jenny."

They left and locked the room from the outside.

It was then that I got to work!

You see, I've learned a few tricks, over the years. One of them is how to walk barefooted on glass. A carny woman taught it to me.

So, I got up and began walking across the room. It took m less than five minutes to make it to the window.

Opening it was the next problem. The lock was pretty secure, so I ended up using my arms to break the glass. Fortunately, it was a garden variety glass, not an indestructible one. It broke, and I got through.

And even more fortunately, the window was in the front of the house—and my car was nearby! I got in and drove off. I went to my office and called the cops.

I was there when they arrested Frank.

"How did you escape?" he asked.

"I have tough feet!" I slipped my shoe off and wiggled my toes at him. "Actually, I know the secret to walking on glass."

He chuckled. "You're good, Barefoot Jenny!"

They busted him on various gun and drug charges, and he's now in jail.

At Lt. Kirschenbaum's insistence, I had my feet checked out. The doctor was just as amazed as Frank was!