Free Judy Moody, Girl Detective by Megan McDonald Page A

going to solve a mystery. A real-life, Nancy-Drew, scare-your-pants-off mystery. For sure and absolute positive.”
    “What’s the mystery?”
    “I don’t know yet. I have to find one first.”
    “Do you have to go to France to find it?”
    “Stink, you don’t have to leave the country to find a mystery. There could be one right in your own backyard.”
    Stink looked out the window into the yard. “All I see out there is your purple jump rope, a pink-and-white soccer ball, your bike with the flat tire, and the blue tent we use for the Toad Pee Club. The only mystery is why Mom and Dad don’t make you pick up your stuff.”
    “Ha, ha. Very funny. A mystery is out there, Stink. Maybe not in the backyard exactly. But it could be right under our noses. All we have to do is pay attention.”
    Just like that, she, Judy Moody, went looking for a mystery.

If a person were going to solve a big fat mystery, she had to have a way-official Nancy Drew detective kit.
    Flashlight? Check.
    Notebook? Check.
    Grouchy pencil? Check.
    Pocket magnifying glass? Check.
    Duck tape? Check.
    Zip-top bag? Check.
    “Let’s see,” Judy said out loud to herself. “All I need now is a disguise, some money, and a French dictionary.”
    She went into the upstairs bathroom and came back with Mom’s makeup bag. Judy pulled out a tube of red lipstick, a compact, an eyebrow pencil, nail polish, tweezers, and a bobby pin.
    “Ooh, cool,” said Stink, coming into her room. “Is all this stuff for a disguise?”
    “Stink, don’t you know anything about detective work? Everybody knows lipstick is for writing SOS messages.”
    “Oh, I get it. Like if something exploded and your leg is pinned under a piece of metal, and you go to yell ‘help’ in French, but you lost your French dictionary, you write
SOS
in red lipstick or something?”
    “Or something,” said Judy. “Lipstick is good for fake blood, too. Like one time, Nancy Drew smeared lipstick and pretended she was bleeding to trick the bad guys so she could escape. There are tons of bad guys, like Snorky, Stumpy, Sniggs, and Grumper.”
    Stink snorted. “They sound like dwarves, not bad guys.”
    “And in
The Phantom of Pine Hill,
there’s an evil fortune-teller named Madame Tarantella.”
    “Madame Tarantula. Cool. Can I try writing in lipstick?” Stink asked.
    “It’s only for emergencies, Stink,” said Judy.
    “What about all that other junk?” Stink asked.
    “The powder in the compact can be used to dust for fingerprints, and the little mirror is for spying on somebody. The eyebrow pencil is for this.” Judy drew a quick mustache on Stink.
    “Hey!” said Stink, but instead of wiping his lip, he looked in the mirror.
    Judy held up a little black metal hair clip. “Rule Number One: Never leave home without a bobby pin.”
    “What’s a bobby pin?” Stink asked.
    “This baby is for picking locks.”
    “Can I try?”
    “Knock yourself out,” Judy said, handing him a bobby pin. Judy loaded all the detective stuff into her backpack.
    Stink picked up Judy’s secret diary, stuck the bobby pin in the keyhole, and turned it. The diary popped open.

    “Sweet!” said Stink. “It really works.”
    Judy looked up. “Give it!” she said, grabbing the diary back.
    “You sure Nancy Drew doesn’t have a little brother? Little brothers make good detectives, too.”
    “I’m sure. Just a dad named Mr. Drew; her two best chums, George and Bess; her dog, Togo; her cat, Snowball; and a shiny blue, way-cool convertible!”
    “Nancy Drew is old enough to drive a real car?”
    “Tell me about it. Who wouldn’t want to ride around in a convertible solving mysteries all day?” Judy said. “Makeup? Check. There. I’m done!”

    “What about the money? Where’s the money? You forgot the money!”
    “N-no, I didn’t.”
    Stink peered into Judy’s backpack and pulled out a plastic bag full of coins. “Not my state quarters. And my president dollars! I collected these