Free The Case of the Diamond Dog Collar by Martha Freeman Page B

must’ve been super busy. “Did you get what you need?”
    â€œI think so,” I said. “It was really nice of you to help us. Thanks.”
    â€œNo problem,” she said. “Would you like me to e-mail you the links? Then you can watch the stories on your own if you want to.”
    â€œE-mail them to me,” Nate said. “I’m the only one with a computer in my room.”
    Tessa said, “Must be
nice
,” and stuck out her tongue when he wasn’t looking.
    Nobody talked as we left the West Wing. Malik was concentrating on finding a route out of the maze. Nate, Tessa and I were putting together what the video had told us. We now knew for sure that Hooligan himself had disappeared for a few minutes. And so had Mr. Bryant. Did the diamond just fall off the collar? Or did somebody take it?
    Tessa said we should flat out ask Mr. Bryant.
    Nate said that was crazy. “If he took it, he’ll lie and say he didn’t. If he didn’t, he’ll be mad we accused him.”
    â€œHe might confess,” Tessa said.
    â€œLame,” Nate said.
    â€œMaybe we need a break,” I said.
    Nate said fine. He was going to find Jeremy and shoot some hoops.
    Tessa said, “I know—how ’bout if we dress Hooligan up in outfits and take pictures?”
    This was not my first-choice idea. But I knew if I said no, she’d want to play Barbies—and that’s worse.
    We found Mr. Bryant and Hooligan in the West Sitting Hall.
    â€œBe my guest,” Mr. Bryant told us. “But you must promise to keep him under control. I’ll just get myself a cup of coffee and check back.”
    Hooligan absolutely refused to step into Tessa’s flamingo rain boots. But he didn’t seem to mind the pink kimono, or the plastic pearls.
    â€œPretty puppy!” said Tessa, clicking the camera in his face.
    â€œHe’s totally embarrassed,” I said.
    â€œHe likes it!” Tessa said. “Hey, we can send these pictures to the Empress Pu-Chi! She of all dogs would appreciate them.”
    â€œWe can put them in with the thank-you note,” I said.
    Tessa shook her head. “I’m pretty sure—and Aunt Jen will back me up—that when the gift’s been stolen, you don’t have to write a thank-you note.”
    â€œReally? High five!” I guess it’s true there’s always a bright side.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

    MOM had to eat dinner with her advisers in the Oval Office. At bedtime, Dad came in to give us our kisses. Nothing against Dad, but I was really missing my mom.
    The next morning, I woke up even before Granny came in. So did Tessa. “I’ve got a really good name for the canary,” she announced.
    Oh, fine. My mom’s gone AWOL. Bad guys are threatening. Diamonds are missing. And my sister’s all happy because she’s got a name for the canary! Was this supposed to brighten my day?
    When we got to the kitchen, Nate was already there. And so was Ms. Kootoor. I guess one thing about getting up early is you get used to getting up early.
    â€œThis is your moment, Tessa,” I said. “What’s the ‘really good’ name?”
    â€œGhanamamma!” she cried.
    I had been expecting to hate it, but instead I cracked up—Nate, too. Then we heard a thump. Ms. Kootoor had been standing by the breakfast table. When I turned, Isaw she had dropped her Blueberry Bag—
thump
—to the floor. Her face looked whiter than usual, too.
    â€œAre you okay?” Granny asked.
    Ms. Kootoor smiled weakly. “Got out of bed too fast, I guess. Uh . . . what was that name, Tessa?”
    â€œGhanamamma. It’s the name of somebody—” Tessa didn’t finish her sentence. I guess she suddenly remembered how we weren’t going to advertise that we’d phoned a certain nearby nation.
    â€œSomebody?” Ms. Kootoor prompted.
    â€œA singer my dad used to