Free Framed by Gordon Korman Page A

the final surveillance device Melissa had provided — a wireless microphone on a long, thin rope. She tied the end of the tether to the steel mesh of the chimney cap and lowered the unit down the shaft. If Melissa’s calculations were right — and the shy girl wasnever wrong — the microphone should hang in the fireplace, just out of sight. From there, it would pick up most of what was being said in the entire house.
    Her face twisted.
Bad enough we have to listen to the guy all day in school; now we have to hear him singing in the shower!
    But of course it was worth it — for Griffin.
    For the first time, she noticed it was raining a little — tiny cold drops. It would be a good idea to get off this roof before the shingles became wet and slippery. Gingerly, she started toward the eaves.
    And froze.
    There, hurrying up the street, were the Egans, coming home early because of the rain. And not a peep of warning from Ben Slovak, the lookout.
    She was trapped on the roof!

13
    P itch ducked back behind the chimney. “Ben!” she hissed into the walkie-talkie. A soft snore was her reply. “Ferret Face, what are you doing? Your man’s sleeping on the job!”
    In the wood box, Ben awoke with a start. “What? What?”
    “Shhh, you idiot! Egan’s coming up the front walk!”
    Ben looked around, desperately trying to reacquire his bearings. Beside him, Ferret Face was chasing a grasshopper around a big log. No wonder he’d fallen asleep, with the animal bug-hunting instead of keeping him awake. He grabbed the ferret and stuck him back inside his shirt.
    His mind raced.
Should I make a run for it?
    The first footfall hit the porch.
    Too late!
    There wasn’t even time to remove the chip propping open the wood box. If Dr. Evil looked over and wondered why the lid was slightly ajar …
    Ben hugged his ferret to his chest and prayed for invisibility.
    The daughter passed by — blond hair, turned-up nose.
    She has freckles — you can’t see them from a distance….
    “Let’s go, Lindsay,” came the mother’s voice. “Leave your scooter where it won’t get wet.”
    Her name is Lindsay….
    A split second later, all rational thought was paralyzed. The narrow strip that was his field of vision was filled with Dr. Evil. The principal passed so close that Ben could practically count the man’s nose hairs.
    Don’t see me…. Don’t see me…. Don’t see me….
    Ben hunkered down, not even daring to breathe. The next thing he heard was the front door closing. The family was gone from the porch.
    In the command center in Savannah’s attic, Melissa clicked her mouse, and the voices of the Egans came through one of the laptops.
    “Pitch, you did it!” Savannah breathed into her walkie-talkie. “The fireplace mike is getting everything!”
    “Never mind that!” rasped Ben from his hiding place. “When can we get out of here?”
    “I’m not hanging around,” Pitch said with conviction.
    But as she started for the eaves, the microphone picked up Mrs. Egan’s worried exclamation: “What’s that noise? It sounds like an animal on the roof!”
    “Pitch — freeze!” ordered Savannah.
    “Probably just a twig falling down,” the principal assured his wife. “I think the wind was picking up.”
    “It sounded like footsteps,” she protested.
    “I’ll get a flashlight.”
    The stakeout team was prepared. “Get ready for audio cover,” Savannah said into the walkie-talkie. Logan popped the window, and she guided Luthor’s massive head out into the night. “Okay, sweetie, let her rip.”
    A 747 could not have created more noise. Luthor’s thundering bark filled the neighborhood, rattling windows and sending smaller pets scurrying.
    Pitch came off the roof, flew down the tree trunk, and hit the ground running. At that, she was several steps behind Ben, who exploded out of the wood box as if propelled by a catapult. They flashed across the street and flew up the Drysdales’ stairs to the attic.
    Savannah was