Free Eleven and Holding by Mary Penney Page A

don’t know!”
    â€œI bit the part that he hadn’t touched. Besides, he’s a cop—not really a stranger or anything. In Vietnam, people aren’t as wasteful with food.”
    â€œThis is Constant, Colorado. Nice children don’t eat off other people’s plates.”
    â€œExcuse me , Miss Vanderbilt.” She got up and swiped crumbs off her pants. “In Vietnam, nice children don’t lie to cops.”
    As far as I was concerned, there was no better smell in the whole world than a library. Even better thana German chocolate cake right out of the oven, and that was saying something. I ran my hands over the polished wood of the old table in my favorite corner. Libraries were like churches for books. When Jack gets older, I was going to bring him here and show him all my favorites. I tried to bring him a few months back, but he had just learned how to make kitty noises, and wouldn’t stop mewing. The librarian kept shushing him with a stern look, and I didn’t want him to grow up hating librarians or anything. They were really cool. Once you got to know them.
    Twee was buried somewhere on the second floor in the travel section, planning her trip to Vietnam. I wanted to use the computer here to check car detailers that paint business signs. But I also wanted to check out if there were any local bean companies. My mom was too nosy for me to risk doing any of this at home. Not that she would care if I was researching a potential dognapper. But I didn’t need her in any of my business right now.
    I needed some quiet time to think, too. I felt like I was at the carnival riding the Scrambler without any safety bar. It was already Tuesday, and I was just hours away from my trip to Los Robles. It wasn’t as if I would be able to find my dad the minute I got there.And I still had to come up with a convincing cover for Twee about what I was doing tomorrow. I also needed a good story to tell my mom about what I was doing. And then I had to make sure Twee knew what that story was, so she could back me up with Mom.
    I wrote Switch’s name out on a small piece of recycled scratch paper that the library put by the computers. I drew a tiny skateboard under his name, spending more time on it than I had to waste. He was on my mind, though. I wanted to leave him a note in the jet to lead him off track. I didn’t want him solving this before we did. Now that Twee had talked me into doing this with her, I was determined to find this dog and earn the reward money. It was the least I could do for Twee. Not every girl was as lucky as I was to have a world-class best friend.
    But first things first. I had a family who was circling the drain. I needed to find Dad. I unzipped my backpack and pulled out the letter he sent me. I studied the return address. It read:
    Montgomery Hollinquest
    c/o DVA
    1716 Sixth Avenue
    Los Robles, Colorado 80904
    After I had first gotten the letter, I’d asked Mom casual-like what “DVA” stood for, and she said she thought it was one of the scary ingredients in hot dogs. That couldn’t be right. I doubted that the Department of Defense had hired my dad to work on hot dogs.
    I had waited a couple of days and asked her what “c/o” meant, and Mom said it means that the address is not someone’s personal address, but where they get their mail. Which meant he may or may not be there if I went. But if I went in person, at least there was a chance that he’d be there. But if he wasn’t, I could at least nose around, and maybe I’d find out where he was.
    In my life as a kid, I have discovered that grown-ups will never tell you anything over the phone. Once they hear your kid voice, forget it. But I’ve also discovered that in person, grown-ups will do just about anything for a kid. It’s funny how that works. So, I had to go in person. There was no other way to get the job done. But I had a feeling this was going to