Free Sammy Keyes and the Hotel Thief by Wendelin Van Draanen

Heavenly, please let us know.” He turns to Officer Borsch. “I think we’re done here.”
    Officer Borsch frowns and nods, and they start down the hall. And I guess with all their leather gear creaking and their equipment jingling they can’t hear Mikey, sounding like he’s under ten feet of water, screaming, “Let me out! Let me out!” I cough and excuse myself and cough some more, trying to cover up Mikey’s voice, and the minute they’re outside I race over to Marissa.
    Marissa’s got Mikey locked up in a closet and she’s leaning on it with all her might. She sees me and says, “Oh, thank God!”
    I pop the closet door open and look at Mikey like I’m going to kill him. He tries to charge past me but I grab him by the shirt. “Listen up, Mikey! If you tell
anyone
about this, Marissa’s going to tell your mom and dad how you ditched school today and how you’ve been spending all your allowance on candy bars. If you keep your mouth shut, then so will we. Think about it, Mike. If your parents find out where you were today and what you’ve been doing with your allowance, you know what they’ll do? They’ll ground you for a
month
, that’s what they’ll do, and they’ll take away your allowance. You got it? That means no more Fancy Fudge, no more candy bars, and no more Double Dynamos. They won’t let you have anything but broccoli and fish. You hear what I’m saying? Broccoli and fish!”
    He looks to Marissa for help, but she jumps right in. “I hope you do tell! Do you really think Mom and Dad are going to care that Sammy said she lived here? I don’t even know why I’m making this deal with you. You’re the one that’s in hot water, ditching school like you did.”
    â€œOkay, okay! I won’t tell!”
    Marissa says, “Swear?” like she’s a little surprised.
    Mikey says, “Swear,” and you can tell—for once he really means it.
    Now what I should’ve done was start walking back home right then and there. What I did instead was walk straight to the refrigerator when Marissa offered me some orange juice. Grams was the furthest thing from my mind.
    And then, of course, I had to explain everything. I told Marissa about Officer Borsch grilling me at the Heavenly, and when she found out I’d actually been
inside
the hotel she said, “Cool!” and wanted to know all about it.
    So I told her about the pope-hat chairs and the guy with the cigar, and pretty soon we’re talking about Gina and her crazy hairdo. And of course crazy hair makes us think about Heather Acosta, and all of a sudden Marissa says, “Say...maybe Gina is Heather’s mother!”
    Well, that makes me bust up so much I can’t help it—I spray orange juice everywhere.
    Now if I’d made it to the part about Mrs. Graybill and the note under her door, I’d’ve thought about Grams. And I’d’ve jumped right up and called her. Trouble is, we got so sidetracked making jokes about Heather being Madame Nashira’s daughter that I completely forgot Grams was home worrying.
    And when the phone rang, I still wasn’t thinking about her—I was busting up at Marissa talking in a Texas accent, saying that if Gina was Heather’s mom, then maybe they’re both “hair from outer space.”
    Marissa answers the phone and she’s laughing so hard she can barely say hello. And when she finds out it’s Grams, she keeps right on laughing and just hands over the phone.
    Well, of course I’m not thinking about anything but alien hairdos, so when I take the phone and put it up to my ear, I’m still laughing. Until I hear Grams’ voice. Then all of a sudden I don’t feel like laughing at all.
    She says, “I take it the emergency’s over.”
    â€œGrams—I’m sorry! I was going to—”
    â€œDon’t