The Case of the Rock 'n' Roll Dog by Martha Freeman Read Free Book Online

bench.“And I could have sworn the cloth was with it. Where did it go?”
    â€œWe’ll help you look,” Tessa said. And we did—we even opened up the bench.
    No cloth. But underneath the piano, I found another pile of petals.
    â€œThis one used to be a daffodil,” I said.
    Tessa took it and looked up at me. “I’m getting a bad feeling,” she said.
    Have I mentioned Hooligan loves flowers?
    Mrs. Hedges sat down on the piano bench. “Go ahead with your questions, girls. Then I’ll get a new cloth from supplies.”
    Tessa asked again about anyone suspicious. This time Mrs. Hedges listened, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she said, “I don’t think you’re doing this right.”
    In my family, Mom and I are the patient ones. Tessa is more like Aunt Jen and Granny. Now she was getting exasperated. “We’re doing exactly what Granny told us!”
    â€œThat’s as may be,” said Mrs. Hedges. “But what you
ought
to ask me is if I’ve seen anything strange since Tuesday. I read a lot of mystery books, so I know.”
    â€œ
Fine
,” Tessa said. “Have you seen anything strange since Tuesday?”
    Mrs. Hedges thought for a minute. “Well, it’s strange that my polishing cloth is missing. Don’t you think?”
    When Mrs. Hedges had gone, Tessa went drama. “
She was no help!
”
    â€œWe don’t know for sure till we look at the notes,” I said, “but it’s true, asking questions is harder than I thought. Let’s see who’s in the dining room.”
    There are two dining rooms on the state floor of the White House: the State Dining Room, which is on the west side, and a smaller one next to it. That was where we found Mr. Patel and Mr. Kane setting up for the night’s dinner.
    â€œ
Buona sera, bambine
,” said Mr. Kane. “That means, ‘Good evening, children.’ Your mom has invited some very important mayors to eat with her a very Italian supper.”
    Mr. Kane is medium old with a round face and floppy hair. Mr. Patel is kind of young and really handsome. Aunt Jen says he has a million-megawatt smile. Now he was setting out baskets of breadsticks on tables laid with checkered tablecloths.
    I thought of what Mr. Bryant had said—a place to hide something long and skinny. How about a basket of breadsticks?
    â€œWhere did the breadsticks come from?” I asked Mr. Kane.
    â€œMade them myself this morning,” he said.
    So much for that idea. The baton went missing Tuesday.
    â€œWould you care for a sample?” Mr. Kane asked us.
    Tessa and I were feeling cookie-deprived. “Yes!” we answered at the same time.
    The breadsticks were delicious. Done chewing, I opened my notebook and waited for Tessa to explainabout detecting—only she didn’t. When I looked over, she was grinning stupidly at Mr. Patel.
    Oh, brother
. Tessa is only seven. Normal kids don’t get crushes till they’re nine at least.
    â€œTessa!” I hissed.
    â€œWhat? Oh! Sorry—Mr. Patel, have you ever seen any stupid batons running around suspiciously lately?”
    â€œExcuse me?” asked Mr. Patel.
    I rolled my eyes. Tessa’s brain was clearly scrambled. I would have to do the talking.
    â€œDid I see anything strange on Tuesday?” Mr. Patel repeated my question. “Only your X-treme dog.”
    â€œSame goes for me,” said Mr. Kane. “And as for stolen, all that’s missing around here are cookies from a tray.”
    I looked up from writing. “Really?”
    Mr. Kane shrugged. “But I don’t see what that has to do with Colonel Michaels’s baton.”
    â€œI don’t either,” I said. “It’s only that a lot of stuff is missing lately.”
    Mr. Kane looked at his watch. “The mayors are due at six, girls. Do you have more questions?”
    â€œThat’s all for now,” I said.