The Case of the Diamond Dog Collar

MARTHA FREEMAN

Text copyright © 2011 by Martha Freeman

Map copyright © 2011 by Jeffrey Ward

All Rights Reserved

HOLIDAY HOUSE is registered in the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office.

www.holidayhouse.com

ISBN 978-0-8234-2887-8 (ebook)w

ISBN 978-0-8234-2888-5 (ebook)r

Art in Chapter Eleven by Clement Goodman

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Freeman, Martha, 1956-

The case of the diamond dog collar / Martha Freeman. — 1st ed.

p. cm. — (A first kids mystery ; 2)

Summary: Seven-year-old Tessa and ten-year-old Cammie, the first female president's daughters, investigate when a diamond goes missing from the collar of their very rambunctious dog.

ISBN 978-0-8234-2337-8 (hardcover)

1. White House (Washington, D.C.)—Juvenile fiction.   [1. White House (Washington, D.C.)—Fiction.   2. Presidents—Family— Fiction.   3. Sisters—Fiction.   4. Dogs—Fiction.   5. Lost and found possessions—Fiction.   6. Washington (D.C.)—Fiction.   7. Mystery and detective stories.]   I. Title.

PZ7.F87496Cas 2010

[Fic]—dc22

2011005019

ISBN 978-0-8234-2642-3 (paperback)

For my mother,
Barbara Parks Freeman

MY sister, Tessa, ran into our bedroom yelling: “One of the big, fat diamonds is missing!”

I didn't look up.

Tessa waved her arms to get my attention. “I'm serious, Cammie!”

There are not that many big, fat diamonds in my life, so most likely Tessa was talking about one from our dog's new collar. It had come the day before yesterday, a present from Empress Pu-Chi. She's not a real empress, she's a dog, and she belongs to the president of a nearby nation.

I sighed and closed my book. “They're big, fat,
fake
diamonds, Tessa.”

“I know, I know, I know,” Tessa said. “But anyway, one of 'em's missing, and you gotta come see.”

Have I mentioned my sister is a drama queen?

Still, when she grabbed my arm, I went with her. I didn't have anything better to do. It was Friday afternoon, the start of our March break. Right about now
my family was supposed to be on Air Force One flying to California. Only at the last minute, my mom was too busy working on the energy bill to leave Washington.

We didn't want to go to California without Mom.

Since January, when she got to be president of the United States, Tessa and I don't get to see her that much.

Tessa pulled me out the bedroom door and headed for the West Sitting Hall, which is kind of like our living room. Our dog, Hooligan, was there, dozing in his old bed. I was surprised to see him. Usually about now Mr. Bryant would be taking him for his afternoon walk on the South Lawn.

Tessa let go of me and ran over to Hooligan. “Look!” She pointed at the collar, which was bright red, with twelve big, fat, fake diamonds all around it.

Make that eleven.

Hooligan must've heard us because he stretched his paws and opened one eye.

“We should find that missing diamond, Cammie,” Tessa said. “It looked real to me. I bet the letter's wrong.”

Tessa meant the letter that came with the present. Here is what it said:

Greetings to Hooligan, Esteemed Dog of the First Children of the United States of America
,

On behalf of my master, President Manfred Alfredo-Chin, democratically elected leader of a certain nation nearby to your own, I am pleased
to offer you the gift of this canine accessory. Please accept it as a token of our admiration and respect, as well as evidence that President Alfredo-Chin bears you no hard feelings for the unfortunate incident earlier this year
.

While President Alfredo-Chin's own dog (me!) is practically perfect in every way, he wisely recognizes that in most cases, dogs will be dogs
.

Supreme Regards
,

Empress Pu-Chi

Pekingese

P.S.—In keeping with the laws on gifts to the pets of presidents, the stones adorning the accessory are not genuine diamonds but attractive facsimiles
.

Tessa and I didn't know the word
facsimile
, but our Cousin Nathan did. He is ten like me and lives with us here in the White House along with his mom, my aunt Jen. According to Nathan,
facsimile
is pronounced
fak-
si
-mi-lee
, and it means “copy”—in other words, fake.

Also, I should explain that when President Manfred Alfredo-Chin visited earlier this year, Hooligan did something that almost caused an international incident. I was glad to know there were no hard feelings.

“What do you mean you think the letter's wrong?” I asked Tessa. “You think someone's lying about the diamonds?”

Tessa shrugged. “All I'm sayin' is they look pretty sparkly.”

Hooligan opened his other eye and wiggled his ears. At the same time, I heard canary hysteria from the second-floor kitchen.

“What is wrong with Granny's new—?” Tessa started to ask, but before she could finish, Hooligan jumped like a string had yanked him.

“Hooligan?” I made my voice all calm and soothing. “Be good now.”

Hooligan cocked his head as if I had made an excellent suggestion, one worth thinking about . . . but not right now. Right now he was too busy . . .

. . . going
crazy!

He does this sometimes: lunges forward, thumps his paws, springs high in the air and spins so fast he turns blurry.

“
Catch him!
” I yelled.

Tessa dived, but too soon, and Hooligan, long tail flying, made a neat leap over her and ran like he'd seen rabbits in the distance.

Twee-twee-twee!
came from the kitchen, and then the clatter of canary wings against the cage.

Distracted, I turned and didn't see Tessa's body, which I kicked—“
Ow, Cammie!
”—before falling over onto the floor. Lying there, I heard a squeal from down the hall. Then there was an
oof
, a
thump
, a pause and a
thwack
.

Oof
and
thump
mean Hooligan's crashed into someone and knocked 'em over. This happens a lot.

But
thwack
? What did that mean?

Twee-twee-twee!

And then:
Aah-rooo!

Hooligan had started to howl.

Tessa and I untangled, scrambled and ran.

In the center hall, we found a body.

“Are you okay, Mrs. Hedges?” Tessa asked.

She was lying on her back with her eyes closed. Her hands clasped a feather duster to her chest.

“Go away.” Mrs. Hedges is one of the maids. She is usually grumpy.

“Hooligan's not really bad,” I explained. “He just has—”

“—too much energy. I know.” Mrs. Hedges did not open her eyes. “Don't worry about me. I'll just lie here till my strength returns.”

“What if it doesn't?” Tessa asked.

“Then someone will cart me away.”

Aah-rooo!

“We'll be back!” I told Mrs. Hedges.

We found Hooligan outside the Lincoln Bedroom, singing to the ceiling. High up on the closed door were the unmistakable marks of doggy toenails. Hooligan must've leaped at the door—
thwack
.

“
Hooligan! Be QUIET!!
” Tessa yelled.

This had no effect.

Then the door opened.

A beautiful blonde woman stood there. She was dressed all in white except for a gold necklace and gold earrings. She was smiling . . . luckily. “Why, Hooligan,
shouldn't you be out walking? Hello, Cameron. Hello, Tessa.
Oh!
”

The “
oh!
” was Hooligan pushing past her into the bedroom.

“Hello, Ms. Kootoor,” Tessa said. “Sorry about—”

“Never mind, Tessa,” said Ms. Kootoor. “You know how I love dogs. Be with you in a moment.” The door closed.

Ms. Madeline Kootoor is a friend of my mom's from high school. She used to be a supermodel, then she married somebody rich, then he died. She's been staying with us for a week. According to Dad, we can't throw her out because she raised so much money for my mom's campaign. Plus she and Tessa get along great. They talk about clothes and purses and junk.

The door opened again. Ms. Kootoor came out, holding Hooligan by the collar. At the same time, Mr. Bryant walked up behind us.

Hooligan was thrilled to see Mr. Bryant. He wagged his tail, smiled a big doggy smile and lunged—pulling Ms. Kootoor right over on her face.

“Hooligan!” Mr. Bryant is usually patient, but now he was angry. “Can't a man grab a cup of coffee without all be-whatz-it breaking loose?”

Hooligan finally figured out he was in trouble and dropped to the floor with his paws over his ears. For a moment, he and Ms. Kootoor were lying side by side. Then Ms. Kootoor pushed herself up on her elbows, squinched her eyes, and shook her head.