The Case of the Diamond Dog Collar (12 page)

“Mrs. Hedges?” Tessa tried again.

“Yes?” Mrs. Hedges said.

“While you've been cleaning and stuff, have you noticed twelve mysterious diamonds lying around?”

“Subtle,” Nate said.

Mrs. Hedges looked shocked. “Now, you children know I can't go talking about what I see. There is such a thing as privacy.”

“We know,” I said quickly. “And we would never even ask. Only it's really important.”

“To the future of a nearby nation,” Nate said.

“Not to mention Granny's happiness,” I said.

“And Hooligan's,” Tessa said.

“All that?” said Mrs. Hedges. “Well, let me think.” Approximately two seconds passed, then, “Nope.” She shrugged. “No diamonds. Sorry.”

True to her word, Tessa gave up.

And after I had finished writing down my notes, I did, too.

At dinnertime, Dad and Granny ate with us, but Aunt Jen and Mom were too busy. Later, we watched a movie called
That Darn Cat
in the White House theater. It was Mr. Mormora's suggestion. It turns out he doesn't even have a dog of his own. In his off hours, he prefers cats.

Dad came in to kiss us good night.

“
Again?
” Tessa said. “We haven't seen Mom all day.”

“If it's any consolation, I've barely seen her myself,” Dad said. “And that brings me to some news. Good or bad first?”

“Bad!” I said.

“Good!” Tessa said.

Dad had a quarter in his pocket. When he flipped it, Tessa called tails and won. “The crisis your mom's been working on? It should blow over tomorrow. And then she'll have some time. If it warms back up, maybe a picnic.”

Tessa pumped her fist—“
Yes!
”—but I was too worried about the bad news.

“And?” I said.

“Well . . . okay. The thing is, I don't want to upset you. . . .”

“Uh oh,” said Tessa.

“But perhaps you've heard there's some trouble in a certain nearby nation—”

“Protesters!” Tessa interrupted.

Dad nodded. “And quite unexpectedly those troubles have spilled over into the United States. In fact, tomorrow morning after Canine Class, there's going to be an arrest made here at the White House. The timing is unfortunate, but necessary. I'm telling you because I don't want you to be alarmed. At the same time, just in case there's an emergency, it's important that you stay out of the way.”

Of course we had a million questions. Like who was going to be arrested? And what had they done? And was it because of the diamond dog collar?

But Dad just shook his head. “I can't say anymore, I'm sorry.” After that, he gave us our kisses and said, “Sweet dreams.”

After the door closed, the dark in our room seemed especially dark. Then Tessa asked, “Did Dad say emergency?”

“He said
maybe
emergency.”

“Same difference,” said Tessa. “So I know just what we need to take to Canine Class—our emergency whistles! That's why Granny gave them to us, right?”

SWEET dreams?

Ha!

Falling asleep was worse than on Christmas Eve, and instead of presents, my dreams were full of handcuffs and escaping canines, not to mention diamonds, diamonds everywhere.

It felt like I hadn't slept at all when someone shook my shoulder. Granny never does that. “Wha—hello, who?” I opened my eyes, and I couldn't believe it. Cousin Nathan!? He had never gotten up this early in his life!

“Shhh!” he whispered. “I'm sorry. But what I found out . . . you'll never believe it. I had to come and tell you. I think it's important.”

“Okay,” I said. “Tessa, wake up!”

Tessa and I made Nate look the other way while we put on our bathrobes. Then the three of us sat together on the sofa. It turned out Nate's mom had told him the same thing Dad told us. After that, he couldn't sleep
either. So he decided to do some research online. “And,” he said, “I learned something very interesting about Eb Ghanamamma's most famous folk song, ‘Lina.' ”

“The two of them? Really?” I said after he told us. “So that means the confederate has to be—?”

Nate nodded. “I think so.”

“Let's look at the notes again,” I said.

The sun still wasn't up, so we sat in the lamplight and read like we were studying for a test. It took a while, but then I spotted it, a clue we had missed all along: mud.

Piece by piece, the case came together—finally. But there was one more thing we could do to be sure. It was still dark when we tiptoed down the hall and up the stairs to the third floor.

In Nate's bedroom, the computer was the only light. He opened his e-mail and got the link Ms. Major had sent, put the volume on mute so he wouldn't wake his mom, and clicked through the Jan and Larry video till he stopped at the very last frame.

I shook my head. “I can't believe we missed that the first time.”

“But what do we do now?” Tessa said. “Tell Mom? Tell Dad? What if they're going to arrest the wrong person?”

“No way,” said Nate. “The grown-ups have it figured out—same as we do.”

Remember how Mr. Mormora said to expect a surprise at the last Canine Class?

What he meant was Sports TV Network—STVN!

It turned out Mr. Mormora and Aunt Jen had seen a great opportunity for a story that would make the first family, the first dog and Canine Class all look good. And with Hooligan so popular, STVN loved the idea.

So that day instead of only the usual press guys watching, there were tons more cameras plus play-by-play and color commentary from two veteran sportscasters, Vin and Myron.

Having been up half the night, Tessa, Nate and I moved slowly that morning. By the time we got outside, the rest of the dogs were ready to go. With Mr. Mormora smiling and the sun shining again—it was hard to believe that after class, a diamond thief was going to be arrested.

Mr. Mormora welcomed us and also the audience watching on TV at home. Then he said, “For graduation day at Canine Class, I like to give the canines and their buddies a reward for all their work. For that reason, we are going to play a game.”

The rules were easy. Each CB told his CIT to stay, then ran about fifty feet across the lawn and stopped. On the way, the CB dropped Canine Cookies. If the CIT stayed like he was supposed to, the team got a point. If he didn't—like if he tried to steal a cookie—the team lost a point. After that, the CB called, “Come!” and the CIT was supposed to run to him or her without stopping. If the CIT did it, the team got more points—one for every cookie the dog ran past.

We divided into four teams. Team One, my team, had
Ms. Major and Pickles, Mr. Bryant and Cottonball, the labradoodle and his CB, plus one of the I-don't-know-whats. Because everybody had so much confidence in Hooligan, he and I were chosen to go last.

Tessa, Nate, Granny and Dad were watching from the spectators' area as usual. Mom was in the Oval Office, as usual. Malik was over by the spectators, and Charlotte was near the STVN crew, including Myron and Vin.

“A-a-a-a-and—
go!
” said Mr. Mormora.

Mr. Bryant was first up. He told Cottonball to stay, then he started running.

Mr. Bryant is not a fast runner. But Cottonball did great. He only ate one cookie, and then it was Ms. Major's turn.

Sadly, Pickles ate every cookie! Now we were way behind—and Ms. Major was really embarrassed.

Lucky for us, the Chihuahua on Team Four was so excited he chased his tail, got dizzy and ran the wrong way. And a golden retriever on Team Three staged a sit-down strike. Finally, his CB had to carry him to the finish line.

Meanwhile, Vin and Myron narrated and kept score. When finally it was our turn, I heard: “Going into the final lap, Team One, anchored by presidential pooch Hooligan Parks, is in second place, just five points behind Team Two. Will the First Dog choke? Or will he run to victory?”

The thing about a race is—it's fun. And with the STVN excitement and the crowd, I forgot all about
diamonds and bad guys and protesters. I just wanted to win!

“Go Team One!” hollered Nate from the sidelines.

“
Woo-hoo-hoo!
” hollered my drama queen sister.

I was sprinting across the South Lawn, dropping Canine Cookies as I went—and that's when I saw her: Ms. Kootoor! She had her Blueberry Bag over her shoulder, a matching sun hat on her head. She was pulling a rolling suitcase. And she was almost to the White House East Gate!

But where were the marines, the Secret Service, the D.C. police to arrest her? Didn't they know she was a diamond thief escaping?

“Hurry, Cameron! Hurry—what's the matter?” Ms. Major hollered.

I didn't know what to do. I looked over at Tessa and Nate. Couldn't they stop her? But from where they were standing, they couldn't even see her.

“What's Cameron Parks doing, Vin?” I heard Myron ask.

“Can't tell, Myron. She appears to have stopped dead in her tracks.”

“Could it be a strategic move, Vin?”

“Well, she'd better move fast. The newfie-cross on Team Four is trying hard to stage a comeback!”

I dropped a cookie, ran and dropped another. Then things got worse. Ms. Kootoor was only a few yards from the East Gate, and no one seemed to care. Instead, Charlotte, Malik, a couple more Secret Service agents and three marines were all walking toward Mr. Mormora.

I got a bad feeling.

Had the grown-ups gotten it wrong? Did they think Mr. Mormora was the thief?

At the finish line, I turned back toward Hooligan, who was sitting and staying like a Top Dog to be.

“Go ahead, Cameron. Call him! Hurry up!” said Mr. Bryant.

Mr. Mormora, by now, was looking right to left as marines and officers approached. Meanwhile, Ms. Kootoor got closer and closer to the gate. The guards might stop her, but only for a moment. Everybody loved Ms. Kootoor, and she'd been going in and out for days.

If I didn't do something fast, she'd escape.

And an innocent man would be arrested!

Hooligan cocked his head. He couldn't figure out what was wrong with me either. And that's when I knew what I had to do. The whistle! It was for emergencies, wasn't it? And this was an emergency.

“THE girl had a powerful whistle in her pocket, don't you think so, Vin?”

“My ears are ringing, Myron. What do you suppose she's up to?”

My whistle's shriek had been followed by an echo—Tessa's. She hadn't seen Ms. Kootoor. But she knew if I had an emergency, she had an emergency, too.

Then the strangest thing happened. Every bird in every tree on the South Lawn went crazy all at once–shrieking, trilling and singing. I even heard Humdinger up in his cage:
Twee! Twee! Twee!

A second after that, the canines started in, either howling or trying to dig down under the sound—all but Hooligan. He looked up, spotted Ms. Kootoor and forgot Canine Class altogether. So much for Top Dog—he bounded toward her at top speed. She must have known she'd never outrun him, but she dropped her suitcase and tried.