The Case of the Fire Alarm (3 page)

I head for the door, but a man who smells like cleaning stuff stops me. “You stay out here, boy,” he says to me.

“But ... but ... ” I sputter. “I can help.”

“No one goes back inside until the all clear is given,” the man says. “That includes dogs.”

Fine.

I run along the outside of the school. Sniffing ... sniffing ... sniffing. I still don’t smell fire. I don’t even smell smoke.

So why did the fire trucks come if there’s no fire? And why did that terrible noise go off if no fire drill was scheduled?

I’m kind of worried about all of this. It would help if someone I knew gave me a little pat or told me I was a good dog.

I look around. I don’t see Connor or Ellie in the crowd. But I do see my old friend Jillian. She is standing off to the side with a girl I don’t know.

I go over and nudge Jillian’s hand to get her to pet me. But Jillian is too busy talking to her friend to give me any attention.

“Are you sure no one saw you?” the friend whispers. She smells like honey and cinnamon.

“I’m sure,” Jillian whispers back. “I saw a kid go into the boys’ bath-room, but he didn’t see me. No one saw me.”

A school bell rings, and everyone starts moving quickly toward the building.

I hear Ellie calling, “Buddy? Come here, Buddy!”

Ah, there you are, Ellie!
I run to her. She picks up my leash, and we head for school.

No one is blocking the door anymore. And that terrible NOISE inside the school has finally stopped.

“Was there really a fire?” a boy asks.

“I don’t think so,” says one of the teachers.

“Then why did the fire alarm go off?” a girl asks.

No one answers her.

The kids all go back to their class-rooms, and Ellie and I go back into the office. Mom is already in there. She’s talking to a firefighter who is wearing a heavy coat, boots, and pants that all smell like smoke, fire, and mud. But he didn’t pick up the smoke, fire, and mud here.

“There’s no fire,” the firefighter tells Mom. His jaw is set tight. “I think one of your kids pulled the fire alarm.”

Mom has my leash tied around her belt. It isn’t very tight.

We follow the firefighter down the hall and around the corner, my nose to the ground. I smell people. LOTS of people have walked down this hallway. I also smell paint ... and glue ... and books ... and crackers and cheese. Oh, I LOVE crackers and cheese. They’re my favorite foods!

The crackers and cheese smell is coming from that room over there. I pull toward that room, and the leash slips away from Mom’s belt.

Wow! What a great classroom
this
is. Little kids are sitting at their desks, munching on crackers and cheese. I wonder if five or nine of those kids would share their crackers and cheese with me ...

“Look! There’s Buddy! Hi, Buddy!” the kids say when I walk in.

The girl closest to the door offers me her cracker. “Hey, thanks!” I say, gobbling it up.

The next kid hasn’t even started eating his crackers and cheese. “If you don’t want your crackers and cheese, I’ll take them,” I offer.

Oh! It’s Blueberry Muffin Kid, otherwise known as Zack. The kid I accidentally knocked down outside. I guess he’s still mad about that because he’s not going to share his food with me.

“Hey!” says a sharp voice. I hear hands clapping, and I look up.

It’s Mrs. Argus.
Why do I keep running into her?

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Argus,” Mom says right behind me. She grabs my leash.

Mrs. Argus clicks her tongue. “First your dog knocked one of my students down. Now he’s running around loose, stealing food from my first-graders.”

What? No, I’m not!

“I promise this won’t happen again,” Mom says as she leads me out of the room.

“But ... I didn’t steal anything,” I say. “I’m being a good dog! Really, I am.”

“Bye, Buddy! See you later, Buddy!” the kids say.

I wag my tail at them, then go down the hall with Mom and the firefighter.

“This is the alarm that was pulled.” The firefighter points at a small red box on the wall. It’s up pretty high. Too high for me to sniff without getting up on my hind legs. That’s okay. If that’s the thing that made the terrible noise, I don’t need to sniff it. I want to stay as far away from it as I can.

“I can’t imagine who would have pulled the alarm,” Mom says, rubbing her chin.

The firefighter glances at me. “Your dog looks like he wants to help us find out who did it,” he says with a smile.

“Oh, no,” I say. I’m about to tell the firefighter that I’m a therapy dog now. I don’t solve mysteries anymore.

But then I remember Mrs. Argus. She thinks I’m a bad dog. She thinks I attacked one of her students. And now she thinks I’m a thief, too! I need to do something to show her I’m not a bad dog.

Maybe I
should
help Mom and the firefighter find out who pulled the alarm. Then Mrs. Argus will see what a GOOD DOG I am, and she won’t try to get me kicked out of the school.

I get right to work. Sniff ... sniff ... sniff. My nose is my best tool for crime-solving.

Whoever pulled this alarm must have left a trail. All we have to do is find it ... and follow it.

Here it is! “Follow me, guys,” I say.

Wait. There’s another trail over here. And another one over here. And another one over here. And another one over here!

This isn’t going to work. There are too many trails. Too many people have walked down this hallway.

How else can I solve this mystery? Are there any other clues?

I see some mud on the floor. There’s mud by the fire alarm and all along the hallway.
Could that be a clue?

I don’t want to get too close to that alarm box, but I have to see if there are any clues up there. I get up on my hind legs and sniff.

Paint? Is that paint on the alarm? That’s what it smells like. I think the color of that paint is called green.

Mom pulls me down.

“Yeah, but do you see the paint on the alarm?” I say. I hop back up on my hind legs to show her the paint, but she pulls me down again.

“You should talk to the teachers who have classes in this hallway,” the firefighter says. “See if any of them saw anything.”

Mom nods. “I’ll also find out if any of their students had a bathroom pass about the time the alarm went off.” She points at the two closed doors across the hall. “Someone in the bathroom could have seen or heard something.”

I paw at Mom’s leg. “Ask the teachers if their kids were painting this morning, too,” I say.

“Buddy, shh!” Mom says.

“A kid in the bathroom may have seen something,” the firefighter says. “But if he was away from the rest of his class, he could have been the one who
pulled
the alarm.”

Wow, that’s a smart firefighter!

“Are you guys writing this stuff down?” I ask Mom. “We should make lists of things we know, things we don’t know, and things we can do to find out what we don’t know.” That’s what a good detective does.

Here is what we know about this case:

The fire alarm went off.

Fire alarms are LOUD!!!

Somebody pulled the alarm on purpose.

There is mud in the hallway by the alarm.

There is green paint on the fire alarm.

Here is what we don’t know:

Who pulled the fire alarm???