The Case of the Fire Alarm (4 page)

Here are some things we can do to find out who pulled the fire alarm:

Find out which kids were painting this morning.

Find out whether any of the teachers saw anything.

Find out if anyone was in the bathroom. That person may have seen something OR that person may be a suspect!

“So, who’s going to do what?” I ask. I look at Mom. Then I look at the firefighter.

Neither of them volunteers to do anything.

“How about I sniff around and see if I can find out which kids were painting this morning,” I offer, just to get things moving. We aren’t going to solve this case by standing around.

“Hey, what’s this?” Mom peers closer at the alarm box. She presses her finger against the smudge of paint, then looks at her finger with surprise. “Paint?” she says.

Yes, it’s paint. I showed you that eleventy-twelve minutes ago!

My ears twitch. I hear footsteps.

I watch the hallway to see who’s coming. Oh, it’s Ellie! I wag my tail.

“There you are, Sarah,” she says. “There’s a phone call for you in the office.”

Mom turns. “Can you take a message, please? We’re in the middle of something here.”

“Sure,” Ellie nods.

“And would you take Buddy with you?” Mom asks. “He’s getting in the way.”

Getting in the way?

“I’d be happy to,” Ellie says, reaching for my leash. “Come on, Buddy.”

I don’t want to go with Ellie. I want to stay and solve the Case of the Fire Alarm. “Please can’t I stay?” I ask Mom.

Mom turns to the firefighter, and they start talking in hushed voices. But no one understands what I am saying. I have no choice but to follow Ellie back to the office.

It’s not fair! I could help Mom and the firefighter. I could find clues that they miss. If they’d let me.

When Ellie and I get back to the office, I go right to my pillow, turn a circle, and plop down. I wonder how Mom and the firefighter are doing. Did they talk to any teachers? Did they find out whether anyone was in the bathroom? Did they find out which kids were painting this morning? And what about the mud on the floor? Did they ever even notice that?

Mom comes back a little while later.

I sit up. “Well?” I say.

She doesn’t offer any information. She just closes her door, sits down at her desk, and starts writing something on a piece of paper.

I get up and walk over to her. I wish I could read what she was writing on that paper. But I don’t know how to read.

“Hey, Buddy,” she says, patting my side. “How are you doing?”

“I’m okay,” I tell her with my eyes. “Did you solve the case? Do you know who pulled the fire alarm?”

Before Mom can answer, there’s a knock on her door. Ellie pokes her head into the room. “You wanted to see these three?” she says.

“Yes,” Mom says. She motions for them to come in.

Hey, I know these kids. I know
all
of these kids. First there’s Michael, who is Mouse’s new human. Then Jillian, who is Kayla’s old friend. And finally, Zack, the kid I accidentally knocked down outside.

They all walk very slowly into Mom’s office. I smell FEAR on all three of them. Lots of fear, which is strange because Mom is so nice! Why would anyone be afraid to come and visit her?

Ellie brings an extra chair from the main office and sets it beside the other two in front of Mom’s desk.

“Sit down,” Mom says.

Michael, Jillian, and Zack all sit. Ellie closes the door on her way out.

“You’re probably wondering why I called you down here,” Mom begins. “It’s about the fire alarm. Somebody pulled it. On purpose.”

Mom waits, but no one says anything.

“Did you know that it’s a crime to pull a fire alarm when there’s no fire?” Mom asks. “What if there had been a real fire across town when the firefighters were busy with our false alarm?”

Still nothing from Michael, Jillian, or Zack.

“You three weren’t in your classrooms when the alarm went off,” Mom says. “In fact, you were all somewhere near the alarm. Do any of you know who pulled it?”

Michael and Jillian glance at each other. Zack looks down at the floor.

Hmm. Michael and Zack both have mud on their shoes. Jillian
doesn’t
have mud on her shoes.

Could either of those boys have pulled the alarm? I go over and sniff them. I don’t really smell anything interesting on either one of them.

I
do
smell something interesting on Jillian, though. Paint.

Where is it? Where’s the paint?
While Jillian scratches my ears, I sniff, sniff, sniff the bottom of her leg ... her lap ... her hand. Ah, there it is! On her hands.
It’s the same color as the paint on the alarm.

But that doesn’t mean Jillian pulled the alarm. Jillian was Kayla’s friend. She’s a nice girl. She would never commit a crime.

“Your class was in the library when the alarm went off,” Mom says to Jillian. “But your teacher says you had a bathroom pass.”

“Yes,” Jillian says softly.

Michael’s mouth drops open. “That girl didn’t go into the bathroom!” he says. “She went into that other room across the hall.”

“What other room?” Mom asks. “The art room?”

“I don’t know,” Michael says. “Whatever room is next to the alarm. She went in there right before the alarm went off. I could tell she was up to something. She kept looking over her shoulder like she didn’t want anyone to see her. I don’t think anyone else was in that other room.”

“I was in the bathroom,” Jillian insists. “I was in the bathroom the whole time.”

My stomach tightens.
Jillian is not telling the truth!

It’s hard to explain how I know that. But you can see a lie in a human’s eyes, mouth, and in the way they hold their bodies. Sometimes you can even smell it on them.

Mom turns to Michael. “What were
you
doing in the hallway?” she asks. “The rest of your class was outside when the alarm went off.”

“I had to go to the bathroom,” Michael says.

“Did you have a bathroom pass?” Mom asks.

Michael pauses. “No,” he says.

“Why not?”

“I didn’t know I needed one.”

Mom frowns at him. “In this school, you always need permission when you leave the rest of your class.”

“Fine,” Michael says, slouching down in his seat.

Mom turns back to Jillian. “I see you’ve got some paint on your hands.”

Jillian quickly slides her hands under her legs.

“It looks like green paint,” Mom says. “Did you know there was some green paint on the fire alarm?”

“A lot of kids in Mrs. Doyle’s room have green paint on their hands,” Jillian says in a small voice. “We had art this morning. We were painting vegetables.”

“Aren’t you in Mrs. Doyle’s room, too?” Mom asks Michael. “Do you have paint on your hands?”

Michael holds up clean hands. “I did, but I washed it off,” he says. “When I went to the bathroom.”

I don’t know ... there’s something about Michael. I wouldn’t say he’s exactly lying ... but something about him doesn’t smell right. It’s like he’s hiding something.

Mom turns to Zack. “You’re the one who got knocked down on the playground, aren’t you?” she says. “That’s why you weren’t in your classroom. You were on your way back to your class from the nurse’s office.”

Zack is so scared when Mom talks to him that his whole body trembles.

Mom softens her voice. “Another teacher says you stopped to help her hang up a mural in the hallway before you got back to your class. Is that right?”

Zack nods once.

“She also said you got some paint on your hand, so she told you to go to the bathroom to wash up. That’s where you were headed when the alarm went off.”

Zack had paint on his hand, too?

“I don’t think you’re tall enough to pull the fire alarm,” Mom says right away. “But did you see either of these two pull it?”

Zack doesn’t look at Michael or Jillian. He just shakes his head quickly.

I can’t tell whether he’s telling the truth or not. I can’t see his face. And the only thing I can smell on him is FEAR. I don’t blame him for being afraid. He’s younger than those other kids. If he did see either of them pull the alarm, he’s not going to want to say so.

Finally, Michael jumps to his feet. “I know you think I did it. But just because I pulled the fire alarm at my old school doesn’t mean I pulled it here!”

Michael pulled the fire alarm at his old school?

Mom raises an eyebrow. “You pulled the fire alarm at your old school?”

“Y-you didn’t know that?” Michael asks.

“No, actually, I didn’t,” Mom says. But she seems very interested in this information.

I’m interested, too. Michael is tall enough to pull the alarm. He admitted he had paint on his hands, but he washed it off. And he has pulled a fire alarm before.

“I didn’t pull it!” Michael says.

“Neither did I!” Jillian says.

“Neither did I,” Zack whispers.

I smell another lie. But this time I’m not sure who it’s coming from.

“I don’t know who pulled the fire alarm,” Mom says. “But I will find out. And when I do ...”

I gulp. I didn’t pull the alarm, but when Mom uses that tone of voice, I feel scared anyway, for the person who did.

It’s dark in Connor’s room. I’m snuggled up against Connor on his bed, and I’m thinking about the Case of the Fire Alarm.

Here is what I know about Zack:

He had mud on his shoes.