The Case of the Rock 'n' Roll Dog by Martha Freeman

said. “He wasn’t carrying anything when we saw him. So it’s
still
down there. Come on!” Tessa jumped to her feet, but at the same time, Granny came in and said we should go wash up.
    â€œGranny,” Tessa announced, “there is an emergency. I am afraid we will have to delay dinner.”
    Granny was not impressed. “And what is this so-called emergency?”
    â€œNate stole Colonel Michaels’s baton and hid it,” Tessa said. “And now Cammie and I must go and get it back.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

    GRANNY’S answer was dead silence.
    Not a good sign.
    Finally, Tessa said, “Are you angry at Nate?”
    â€œNo,” Granny said.
    â€œAre you angry at us?”
    â€œYes,” Granny said.
    And then she let us have it. “You girls have been out to get that boy since we moved into the White House. His behavior hasn’t been perfect, goodness knows. But I can hardly blame him if he feels ganged up on.”
    Unlike me, Tessa is not a wimp. If someone gets mad at her, she gets mad back. “In my opinion”—she put her hands on her hips—”Nate stole that baton.”
    â€œAnd in
my
opinion . . .” Granny’s hands were on her hips, too. “
You
are full of prunes, Tessa Parks! Your cousin—my grandson—is not a thief. And that is the last I want to hear on the subject. Understood?” She looked at Tessa first, then me.
    We looked at our shoes. “Understood,” we said meekly.
    And we also understood that there would be no more detecting that night.
    Dinner was not so fun. Granny didn’t once crack a smile, and Tessa and I were half afraid to talk. Besides the fancy Italian noodles, the only good thing was that Nate didn’t eat with us. According to Granny, he was having some kind of an extra piano lesson.
    An extra piano lesson?

    Here in America in the twenty-first century, I am one of two kids my age who does not have a phone.
    Nate is the other.
    Supposedly, we are too young. And all the excellent arguments about why we need them (like being the only person without one is ruining my social life!!!) do not convince our parents.
    Nate and Aunt Jen have their own family phone upstairs. People call me on our family’s phone. Usually when it rings for me, it’s Courtney. But that night it wasn’t.
    â€œCameron? This is Colonel Michaels. How are you?”
    I was sitting on the floor doing homework. Picturing Colonel Michaels, I sat up straight. “Fine, sir, how are you?”
    â€œVery well, thank you. I was just wondering whether you’ve had any success with the baton.”
    Tessa was sitting beside me. Granny was in a chair across the room. There was a book in her lap, but I knew she was listening. If I mentioned Nate, she’d go ballistic.
    â€œNot exactly success,” I said. “But today we interviewed witnesses and applied logic.”
    â€œAh,” said Colonel Michaels.
    â€œAnd, tomorrow, uh . . .” I looked at Tessa for help, but she shrugged and shook her head. “Well, tomorrow . . . our plan is to find it once and for all.”
    â€œSplendid,” said Colonel Michaels. “Then perhaps you could meet me just prior to the concert? And bring the baton with you.”
    What I said was, “No problem,” but what I thought was,
I hope
.

    Mom still hadn’t come upstairs when we went to bed, so once again, Granny said good night. She had barely closed the door when Tessa rolled over. “It’s in the Blue Room!”
    I wasn’t so sure. But I didn’t have a better idea. “The three color rooms connect,” I reminded her. “Nate could have been in Red or Green for all we know.”
    â€œYou’re right,” said Tessa. “How about this? Pretend you’re Nate on the state floor on Tuesday. You need a good hiding place in a hurry. Where do you go?”
    I didn’t have