Ivy came down her stairs holding a gigantic pair of scissors. “My mom says not to cut anything thick with them.” She handed them to Bean.
“I’ve seen ropes that are way thicker than this,” said Bean. She knelt by the end of the rope and started cutting. “Okay,” she said, when she had finally done it. “This is our sample. Let’s get to work.” She stood up.
“Where are you going?” asked Dino.
“We’re going to find our suspect,” said Bean.
“Suspects are people who might have done it,” explained Bean. “We’re going to look in people’s basements and sheds and stuff. If we see a yellow rope, then we know that person is probably the one who’s doing it. Get it?”
They got it.
“First stop is your house,” said Bean to Dino.
“My house?!” shouted Dino. “I didn’t do anything!”
“Okay. But what about your dad?” asked Bean. “Or Crum . . . I mean, Matt?” Everyone called Dino’s brother Crummy Matt except Dino. It was hard to remember to call him just plain Matt when Dino was around.
“It wasn’t my dad or Matt,” said Dino. “They’re on a field trip. But you can look in our basement if you want.”
Dino’s basement was surprising, but not because there was yellow rope in it. There were lots of paintings in it and they were all of clouds. Dino’s dad had painted them.
At Sophie S.’s house, they kept their junk in the garage. There was plenty of junk in there. But no rope.
Ruby and Trevor’s house was the neatest place in the world. Even in the shed, all the stuff was in baskets and each basket had a little sign on it. Ivy and Bean found green garden string, but no rope.
They went to Prairie’s house, Sophie W.’s house, and Jake the Teenager’s house. Jake the Teenager said his gecko was sleeping, so they couldn’t come in. But he said he knew for sure he didn’t have any yellow rope. Then they went to Ivy’s house and Bean’s house, too, just to be fair. They saw many interesting things. But not one of the things they saw was a yellow rope.
After that, everyone went to Bean’s office to rest. Bean sat in her spinny chair, thinking. They had done all the kid-houses. Eight kid-houses, no rope. That left seven—no, eight—houses with no kids or tiny kids or grown-up kids. How was she going to get into those basements and sheds? Could she sneak in? She might have to break a window. Al Seven would do it in a second. Al Seven had probably never been grounded.
Ivy cleared her throat.
Bean spun.
Ivy cleared her throat again.
Bean looked at her. What?
Ivy wiggled her eyebrows. She tossed her hair.
Bean gave Ivy a bug-eyed look. What?
Ivy tapped her nose.
“What?!” Bean shouted.
“I have an idea!” yelled Ivy. Everyone looked up. “Well, I do,” she said. “I read a book that said you can tell when people are lying if they look to one side or cover their mouths or pull their ears while they’re talking.”
“Pull their ears? Who pulls their ears?” asked Sophie S., confused.
Bean pulled her ear. “It doesn’t make me feel like lying.”
“No,” said Ivy. “It doesn’t make you lie to pull your ear, but if you are lying, you’ll pull it.”
“Oh.” Bean thought about that. “Great.”
“Don’t you get it?” asked Ivy. “We go around Pancake Court. We ring the doorbell and show people the rope. We say, ‘Have you seen this rope before?’ Everyone will say no, but if they look to one side or cover their mouths or pull their ears while they say it, they’re lying! And then,” Ivy smiled, “we have our suspect!”
