“Let’s go, Buddy,” Mom says. “In the car.” She pats the back seat. But I am in the middle of a very important conversation.
“Where are Maya and Alex now?” I ask Jazzy.
“I don’t know,” she says. “I saw them go in that door over there.” She tips her head toward the far door at the end of the school. “I don’t think they ever came out.”
I have to find out what Maya and Alex are up to. I yank my leash out of Mom’s grasp and RUN for that door.
“Buddy!” Mom stomps her foot. “Come back here!”
I keep running. Along the way I pick up Maya’s scent. Her brother’s scent, too.
I can feel Mom chasing me across the playground. I know she isn’t happy. But I have to follow Maya and Alex’s trail. I follow it all the way to the school. Unfortunately, the door is closed.
I don’t know why all buildings can’t have a doggy door like I have at my house.
I peer in through the glass. Mr. Poe is mopping the floor.
“Let me in!” I say, scratching at the slippery door. “Please, let me in!”
Mr. Poe comes over and pushes the door open with his hip.
“Grab him!” Mom yells to Mr. Poe. “Grab Buddy!”
Mr. Poe reaches for me, but I leap away before he can grab me. I charge across the wet floor. Sniffing ... sniffing ... sniffing. Uh-oh. I think Mr. Poe has mopped away Maya and Alex’s trail.
No, wait. When I get to a part of the floor where Mr. Poe hasn’t mopped yet, I pick up the trail again. I follow it down the hall, around the corner, around another corner, down the stairs, all the way to that secret door.
I sniff the door. I don’t hear voices or anything moving around inside, but I’m pretty sure I smell those kids in there.
“BUDDY, SIT!” Mom yells as she hurries toward me. “SIT AND STAY!”
I sit.
“Good boy,” Mom says, grabbing my leash.
I pop back up and scratch at the door some more. “PLEASE OPEN THIS DOOR!” I say. “Maya and Alex are in there. We have to find out what they’re doing.”
“What does Buddy want in the furnace room?” Mom asks.
This is the furnace room?
“I don’t know,” Mr. Poe says. “He must smell something. I wish we could get in there.” He tries the door, but it’s locked.
“Without a key, there isn’t much we can do,” Mom says. “Come on, Buddy. Let’s go home.”
Hmm. I think I have yet another new case. On the way home, I think about The Case of Maya, the Missing Key, and the Furnace Room.
Here is what I know about my new case:
Maya and Alex were in the furnace room.
Mr. Poe and Mom don’t know where the key to the furnace room is.
Maya had a key to the furnace room.
I think Maya took the key. But why would she do that?
There are more things that I don’t know about this new case than there are things that I do know. Here is what I don’t know:
Why was Maya in the furnace room?
Why does she have a key to the furnace room?
Why did she say, “No! No! No! No! No!” when she was in there?
Who are Felix, Freckles, and Fluffy?
Where did Felix, Freckles, and Fluffy go?
What do mice have to do with anything?
Why did Maya and her brother run back into the school?
Here is what I’m going to do to find out what I don’t know:
???
Maybe I should go back to the Case of the Library Monster. Or the case of the Four Lakes Elementary School Ghost. But I don’t have a plan for figuring out how to solve either of those cases, either.
Sometimes being a detective is hard.
The next morning when Mom, Connor, and I arrive at school, I spy Alex on the playground. He’s playing basketball with some other boys.
I don’t see Maya.
Connor has hold of my leash because Mom is getting something out of the trunk. It’s a BIG box. But not a very deep box. It doesn’t smell very interesting.
“Can I go play basketball with those boys?” I ask Mom as she slams the trunk.
“I think Buddy wants to play on the playground, Mom. Is that okay?” Connor asks.
Did Connor understand me?
“That’s fine,” Mom says. “As long as you bring him to the office when the bell rings.”
Connor and I join the basketball game.
I stick close to Alex. He smells like dog and rabbit and bacon and eggs. He does not smell like blue-tongued skink. If Maya has a blue-tongued skink for a pet, Alex must not spend much time with it.
I follow Alex all around the basketball court. I sniff. I listen. I watch. But I don’t learn anything that will help me solve any of my mysteries.
The bell rings and all the kids run toward the school. Connor brings me to the office. I go on ahead of him and plop down on my pillow. I’m exhausted.
Connor doesn’t come in. Instead, he PUTS A GATE across Mom’s doorway.
“Hey! What are you doing?” I charge toward the gate. It doesn’t budge.
I rest my chin on top of the gate and peer at Connor. “Did you know you just locked Mom and me in her office?”
Connor looks a little sorry. “See you later, Buddy,” he says with a wave.
I gaze over at Ellie. She makes sad eyes at me, then reaches into her treat jar and tosses me a beef treat. I catch it in my mouth. I love beef treats, but they don’t make me feel any better about that gate.
“I’m sorry we had to put up a gate, Buddy,” Mom says. “But we can’t have you running around loose in the school.”
“I only run around loose in the school when I have something important to do,” I tell her.
At least I am only stuck behind that gate for eleventy-two minutes. Then Mrs. Christie comes to get me.
“Oh, boy!” I say, hopping to my feet. “Time to read!” I wonder if Maya will read to me today. Or Alex.
As Mrs. Christie and I turn a corner, I pick up a trail. I smell blue-tongued skink! He’s still around. But where is he?
I am sniffing ... sniffing ... sniffing ...
Darn. I lost the trail.
“This way, Buddy.” Mrs. Christie steers me into the library.
I can’t tell whether Blue-Tongued Skink has been back to the library or not. And there’s no time to explore because there’s already a kid sitting on my pillow when I get there. He waves at me and Mrs. Christie.
“Hi, Noah,” Mrs. Christie says as we settle in on the pillow.
Noah smells like cereal and milk. I LOVE cereal and milk. They’re my favorite foods! Noah reads to me about things that go up and down. Then I play dead for him and he goes back to his class.
The next kid reads about a boy named Henry, a dog named Mudge, and a very dirty cat. The parts about the cat are boring, but I like Mudge. He reminds me of my friend Mouse.
Another kid reads to me about snakes. And the kid after that reads to me about lizards.
Just when I think I’m not going to see Maya today (or ever again), she strolls into the library.
I wag my tail. “Hi, Maya,” I say. “Are you going to read to me?”
“Hi, Buddy,” she says. She’s smiling with her mouth, but not her eyes.
“Look what I brought.” Maya shows me that same book she brought last time. The one with the blue-tongued skink on the cover. I note that she doesn’t smell very much like blue-tongued skink today. She sits down on the pillow next to me and Mrs. Christie and starts to read.
I have a hard time keeping my mind on Maya’s book because Maya smells worried. Worried or scared. It’s hard to tell.
“What’s the matter, Maya?” I ask. “Why are you worried? Why are you scared?”
She keeps reading.
“Does it have something to do with the furnace room?” I ask.
Maya turns a page, rubs my back, and keeps on reading.
“Who are Felix, Freckles, and Fluffy? Did you ever find them?” I ask.
Maya doesn’t answer my questions. When she finishes reading, Mrs. Warner says, “You’re the last reader this morning, Maya. Would you like to take Buddy back to the office?”
“Okay,” Maya says.
Maya doesn’t answer my questions when we’re alone in the hall, either. She just pets me and tells me what a good dog I am.
Mom opens the gate and lets me into her office. “Thanks, Maya,” she says, closing the gate behind me.
“You’re welcome,” Maya replies.
Then something very strange happens. Mom goes back to her desk and Maya tiptoes over to that board with all the keys.
She peers over her shoulder, hangs a key on the empty hook, and scurries toward the door.