BY now, it was dark outside, and a little bit rainy. We all piled into the car.

“You okay back there?” Papi called to Javier, who was sitting all the way in the back.

“Yup! This is so cool. With my night-vision goggles, I can see everything! Hey, Mr. Perez, did you know there’s three pieces of popcorn under the seat back here?”

“Oh. Ah … I did not know that. Thanks, Javier.”

“You’re welcome!” Javier called back. Then he picked the popcorn off the floor and ate it!

“Ew!!!!” Shakira shrieked. We were all pretty disgusted.

“What?” Javier said. “I like popcorn!”

“Now, guys,” Papi said trying to get our attention, “My source tells me the driver we want to talk to is a man named Jason. I called ahead, and he was nice enough to agree to talk to us. He even said you guys could interview him on camera.”

“Yippee!” I squealed.

“Does he really have the drum?” asked Alyssa.

“We’re not quite sure yet,” Papi answered as he turned a corner. “He didn’t have time to go into detail about what happened. He just said to meet him at the bus depot at six when he gets off his shift. Here we are,” Papi said as he drove into the bus parking lot. “Right on time.”

We all got out of the car and ran over to a little building in the back of the parking lot. Inside was a small office with a man standing next to a wooden desk and a metal filing cabinet. He had a name tag that said Jason. And he was still wearing his blue bus driver uniform. I’d never interviewed someone wearing a uniform before! This was so cool.

“Hello,” said Jason. “Welcome to the bus depot. Now how can I help you?”

“Hi,” I said back. “We’re working on a very important investigation, and we need to do an interview with you.”

“Yes, I heard something about that. Not a problem. Should I stand right here?”

“Yes, that’s perfect,” Sophia replied. She had already gotten the camera phone and microphone out.

I looked over to Sophia and Shakira, and they were ready to go. Javier was inspecting the office with his goggles. Alyssa stood next to Papi, looking worried.

“Thank you again for doing this. We’re very grateful,” Papi told Jason.

“It’s no problem. I trust Nick with my life. Any friend of Nick’s is a friend of mine. I hope I can help.”

“Nick is my source,” Papi explained to us.

Oh, I thought. That’s why Papi says that it’s important have a source you can trust.

I turned to Jason and said, “Yeah, thanks, I hope you can help us, too.” I looked at Shakira, and she pointed the microphone at Jason.

“Okay, let’s get started,” I continued. “Jason, can you please tell me what happened on the bus when you found the drum?”

“Sure thing,” he answered. “I was driving down my regular route that afternoon. We had just passed 181st Street when a passenger tapped me on the shoulder. He told me a drum had been left on a seat near the back. When we got to the next stop, I got out of my seat to go take a look. I saw what he was talking about. A big brown drum, with a flower on the side, was just sitting there on one of the seats. I knew right away it was a special drum. I play the guitar, and I knew a beautiful instrument like that shouldn’t be left alone. So I picked it up and brought it over to the driver’s seat for safekeeping. I kept it there by my side until I got back to the bus depot.”

“Do you have the drum here?” Alyssa asked hopefully.

“Well, that’s the thing,” he answered.

“It’s in the lost and found, isn’t it?” Javier chimed in from across the room.

“Well, that’s where I put it,” Jason answered.

“Let’s go get it!” Shakira shouted.

“I’m afraid there’s a problem,” Jason continued. “Someone already picked it up. A teenage boy was here yesterday and said the drum belonged to him.”

“A teenage boy?” I asked.

“Who? Did he give his name?” Alyssa asked.

“Everyone has to sign the log,” answered Jason, nodding. “Let’s take a look.”

We waited anxiously while Jason the bus driver grabbed a folder from the file cabinet. He took out a piece of paper and started scanning it.

“Ah, there we go,” he said, pointing to a name on the list. “Josh Baker. That’s who claimed the drum, Josh Baker.”

“What????” Shakira screamed. “THE Josh Baker? He was here??”

“Um, I suppose he was,” Jason answered, looking up, a bit startled.

Shakira started jumping up and down like a crazy person.

“Doubtful,” Sophia said to Shakira with a sigh.

“Yeah, this is not good,” I added.

“What’s not good?” Papi asked. “What’s going on? Who’s Josh Baker?”

“Mr. Perez,” Shakira answered, still bouncing, “Josh Baker is like the best singer in the world. Like a million girls think he’s gorgeous! I can’t believe he has our drum!” She was still beaming and clapping her hands with excitement. Sophia, Javier, and I rolled our eyes.

“Shakira, Josh Baker doesn’t have our drum,” I told her. “Somebody used a fake name.” Suddenly she stopped bouncing and looked really sad.

“How do you know it’s fake?” she asked.

“Do you really think Josh Baker came to this bus depot yesterday for a drum?” Javier answered.

“It doesn’t seem likely,” Papi added.

Shakira looked crushed. We were all sad. This meant the drum was gone again, and we had no idea who took it. I was so disappointed I wanted to cry, and Alyssa started to tear up again. Now what? It felt like we were never going to get the drum back.

I had to think of something. So I started playing with my curl again. C’mon, magic curl, I need an idea!

I pulled on my curl and made it stretch it all the way down as far as it would go.

“Emma, what are you doing?” Shakira asked. “You’re going to mess up your hair!”

“Just a minute,” I told her.

After I got my curl to stretch past my waist, I let it go, and it sprang right back up to my head. Then bam! It worked! The curl really was magic. I had an idea.

“Jason, can I take a look at the log?”

“Sure,” he said as he handed it over to me.

Just as I suspected, you had to write down more information than just your name. You had to write your address, too.

“Look, he wrote his address down next to his name,” I told everyone, “but I can’t read it. It looks smudged, and the handwriting is too sloppy.”

“Give it over here!” Javier called. “I am an expert at sloppy handwriting! Miss Thompson said my handwriting was some of the sloppiest she’s seen!” He pulled out his magnifying glass and focused on the address.

“Hmm … this is pretty messy. And smudgy. But I think I got it. It says, ‘Washington High School.’ ”

“Ugh. That’s not an address,” I sighed, disappointed. Alyssa perked her head up.

“That’s my school,” she said. “He goes to my school.”