The Case of the Bug on the Run Read Online Free PDF Page A

Tessa. “And for that matter, how do they even know we have a cockroach now?”
    â€œFrom Jan and Larry.” Granny came in behind Nate. “As I expected, you were on the local news with Jan and Larry last night. They mentioned you’d adopted a cockroach from the zoo. I have to give these bug liberation people credit. They move fast. But now we have more pressing issues to discuss.”
    â€œLike how we’re not in trouble anymore?” said Tessa hopefully.
    â€œAnd we don’t have to give away the Ks?” I said.
    â€œActually, you’re in more trouble than ever,” said Granny. “Wait till you see the news coverage of last night’s dinner. But first things first. You have an appointment. Mr. Morgan and Mr. Webb will meet you in the Treaty Room in twenty minutes.”
    Mr. Morgan and Mr. Webb are security officers who work for the Smithsonian Institution. Sometimes we help them out with detecting. Since the National Zoo is part of the Smithsonian, I was pretty sure I knew what our appointment had to be about—a certain mysterious bug on the run.
    As for the news coverage—what was Granny talking about? It couldn’t be that the news guys cared about Hooligan and the Ks’ minor misbehavior at a formal White House dinner. I mean, could it?

CHAPTER TWELVE
    The Treaty Room is across the Center Hall from our bedroom. Sometimes my mom uses it as a second office or for meetings. When Tessa, Nate and I walked in, Mr. Morgan and Mr. Webb were sitting in comfy chairs drinking coffee. As usual, they were wearing rumpled gray suits.
    Granny and Mom were also waiting for us in the Treaty Room. If Mom was there, that meant our mystery must be important.
    Mom stood up, ruffled Nate’s hair and gave me and Tessa each a squeeze.
    When she sat back down, she was all business. “Mr. Morgan? Could you go over what you told my national security advisor this morning?”
    Tessa was wearing her pink sparkly ball cap, the one she always wears for detecting. I had my pen and notebook, and now I got ready to write.
    â€œBriefly,” said Mr. Morgan, “as of twenty-oh-sevenhours yesterday, a government sensing device detected a new radio signal in the White House residence—specifically the East Bedroom.”
    â€œTwenty-oh-seven is seven minutes after eight o’clock at night,” Nate said.
    â€œWe know, Nate,” Tessa said.
    â€œAnd the East Bedroom is our bedroom,” I said.
    â€œI know that, too,” said Tessa. “And there aren’t any signals there, I mean, unless it counts as a signal when the Ks purr. Maybe the device heard the kittens?”
    â€œImpossible,” said Mr. Morgan.
    â€œYeah, Tessa,” said Nate. “Because if you remember, at eight-oh-seven last night, your kittens were causing chaos at a White House formal dinner.”
    â€œRight!” said Tessa. “Please continue, Mr. Morgan.”
    Mr. Morgan did. “In fact, we do believe the signal is coming from one of your pets—the newest one, the bug you named James Madison.”
    Tessa waved her arms. “Oh, fine. Whatever happens, blame the bug.”
    â€œI like bugs, actually,” said Mr. Morgan. “I had an ant farm as a child.”
    Tessa’s eyes lit up. “Granny? Can we get—”
    Granny said, “Don’t even think about it.”
    â€œSpecifically, we believe the signal is coming from an audiovisual transmitter affixed to the bug,” said Mr. Morgan.
    I looked up from my notebook. “You mean our bugis shooting video?” I said. “And recording what we say?”
    Tessa squealed. “You mean our very own bug is a
spy
?” She smacked her forehead. “And to think all this time we trusted him!”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
    Mr. Morgan did his best to calm Tessa down.
    â€œYour bug could hardly have bugged himself,” he said. “Therefore, your bug is not the spy. Instead, it