against them coming up, and theyâd do anything to make us lose.â
Â
Â
âHow would they know about your socks?â Milo asked. âThey couldnât actually smell them on the field. . . . Could they?â
Dylan sighed. âEverybody knows. The local Z station sent a camera crew to last weekâs game, and I shot off my big mouth about my winning streak. Told them with my lucky socks, we couldnât lose.â He slumped down on his bed.
Â
Jazz asked, âDid you check with your teammates? Maybe someone took them by mistake.â
âI asked everybody. Even Coach.â
âDoes anyone else use the boysâ locker room after school?â she said.
Dylan shrugged. âThe swim team, I guess. And the tennis players. And the fencing club. And track and field. . . . â
âThatâs a lot of people,â Jazz said. âAnybody could have walked off with your socks.â
âBut why would anyone from
our
school want to wreck my lucky streak? Weâre on the same side!â
âMaybe someoneâs mad at you,â Milo suggested. He was getting tired of Jazz asking all the questions. Who was the super sleuth around here, anyway? âHave you got any enemies?â he asked.
Dylan frowned. âI donât think so.â
âThen maybe itâs an international sock-napping gang. Was there a ransom note?â
Dylan shook his head. âIâm sure it was an Eagle.â He sank onto his unmade bed. âFridayâs the big game. Without my lucky socks, weâll never win.â
Friday! That was the day after tomorrow.
As they headed back downstairs, Jazz said, âSo I think we should start at the scene of the crime.â
Milo looked at her. âWhat do you mean,
we?â
âTheyâre
my
brotherâs missing socks,â she said. âBesides, every detective needs a partner, right?â
A partner? Um . . .
âAnyway,â she said, not waiting for an answer, âIâve got a plan. What I think isââ
Â
âI already have a plan,â Milo cut in. Who was in charge of this case, anyway?
âReally?â asked Jazz. âWhat?â
âTomorrow afternoon Iâm going over to the high school.â
Jazz lifted an eyebrow. âAnd?â
âAnd . . .â Okay, maybe it wasnât a plan exactly. âAnd then Iâll look for clues.â
âLike what?â
How was he supposed to know before he looked? âMaybe someone saw an Eagle in the locker room.â
âHow would they know?â
âWhat do you mean?â
âHow would they know it was an Eagle?â
He shrugged. âMaybe he had on his uniform.â
Jazz snorted. âRight. If I wanted to sneak into a locker room and steal stuff from a rival team, I would definitely wear my uniform.â
He had to admit that she was thinking logically. Dash Marlowe would approve.
âOkay. Whatâs
your
brilliant plan, then?â
She smiled. âAre we partners?â
Milo considered. On the one hand, they
were
her brotherâs socks. And Jazz did seem pretty smart. But he didnât like her know-it-all attitude. And besides, what kind of private eye wore purple flowered clogs?
âWeâd make a fantastic team,â she said. âIâll be the brains, and you can be the . . . uh . . .â She frowned. âWell, Iâm sure you can help.â
Humph. That settled it. âI donât need a partner,â he told her. âIâm going to solve this case all by myself.â
âEthan, do you have to be such a slowpoke?â Milo grumbled. Why did his mom pick today to make him babysit his brother?
âYouâd be slow, too, if you had a ten-ton tail,â Ethan told him.
Milo rolled his eyes. He bet Dash Marlowe wouldnât solve so many cases if he had to drag along a little kid who thought he was a dinosaur.
When they reached the high