The Case of the Fire Alarm by Dori Hillestad Butler, Jeremy Tugeau

1
Starting School
    Hello!
    My name is Buddy.
    I used to be a detective. I used to solve mysteries with my old human, Kayla. But Kayla moved to Springtown, and now I have new humans. Their names are Connor and Mom.
    I’m giving up the detective business because I have a new job to think about.

    I’m going to be a THERAPY DOG! That means I’m going to sit, lie down, stay, and come when I’m called. I’ll walk nicely next to Mom, and I won’t pick up treats on the floor unless someone says I can. I won’t even speak to other dogs. And I’ll make friends with lots and lots and lots of humans.
    I also get to ride IN THE CAR every time I go to my job. In fact, I am IN THE CAR right now. I LOVE the car. It’s my favorite thing!
    And I’m sitting next to Connor. I LOVE Connor. He’s my favorite boy!
    “Ew! Buddy!” Connor says, wiping his face. “No lick!”
    Connor, Mom, and I are all on our way to SCHOOL. I LOVE school. It’s my favorite place! It’s where Connor and Mom go every day. And now I get to go there every day, too, because that’s where my new job is.
    Except ... the car is stopping and we are not at school. We’re at Mouse’s house. Why are we stopping at Mouse’s house?
    I stick my head out the window. “Mouse!” I call. “Hey, Mouse! Are you coming to school with us?”
    Mouse is my friend. He’s a dog, not a mouse. In fact, he’s the biggest, loudest dog on our street. Hey, maybe he’s going to be a therapy dog, too!
    Mouse pokes his head out of his doghouse. “NO, I’M NOT GOING TO SCHOOL,” he says. It sounds like he’s yelling, but he’s not. He talks this loud all the time. “THERE’S A NEW BOY AT MY HOUSE. HE’S THE ONE WHO’S GOING TO SCHOOL. NOT ME.”
    “You have a new boy?” I say.
    “YES. MY HUMANS JUST BROUGHT HIM HOME YESTERDAY.”
    Mouse’s humans bring home new boys and girls a lot. I don’t know where they get them all. Most of the kids are nice, but the last one they had threw rocks at Mouse.
    “Is this a nice boy?” I ask nervously.
    “OF COURSE HE’S A NICE BOY,” Mouse says.
    I think Mouse forgot about the kid who threw rocks.
    I see Mouse’s new boy, but I can’t smell him yet. He’s walking toward our car with Jack. Jack is the alpha human at Mouse’s house. He smells like cars and gasoline.
    The boy is about Connor’s size, and he has long, shaggy hair. There’s something shiny in his right earlobe.
    Mom rolls down her window when he and Jack get close.
    “Good morning, Sarah,” Jack says to Mom. “This is our new foster son, Michael.”
    “Nice to meet you, Michael,” Mom says. She tilts her head toward the backseat. “This is my son, Connor. I think you two are in the same grade.”
    Jack opens the back door, and Michael climbs in next to me.
    “Hey,” Connor says.
    Michael just grunts.
    I sniff Michael all over. He smells like peanut butter toast and dirt and ... I’m not sure what else. I hope he’s not another rock thrower.
    Mom waves goodbye to Jack and backs out of their driveway.
    “So,” Connor says to Michael, “where are you from?”
    “Minneapolis,” Michael says, gazing out the window.
    “I’m from Los Angeles,” Connor says. “I just moved here, too. My mom and dad got divorced, and my dad is still in California.”
    Michael doesn’t say anything to that, so Connor asks another question. “What do you like to do?”
    Michael shrugs.
    “Do you play baseball?” Connor asks. “Basketball? Soccer?”
    Michael shrugs again. I don’t think he’s much of a talker.
    Connor keeps trying. “What about music? Do you play an instrument? Do you like to read? Do art? Play computer games?”
    “I like ghost stories,” Michael says finally. “Books ... movies ... anything with ghosts in it.”
    “Yeah?” Connor says. “Then you’ll like our school. We’ve got a ghost!”
    A ghost?
    “Connor!” Mom makes why-would-you-say-such-a-thing eyes at Connor in the rearview mirror.
    “What?” he says. “It’s true.