The Case of the Disappearing Dogs Read online

  Corey frowned, thinking. “Makes sense. A criminal might break a glass window or door to get in somewhere. Or it might be dark, so he’d bump into a vase or something and break it.”

  “The trick,” Ben continued, “is to match the glass at the crime scene with glass on the subject.”

  “Right,” Hannah said. “So what kind of analysis can you do on glass to try to make a match?”

  Corey flipped through his notes again. “Oh! I got this. Um, you can check the color of the glass. Whether or not it reflects light. And its shape, like whether or not it’s curved.”

  “You can also analyze the glass’s density,” Ben said, nodding in agreement. “And its chemical makeup.”

  “Correct,” Hannah confirmed. “Miss Hodges also talked about how you can try to put two pieces of broken glass together to see if they fit, like pieces of a puzzle.”

  Corey looked confused. “You know what part I don’t get? All that stuff about the cracks in a piece of glass. I sort of get that you can look at a piece of glass and figure out which way a bullet went through it, but I don’t really see how.”

  “What have you got in your notes?” Hannah asked, craning her neck to see what Corey had written in his notebook.

  “Umm . . . some doodles of a bullet going through a window,” Corey said. “And then I drew this cool little bullet with arms, legs, and a face. And a cowboy hat.”

  Hannah and Ben laughed and then consulted their notes and tried to explain the way lines in a piece of broken glass can tell an investigator a lot about how the glass broke. Ben even found a cracked picture frame and put it under the microscope, so they could look at the fracture lines. By the time they were finished, Corey understood the lesson perfectly.

  “So much for glass,” Corey declared, looking up from the microscope and stretching. “What’s next?”

  “Soil?” Hannah suggested.

  “Ah,” Corey said, grinning. “Now there’s a subject I know something about.”

  “Such as?” Ben asked.

  Corey stroked his chin, trying to look like a wise professor. “Soil,” he began seriously, “is another word for ‘dirt.’ Dirt is what makes things dirty. It’s mostly found on the ground or under grass or in the corners of my bedroom.”

  “Excellent,” Ben said. “You’re clearly an expert.”

  “Thank you,” Corey replied, with a slight bow of his head.

  “If you’re trying to match two soil samples, what might you compare?” Hannah asked.

  “Color,” Corey said. “With pretty much any material, you can always look at the color. When I take a forensics quiz, ‘color’ is almost always the first word I write in every answer.” He turned to Ben. “That’s a little test-taking tip for you. No charge.”

  “Thanks,” Ben said dryly.

  “You’re right about checking the color of the soil, Corey,” Hannah said. “What else?”

  “Texture,” Ben suggested. “Composition. You can measure the pH.”

  “What’s that?” Corey asked.

  “The acidity of the soil,” Ben explained.

  “Oh, right,” Corey said. “Like pH-balanced shampoo. Which makes a lot of sense. You wouldn’t want to wash your hair with acid. Unless you had really ugly hair.”

  “You could do a chemical analysis of the soil,” Ben added. “And you could examine the soil under a microscope.”

  “Shall we?” Corey said, gesturing toward one of Ben’s microscopes.

  “Okay,” Ben said. “But where will we get the soil? Should I go out in the yard and get some?”

  “No need,” Hannah said, smiling. “We’ve got Corey’s backpack.”

  “Very funny,” Corey said. Then he looked at his filthy backpack. “Actually, you’re right. Guess I shouldn’t have thrown it in the mud at the park!”

  When they put some dirt on a slide and examined it under the microscope, they could see some of the tiny crystals and minerals that made up the soil. It was amazing how complicated something as common as dirt could be when a person looked at it really closely.

  The three friends reviewed what Miss Hodges had told them about rope, wood, tape, and other materials. In what seemed like no time at all, Ben’s mom called up that it was getting late—time for Hannah and Corey to head home.

  “And for Ben to take out the trash!” she added, and Ben groaned. And then Hannah and Corey groaned, too, because the same chore awaited them at home.

  Chapter 3

  When Hannah walked in the front doorway of her house, Molly ran up to her, barking with joy.

  “Molly!” Hannah’s dad said sharply, coming pretty close to barking himself. “Please be quiet!”

  Hannah was able to stop Molly’s barking by petting her, stroking her soft fur all the way from her head to her tail.

  “So how was the study session?” Mrs. Miller asked.

  “Good, Mom!” Hannah replied. “We went over a lot of material. About materials.”

  “What kind of materials?” her mom asked. “You mean, like fabrics?”

  “Stuff you might find at a crime scene,” Hannah explained. “Wood, glass, soil . . .”

  “I don’t quite see the appeal of a crime scene,” Mrs. Miller said, frowning. “Has Club CSI got another case already?”

  Hannah shook her head. “No, there haven’t been any crimes at school lately. Unfortunately.”

  Hannah’s mom looked a little shocked. “I’m pretty sure it’s a good thing that your school’s been free of crimes. I’m relieved that your club hasn’t taken on another case.”

  “Why?” Hannah asked, reaching for the brush to use on Molly’s coat.

  “It makes me nervous having you investigate crimes,” Mrs. Miller said. “It seems dangerous.”

  Hannah brushed Molly’s back. When she reached a certain spot, Molly happily tapped the floor with her back paw. “We’re really careful,” Hannah assured her mother. “We wouldn’t do anything dangerous.”

  “I just don’t know why you now seem so much more interested in forensics than in ballet,” her mom continued. “What do you think, Dave?” she asked, nodding toward Hannah’s father.

  “I think it’s good for Hannah to have a lot of interests. And you’re not giving up on ballet, right, honey?” Mr. Miller replied, smiling at his daughter.

  “No, I’m just exploring other interests,” Hannah said. And then eager to change the subject she added, “I’m going to take Molly for her last trip outside before bed.”

  “Don’t walk too far,” Mrs. Miller advised. “It’s dark out.”

  “I won’t,” Hannah said, putting on her jacket.

  “Don’t worry,” Hannah heard her dad tell her mom. “She’s got Molly with her. She’ll be fine.”

  Hannah got Molly’s leash from the closet. The minute Molly saw it, she started wriggling with excitement about going outside again.

  The two of them headed out the front door. Molly wanted to go first, but Hannah made her wait until she went through the door. She’d seen a guy on TV talk about how important this was for establishing yourself as the pack leader.

  Outside, it was dark but not cold. Hannah and Molly headed down the sidewalk. Molly trotted along at Hannah’s side, always on her left.

  They passed a neighbor walking his dog. The neighbor smiled and nodded at Hannah. The two dogs looked at each other, but kept right on walking with their owners.

  “Molly, you want to run?” Hannah asked. The minute Hannah said Molly’s name, she looked up at Hannah. When she heard the word “run,” she started to move faster.

  Hannah laughed. “‘Run’ must be one of the two hundred words you understand,” she said as they started to sprint.

  Molly ran fast. It was hard to keep up with her. No matter how much exercise Hannah gave her dog during the day, she still had lots of energy at night. She was out in front of Hannah, pulling the leash tight.

  They raced for a couple of blocks, but then Hannah was out of breath from trying to keep up with M
olly. “Okay, Molly,” she said, “let’s slow down.” They slowed from a run to a walk. Molly seemed a little disappointed, but at least this gave her more of a chance to sniff the sidewalk. And the fire hydrants. And the trees.

  After another block of walking, they turned around and headed back home. In the middle of the walk, Hannah let Molly run for one more block.

  As soon as they were back inside the house, Molly sat down, waiting for Hannah to unclip the leash from her collar. “Good girl,” Hannah said. She’d trained Molly to sit down as soon as she got back inside the house, and she was pleased whenever Molly remembered her training.

  Just as Hannah was heading upstairs to get ready for bed, her mom asked, “Hannah, did you remember to set out the garbage?” The garbage! She’d almost forgotten it was the night before trash day.

  “Sorry,” she replied. “I’ll go back out and do it right now.”

  “Thank you!” Mrs. Miller said. “I appreciate it.”

  Hannah walked through the kitchen and out the back door. As she crossed the yard to the gate, she thought about what her mother had brought up before.

  Hannah still loved ballet, but she had decided recently that she didn’t want to be a ballerina when she grew up. It seemed awfully hard to get into a ballet company, and then you could only dance for a few years until you were too old. Most ballerinas went on to teach dance when they got older, but that wasn’t what Hannah wanted to do when she grew up.

  She was much more interested in the idea of investigating crime scenes. She loved how all the different information came together. A clue here and a clue there, and you could figure out how the crime was committed. And maybe even who did it.

  Hannah opened the gate, got the trash can, and pulled it past the opened gate door. She rolled it through the yard, being careful not to bump against any of the safety lights lining the walkway. She’d forgotten to turn the lights on before she came outside, and they were a little hard to see in the dark.

  Still thinking about her future, she wheeled the trash can to the front curb.

  She set the garbage in place for the truck to pick up early the next morning. Then she went back inside the house, turned on the yard’s security lights and the walkway’s safety lights, and went to bed.

  Chapter 4

  Why am I dressed like a ballerina?” Hannah asked herself. The policemen and detectives all stared at her as she walked up to the crime scene.

  She wanted to start taking photos of the area inside the yellow caution tape, but realized she didn’t have her camera. Her ballerina costume didn’t have any pockets.

  A detective in a brown raincoat came up to her. “Are you here to investigate a crime scene or to dance Swan Lake?” he asked. The policemen all laughed. Hannah blushed. Then music started to play . . .

  Hannah woke from the dream to the sound of her alarm clock’s radio, tuned to her favorite radio station. That was weird, she thought. But then, pretty much all dreams are weird.

  Another thing was weird too. As she got up, she realized a sound was missing.

  Every morning, when she woke up, the first thing she heard was Molly outside her bedroom door. Her dog was eager to see her, so she’d bump the door with her nose. Nudge it with her head. Even whine a little. Anything to get Hannah to come out of her bedroom.

  But this morning, there was no noise at the door. No bumping. No nudging. No whining. Nothing.

  Where was Molly?

  Still a little sleepy, Hannah walked across her bedroom to the door and then opened it.

  No Molly.

  “Molly?” Hannah asked. “Where are you?” She looked up and down the upstairs hallway, but didn’t see any sign of her dog.

  “Molly, come!” Hannah called. “Come!” That usually brought Molly running. Hannah whistled loudly. That always brought Molly running. But not this time.

  “Hannah?” her mom called from downstairs. “Are you up?”

  “Yeah, Mom, I’m up,” Hannah answered. “Have you seen Molly?”

  “Come on downstairs,” her mom called.

  Hannah hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen. Her parents were both sitting at the table. Molly wasn’t there.

  From her parents’ faces, Hannah could tell something was wrong. “What’s the matter?” she asked. “Where’s Molly?”

  “She’s missing,” her dad said gently. “She’s not in the house, and she’s not in the yard.”

  Hannah felt her stomach lurch. Missing? She thought she was going to cry. “How?” she managed to say. “How can she be missing?”

  Mrs. Miller put her arm around Hannah’s shoulders. “The gate was open,” her dad explained. “She must have gone out into the yard through her doggy door and then just wandered out the open gate.”

  “Wandered?” Hannah said. “That doesn’t sound like Molly. Molly doesn’t wander.”

  Then Mr. Miller asked if Hannah might have accidentally left the gate open when she moved the trash can the night before. She shook her head. “I’m positive I closed the gate. Positive.”

  Hannah’s parents could see she was upset, so they didn’t push her about leaving the gate open. But Hannah could tell they didn’t believe her. She felt tears of frustration stinging her eyes.

  She was going to prove she didn’t.

  But even more important, she was going to get her dog back. “I think Club CSI just got a case,” she said, sounding determined.

  Before her parents could say anything more, Hannah ran upstairs to text Ben and Corey, telling them that Molly was missing. And that she was pretty sure someone must have opened the gate and dog-napped her dog.

  A moment later Hannah’s phone rang, and it was Ben. He told her how sorry he was that Molly was missing, but said that Club CSI would find her for sure. “We’ll start our investigation right after school,” he promised.

  “I wish I didn’t have to go to school today,” Hannah said sadly. “I wish I could just spend the whole day searching for Molly. I hope whoever took her is taking good care of her. I’m so worried.”

  “It’ll be okay,” Ben reassured her. “But I think you should secure the crime scene to make sure it isn’t disturbed.”

  Hannah thought that was a good idea. She thanked Ben, told him she’d see him at school, and hung up.

  She wanted to secure the crime scene right away. She didn’t want anyone messing up any clues that might lead to Molly’s recovery. But she didn’t have any yellow crime-scene tape. There wasn’t time to go to a store. She wasn’t sure which store sold crime-scene tape, anyway.

  What could she use? She looked around her room.

  A few minutes later Hannah’s mom was surprised to look out the kitchen window to see her daughter tying pink ribbon around the gate.

  “Why is Hannah tying ballet slipper ribbons around the gate?” she asked her husband. “Is it some kind of tribute to Molly, like tying a yellow ribbon around a tree until someone comes home?”

  Mr. Miller looked out the window. “No,” he said. “I’m pretty sure our daughter is using pink ribbons from her ballet slippers to secure the crime scene.”

  “Crime?” Mrs. Miller repeated. “What crime? Hannah left the gate open, and Molly ran away. That’s a mistake, or an accident, but it’s not a crime.”

  Mr. Miller shook his head. “I don’t think that’s how Hannah sees it,” he said.

  Outside, Hannah finished tying the pink ribbons around the gate. There, she thought to herself. That’ll have to do until we can investigate thoroughly after school.

  As she headed inside to get ready for school, she thought for the millionth time, Where is Molly?

  Chapter 5

  At school Hannah met Corey and Ben near the end of a hallway that didn’t get used much anymore. It was a good place to talk. They usually sat on the floor by the old wooden display cases full of sports trophies. But today they were standing. Hannah was too upset to sit. She paced.

  “It’s just not like Molly to run away,” Hannah said. “
She loves to be with us. If she could, she’d follow me around all day. She’d even come with me to school.”

  “She’s probably smarter than some of the kids in my homeroom,” Corey joked. He could tell Hannah was feeling really bad about her missing dog, and he wanted to say something funny to try to cheer her up.

  “Since she’s an Australian cattle dog, I’ll bet she likes to keep you and your family all together, like a little herd of sheep,” Ben suggested. He thought maybe he could make Hannah feel better by distracting her with interesting facts. It always worked for him.

  “I definitely didn’t leave the gate open,” Hannah said firmly. “Someone opened it and took Molly. I’m sure she didn’t run away!”

  Ben wasn’t positive about this theory, since they didn’t have all the facts yet. But he didn’t want to disagree with Hannah out loud. It’d probably just upset her more. “We’ll find her,” he said.

  “I can sympathize,” Corey said. “Once I had a pet frog run away. Well, hop away.”

  “Molly didn’t run away,” Hannah repeated. “Someone took her.”

  “Come on,” Ben said, realizing there was nothing he or Corey could say to make Hannah feel better. “If we don’t hurry, we’ll be late to forensics.”

  “Today we’re going to continue working on analysis of materials found at a crime scene,” Miss Hodges said, standing at the front of the classroom. “I’m sure you all reviewed the chapter in your textbook last night.”

  Some students nodded. Others sat quietly, hoping to avoid being called on.

  “Let’s start with a very common material we see all around us: wood,” she went on. “If you were trying to match wood from a crime scene with wood found on a suspect, or in their house, what might you compare first?”

  “The color,” Corey said, giving Ben a quick smile.

  “Yes, you could start with the color,” Miss Hodges agreed. She wrote “color” on the dry-erase board. “Color is one of the first things we see when we’re doing a macroanalysis. Remember, ‘macro’ means ‘large’—the kind of things we can see with our eyes, without having to use a magnifying glass or a microscope.”