A Spy in the White House (4 page)

“This is spooking me out,” Marshall whispered. “There has to be a federal law about breaking into the presidents office.”

“We didn’t break in, Marsh,” KC said. “Besides, next week, I’ll be living in this place.”

“Yeah, if we’re both not living in jail!” Marshall said.

Suddenly Marshall grabbed KC’s hand and yanked her down behind the president’s desk.

KC started to protest, but Marshall’s hand was across her mouth. She looked at him, trying to figure out what was going on. Marshall’s eyes were as big as pancakes.

Then KC understood. She heard footsteps whisper across the carpet. She saw a shadow fall on the wall behind her.

Someone else was checking out the Oval Office!

KC and Marshall froze behind the desk. They hardly breathed as they heard papers being moved above their heads. Then the shadow moved away.

KC heard the office door open, then close. She crawled from behind the desk and raced for the door.

“What’re you doing?” Marshall asked.

“I want to see who that was!” KC hissed. “And what they stole off the president’s desk!”

KC slowly eased the door open. She stuck her head out, then back in, like a redheaded turtle.

“It’s the vice president!” KC said.

Marshall blinked. “So? She can go into the Oval Office if she wants,” he said.

“Come on!” KC said. “Let’s follow her.”

Walking as quietly as possible, the kids sneaked after the vice president. She left the building and walked toward the employee parking lot. KC and Marshall followed. When she sat on a bench and took out her cell phone, they hid behind some bushes.

“What’s she doing?” Marshall asked.

“Talking on her phone again,” KC said.

Suddenly they heard a roar. A motorcycle pulled up in front of the bench. When the driver removed his helmet, the kids saw that it was Arnold.

The vice president stood up and slipped her cell phone into her pocket.
From her bag, she took out a small package and handed it to Arnold. They spoke for a minute. Then he put on his helmet and zoomed out of the parking lot. After a few seconds, the vice president hurried back into the building.

“They must both be in on it!” KC said, stepping out from behind the bushes. “Whatever she took off the presidents desk, she just gave it to Arnold!”

“And he’ll give it to Darla Darling,” Marshall said.

KC nodded. “We know it now, but how do we prove it?” she asked.

“I can’t prove anything on an empty stomach,” Marshall said.

“Okay, come on,” KC said. “How can you eat? Don’t you feel bad? I really like Arnold and the vice president.”

“I like them, too,” Marshall said. Then his stomach rumbled.

In the presidents kitchen, KC and Marshall sat down at the table. Marshall peeled a banana and started to eat.

George was lying on the counter next to the refrigerator. His bushy tail swept back and forth.

Both kids watched George as he reached for a mouse refrigerator magnet.

The magnet fell to the floor. In a flash, George pounced. He grabbed the mouse in his paws and began chewing on the plastic.

“No, George!” KC said. “Spit it out!” She got down on her knees and moved toward the cat. George jumped up and walked away.

“Now what did you do with that silly
magnet?” KC asked, looking at the floor.

“Maybe it’s in his mouth,” Marshall said. He slipped behind George and grabbed him.

KC sat on the floor beside Marshall and tried to make George open his mouth.

“Here it is,” Marshall said. “It’s stuck on his collar.”

He pulled the magnet loose and held it out to KC. But she was examining George’s collar.

“How could a magnet stick to a plastic collar?” she asked. Slowly, she slid the collar around, studying it closely.

Suddenly KC gasped. She yanked her hands away from the collar as if it were red-hot.

“What?” Marshall asked.

With shaking hands, KC unbuckled George’s collar. She opened a drawer, laid the collar inside, and quietly slid the drawer shut. Then she scooted down next to Marshall again.

“KC, are you gonna tell me what’s going on?” Marshall asked. “You look all funny.”

“That plastic collar has a round metal thing on it,” KC whispered. “That’s what the magnet was sticking to.”

“So? Why do you look so weird?” Marshall asked.

“That piece of metal is a bug,” KC said. “A listening device!”

Marshall blinked about seven times. “So … someone bugged George? A
cat
is the spy in the White House?”

KC nodded. “George is usually with the president. That must be how the spy found out all the wedding stuff and reported it to Darla Darling!” she said.

“But who did it?” Marshall asked.

KC shrugged. “It could be anyone who can get close to George,” she said. The cat looked at Marshall and meowed.

“So the snitch isn’t Arnold or the vice president?” asked Marshall.

“It could still be one of them,” KC said. “But I doubt it. They’re both here all the time, so why would they have to bug George? But it could be anyone else who works here.”

Marshall groaned. “What do we do now? I sure wish the president were here!” he said.

“Well, he’s not, but you just gave me a great idea!” KC said. “We can pretend the
president is here. And I think I know a way to make the spy come here, too!”

“Am I gonna like this?” Marshall asked, looking worried.

KC beamed. “You’re gonna hate it!”

She opened the drawer, lifted out the collar, and carefully placed her hand over the little metal bug. Then she slid next to Marshall. “Just go along with whatever I say,” she whispered in his ear.

Marshall gulped, staring at the collar. “You mean we’re gonna talk to that thing?”

KC nodded. “Pretend you’re in a school play,” she said.

“Oh, great,” Marshall said. “The last time I was in a play, I got so nervous I nearly puked.”

“Well, no puking this time,” KC said.
“We have to sound normal. Are you ready?”

Marshall swallowed. “I guess so,” he muttered.

KC took her hand off the bug. “Isn’t it exciting that Mom and the president are eloping today?” she said with her mouth near the collar.

KC nudged Marshall’s foot and placed the collar in his lap.

Marshall’s mouth fell open. He stared at the collar as if it were a rattlesnake. He tried to swallow, but his mouth was dry.

KC kicked his foot again. She mouthed the words,
Say something! Someone is listening!

Marshall took a deep breath before he spoke into the collar. “Yeah, but it’s too b-bad they’re n-not having their big
w-wedding. I was really looking forward to all that c-cake and ice cream.”

KC smiled at Marshall and took the collar back. “They have to do it this way to make sure Darla Darling doesn’t find out the new honeymoon spot,” she said, speaking into the little listening device.

“What time are they eloping?” asked Marshall, taking the collar back. He had stopped stuttering. KC could tell he was getting into it now.

KC glanced up at the kitchen clock. It was almost noon. “Two o’clock,” she said, leaning over the collar.

“How are they getting there?” Marshall asked, trying to stop himself from cracking up. “In the president’s private plane?”

KC snatched the cat’s collar out of Marshall’s hands.

“The president doesn’t want anyone to recognize him,” she said. “He’ll be in a taxi and wearing a baseball cap and dark glasses. Mom will have a red scarf over her hair. He’s picking her up at the side entrance, near those tall bushes.”

Marsh started to giggle, so KC put the collar back in the drawer.

“That was so cool!” Marshall said. “I feel like we’re in a James Bond movie!”

“I don’t think James Bond giggles,” KC said.

“Now what do we do?” Marshall asked.

“We wait till two o’clock,” KC said. “And keep our fingers crossed that the spy overheard us and comes to see the president and Mom eloping!”

KC told Marshall the rest of her plan.

Marshall grinned. “I like it,” he said.
“Except for one thing. What happens when the spy gets here at two and there’s no president and no taxi and no eloping?”

KC looked at him blankly. “Oh,” she said. “I didn’t think of that.”

Marshall sighed. “Good thing James Bond is here to help you.” He stood up and reached for the phone. “Here,” he said. “Call a taxi.”

At ten minutes before two o’clock, KC and Marshall slipped out of the White House. They hid in the bushes near the presidents private driveway. KC had her camera.

“What if the spy doesn’t show up?” Marshall asked.

“If the spy heard us talking, he or she won’t be able to resist!” KC said. “When the president elopes, that’s big news! And I’m sure Darla would pay for it.”

She looked at her watch. “The taxi should be here any minute. I hope Yvonne is watching.”

As if by magic, a taxi slowed and pulled to a stop only a few yards from where KC and Marshall were hiding.

The driver got out and opened the taxi trunk. He was wearing a baseball cap and dark glasses. Following KC’s instructions, the driver whistled.

“Get ready,” KC mumbled to Marshall.

A woman in a trench coat and red scarf walked briskly out of the side entrance of the White House. She was carrying a small suitcase and wore sunglasses.

“Yvonne looks just like your mother!” Marshall marveled.

“Yeah,” KC said, grinning.

Just as Yvonne reached the taxi, KC and Marshall heard a roar. A black motorcycle zoomed up and screeched to a stop five feet behind the taxi. The person on
the bike wore a black leather jacket and pants and a matching helmet. A visor hid the riders face.

“It’s Arnold!” Marshall whispered.

The motorcycle rider straddled the bike. With hands hidden by black leather gloves, he flipped up the visor.

KC saw lipstick and dark curly hair. “No, it’s the vice president!” she said.

With the motor still running, the cyclist pulled a small camera from a pocket and snapped a picture of the taxi driver and Yvonne.

KC jumped out of the bushes, her own camera aimed at the motorcycle. “Smile!” she yelled.

The startled rider whipped around and looked at KC. They were only a few feet apart.

KC let out a gasp.

The motorcycle rider wasn’t Arnold.

It wasn’t the vice president, either.

“Hi, Ms. Darling,” KC said.

Darla Darling glared at KC, then flipped down her visor and gunned her engine. With squealing tires, the bike and its rider disappeared into the traffic.

An hour later, the president and KC’s mom came back. Yvonne brought them all lemonade in the president’s private kitchen. George—without his collar—sat on the president’s lap. He purred as his ears were stroked.

“I hope you don’t mind me wearing your scarf and sunglasses,” Yvonne said to Lois.

“Mind? I think it was a wonderful
idea!” Lois said. “Thank you for your help.”

“You’re very welcome,” Yvonne said, blushing, as she left the room.

“So you told the taxi driver to dress like me, and Yvonne pretended to be your mother,” the president said. “And when Darla heard we were eloping today, she shot over here to get the scoop.”

KC nodded. “I guess Darla put the bug on George’s collar when he got away from us in the rose garden. She must have known that was the only way to bug the White House.”

“So it was Darla all the time,” KC’s mom said. “There was no caller with a scratchy voice. She sat in her office and listened to us talking, then wrote her columns.”

“And my own
cat
was the spy!” the president said.

Marshall laughed. “We knew the spy had to be someone near you,” he said. “And George is always sitting on your lap.”

KC looked at Marshall. “Do you remember when I smelled something minty on George’s fur?” she asked. “It was from Darla’s mouthwash.”

“Mary Kincaid will get quite a chuckle when I tell her you kids thought she might be the motorcycle-riding spy,” the president said.

“Do you have to tell her?” KC asked, embarrassed.

“Don’t worry,” said the president. “She’ll be thrilled to know that you kids came to the rescue.”