Who’s Who

The Case of the Bothersome Brother

The Mystery of the Missing Moose Mice

The Secret of the Stolen Spectacles

The Search for the Buried Backpack

The Mystery of the Missing Mr. Chips

The Case of the Dog-Bone Bandit

The Case of the Troublesome Toilet

The Secret of the Suspicious Sandwich

The Case of the Curious Cookie Crumbs

The Case of the Kissing Canine

Judy Moody and the Mystery of the Missing Mood Ring

10 Things You May Not Know About Megan McDonald

10 Things You May Not Know About Peter H. Reynolds

It was a dark and stormy night. Rain slashed the window. Lightning flashed and thunder crashed. Spooky shadows like giant teeth danced across the walls.

Tick-tock, tick-tock went the old clock, thumping like a scary heartbeat. Quiet as a ghost, she climbed the dark, dark stairs. In her bare feet, she tiptoed down the dark, dark hallway to the dark, dark door. She tapped one, two, three times, signaling in Morse code. Just then, the door creaked open.

Knock-knock.

“AAHHH!” screamed Judy from under the covers of her top bunk bed. She let go of the Mood Libs tablet she’d been writing in. It sailed through the air, bonking Stink on the noggin.

“Ouch!” yelled Stink, rubbing his head. “Watch the brains! You’re gonna give me an egg on my head.”

“You already are an egghead, Stink,” Judy teased.

“Well, you didn’t have to throw the book at me.”

“At least it wasn’t the encyclopedia. That’s what you get for scaring the pants off me while I was writing a spooky Mood Libs story.”

“Why are you under the covers? It’s the middle of the day.”

“Nancy Drew says a person should never be afraid of the dark. So I was practicing.”

“Why do you have a flashlight?”

“A good detective always keeps a flashlight under her pillow.”

“Does Nancy Drew do that?”

“Hel-lo! Haven’t you read The Message in the Hollow Oak?”

“I’m not a Nancy Drew cuckoo-head like some people!”

“Can I help it if I’m trying to read all fifty-six original Nancy Drew classics?”

Stink waved the Mood Libs book at her. “Does Nancy Drew throw stuff at her brother, too?”

“Nancy Drew doesn’t have a brother. But if she did, I’m sure she’d throw stuff if he scared the jeepers out of her.”

“Jeepers?”

“That’s Nancy Drew talk, Stink. Get a clue.”

“Do Nancy Drew mysteries have any stuff that blows up? Good mysteries have stuff that blows up. Like boats or cakes or maybe exploding motorcycles?”

“No, Stink. Nancy Drew mysteries have old clocks and hidden diaries and squeaky steps and stuff.”

“Oh,” said Stink. He did not sound one teeny bit scared. He sounded a teeny bit bored.

“But Nancy Drew mysteries do have stuff like exploding oranges and flaming rockets and spooky old mansions. Lots of mansions. And they are all haunted, and one time Nancy Drew almost gets crushed when the ceiling falls on her. Another time she’s chased by a phantom horse. She even gets strangled by a giant python. No lie.”

“Exploding pythons are cool,” said Stink, getting mixed up. “Can I look at one of your Nancy Drews?”

“Over there.” Judy pointed to a pile of stuff on her desk. “Under my sock monkey.”

Stink lifted up the sock monkey. “Under your sock monkey is a pillow.”

“Under the pillow,” Judy told him.

Stink lifted the pillow. “Under your pillow is nothing but a big fat dictionary.”

“Under the dictionary.”

Stink lifted up the dictionary. “It’s a mystery just trying to find your Nancy Drew book.” Under the dictionary was Nancy Drew book #43: The Mystery of the 99 Steps. “Why’s it under all this stuff ?”

“Well, um . . . don’t laugh, but —”

“Ha! Ju-dy is scare-dy!” Stink chimed. “You hid it under here because it’s scary. You’re scared of a Nancy Drew nightmare!”

“Can I help it if I have an overachieving imagination?” asked Judy. “I double-dare you to read it. In the dark.”

Stink shivered.

“See, Nancy’s friend has this weird dream about these creepy ninety-nine steps, so Nancy goes to France to try to find them and solve the mystery of her friend’s dream. It’s spine-chilling. Says so right on the back. Books don’t lie, Stink.”

“Maybe you’ll have a bad dream from reading the book. Then I can go to France to solve the mystery of your bad dream . . . and see the Eiffel Tower.”

“The Eiffel Tower is so beside the point, Stink. But you just gave me a genius idea. I’m going to solve a mystery. A real-life, Nancy-Drew, scare-your-pants-off mystery. For sure and absolute positive.”

“What’s the mystery?”

“I don’t know yet. I have to find one first.”

“Do you have to go to France to find it?”

“Stink, you don’t have to leave the country to find a mystery. There could be one right in your own backyard.”

Stink looked out the window into the yard. “All I see out there is your purple jump rope, a pink-and-white soccer ball, your bike with the flat tire, and the blue tent we use for the Toad Pee Club. The only mystery is why Mom and Dad don’t make you pick up your stuff.”

“Ha, ha. Very funny. A mystery is out there, Stink. Maybe not in the backyard exactly. But it could be right under our noses. All we have to do is pay attention.”

Just like that, she, Judy Moody, went looking for a mystery.

If a person were going to solve a big fat mystery, she had to have a way-official Nancy Drew detective kit.

Flashlight? Check.

Notebook? Check.

Grouchy pencil? Check.

Pocket magnifying glass? Check.

Duck tape? Check.

Zip-top bag? Check.

“Let’s see,” Judy said out loud to herself. “All I need now is a disguise, some money, and a French dictionary.”

She went into the upstairs bathroom and came back with Mom’s makeup bag. Judy pulled out a tube of red lipstick, a compact, an eyebrow pencil, nail polish, tweezers, and a bobby pin.

“Ooh, cool,” said Stink, coming into her room. “Is all this stuff for a disguise?”

“Stink, don’t you know anything about detective work? Everybody knows lipstick is for writing SOS messages.”

“Oh, I get it. Like if something exploded and your leg is pinned under a piece of metal, and you go to yell ‘help’ in French, but you lost your French dictionary, you write SOS in red lipstick or something?”

“Or something,” said Judy. “Lipstick is good for fake blood, too. Like one time, Nancy Drew smeared lipstick and pretended she was bleeding to trick the bad guys so she could escape. There are tons of bad guys, like Snorky, Stumpy, Sniggs, and Grumper.”

Stink snorted. “They sound like dwarves, not bad guys.”

“And in The Phantom of Pine Hill, there’s an evil fortune-teller named Madame Tarantella.”

“Madame Tarantula. Cool. Can I try writing in lipstick?” Stink asked.

“It’s only for emergencies, Stink,” said Judy.

“What about all that other junk?” Stink asked.

“The powder in the compact can be used to dust for fingerprints, and the little mirror is for spying on somebody. The eyebrow pencil is for this.” Judy drew a quick mustache on Stink.

“Hey!” said Stink, but instead of wiping his lip, he looked in the mirror.

Judy held up a little black metal hair clip. “Rule Number One: Never leave home without a bobby pin.”

“What’s a bobby pin?” Stink asked.

“This baby is for picking locks.”

“Can I try?”

“Knock yourself out,” Judy said, handing him a bobby pin. Judy loaded all the detective stuff into her backpack.

Stink picked up Judy’s secret diary, stuck the bobby pin in the keyhole, and turned it. The diary popped open.

“Sweet!” said Stink. “It really works.”

Judy looked up. “Give it!” she said, grabbing the diary back.

“You sure Nancy Drew doesn’t have a little brother? Little brothers make good detectives, too.”

“I’m sure. Just a dad named Mr. Drew; her two best chums, George and Bess; her dog, Togo; her cat, Snowball; and a shiny blue, way-cool convertible!”

“Nancy Drew is old enough to drive a real car?”

“Tell me about it. Who wouldn’t want to ride around in a convertible solving mysteries all day?” Judy said. “Makeup? Check. There. I’m done!”

“What about the money? Where’s the money? You forgot the money!”

“N-no, I didn’t.”

Stink peered into Judy’s backpack and pulled out a plastic bag full of coins. “Not my state quarters. And my president dollars! I collected these forever.”

“C’mon, Stinker. If I get locked in an attic or a closet or the trunk of a car, I’ve gotta have some money to bribe the bad guys to let me out.”

“Just pick the lock with your bobby pin thingie,” said Stink. Judy shot him a sourball stare.

“Fine!” Stink sorted through his coins. “Here. You can have my American Samoa quarter. Because I don’t know where that is.”

“One lousy quarter? That’s not going to get me un-kidnapped.”

“Okay! My Martin Van Buren president dollar. But only because he’s not James Madison. And because I don’t know who he is.”

“Gee, thanks, Stinkerbell.”

“Is it time to go find the mystery now?” asked Stink.

“Almost,” said Judy. “I’m hungry. I need a snack. Rule Number One of being a good detective is never solve a mystery on an empty stomach.”

“I thought Rule Number One was the bobby pin thing.”

“Do you have to listen to everything I say? Stink, turn around so you can’t see where I hid my candy.” Stink had found the candy hidden in her sock drawer. Stink had found the candy hidden in her doctor kit. Stink had found the candy hidden in her five hundred–piece puzzle of the Tower of London. But no way would he find the candy hidden in her double-secret, triple-tricky hiding place.

Stink turned around. He covered his eyes.

“Cover your ears, too,” said Judy.

“I only have two hands.”

“Try not to listen, then.” Judy took out her Build-a-Moose that she had made at the mall with Grandma Lou last Christmas. Judy had filled his tummy with a bag of gummy candy instead of stuffing. She reached inside and pulled out . . . an old striped sock?

“Stink!” said Judy. “You’ll never believe what I found.”

Stink turned back around and looked. “A sock?” He tried to sound fake-surprised.

“Not just a sock,” said Judy. “A sock and a mystery. Right here in our own backyard.”

Stink did not say a word. Stink stared at the floor.

“A real-life, honest-to-jeepers, Nancy-Drew-who-doesn’t-have-any-brothers mystery.” Judy waved the sock in the air.

“The Mystery of the Missing Sock?” Stink asked.

“More like the Case of the Stolen Candy,” said Judy. “I hid a bag of gummy candy in my moose’s tummy. But now the candy’s not there. Presto-change-o gonzo, just like that.”

Stink scratched his head. He snapped his fingers. “I bet Mouse got into your moose and ate your mice!”

“Interesting,” said Judy. “How did you know they were gummy mice, Stink? I said gummy candy. I never said gummy mice.”

“Moose. Mouse. Mice. My tongue got twisted. And I know how much you like those gummy mice. More than gummy scabs and gummy frog legs.”

“Stink, take off your shoes.”

“Huh? Why? But —”

“Just do it.”

Stink took off his sneakers.

“Aha! Just as I thought! You have two different socks on. And one of the socks you’re wearing matches this sock.” She held up the striped sock. “The Case of the One-Striped-Sock-Wearing Candy Stealer is solved. Stink Moody, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“I sure could use that lipstick now,” said Stink.

“What for?”

“For writing SOS. You said that when a person is in trouble, he can use the lipstick for writing SOS.”

The next morning, Judy went to Virginia Dare School, third grade, Class 3T, like always. She sat in the second row, like always. Mr. Todd started telling Class 3T about the day ahead, like always. Except something was different.

Mr. Todd held a paper at arm’s length and squinted at it. “We have a special guest coming to school this afternoon,” he told them.

Rocky raised his hand. “Mr. Todd,” he said, “something about you is different today.” Judy turned to look at Rocky and tapped her head as if to say, ESP. You read my mind!

“Are you growing a beard?” Rocky asked.

“I’m afraid not,” said Mr. Todd, scratching his chin.

“You got taller?” said Jordan.

“I don’t think so,” said Mr. Todd.

“You’re growing gray hair!” said Bradley.

“You kids are giving me a few gray hairs,” Mr. Todd teased.

Judy looked at Mr. Todd. Something was different. And she would use her best Nancy Drew super-sleuth amazing detective powers to figure out the Case of the Different Mr. Todd.

Judy Moody studied him up, down, and sideways, like he was a shiny-wrapped Christmas present. Mr. Todd did not have a new tie or a new haircut or new shoes.

Mr. Todd leaned on his desk and told the class about the special guest: a policeman named Officer So-and-So and his dog So-and-So, who were coming to school that afternoon to talk about Such and Such. Mr. Todd squinted at his paper again.

That’s when it hit her. Judy’s super-amazing, mystery-solving powers figured out that Mr. Todd looked different because he was not wearing his glasses.

“Mr. Todd got contacts!” Judy called out.

“I did not get contact lenses,” said Mr. Todd, squinting at Judy.

Crumbs! Judy had thought she’d cracked the case.

“But I seem to have misplaced my glasses.”

Misplaced? Maybe. Lost? Hardly. Mr. Todd never took his glasses off. Judy looked around Class 3T. Which kid looked like a third-grade glasses stealer? Bradley? Jordan? Anya? Owen? Jessica Finch, Super-Smart Stellar Speller? Was she the Super-Secret Glasses Stealer? Jessica Finch did not even wear glasses. But maybe, just maybe, she stole some so she could look even smarter.

Rare! A mini-mystery, on a school day, right here in Class 3T: the Mystery of the Teacher’s Missing Eyeglasses.

She, Judy Drewdy, was on the case.

During morning recess, Judy stayed inside so she could investigate. She took out her flashlight and magnifying glass and searched on desks and under chairs. She searched in cubbies and in plastic tubbies. She searched behind the computer and the fish tank and the class guinea-pig cages.

All Detective Judy found were a sheet of wizard stickers (Rocky’s), a glue stick (Frank’s), and a pink-pig paper clip that could only belong to one person — Jessica Finch, Pig Lover. Judy put the stickers in Rocky’s folder, the glue stick in Frank’s desk, and the piggy paper clip on —

Wait just a Nancy Drew minute! Eagle Eye Moody spotted a clue on Jessica Finch’s desk. Right on top of the spelling homework was Jessica’s pink-piggy lunch tote. Peeking out from an unzipped corner was what looked like one stolen pair of grown-up teacher glasses.

Judy unzipped the lunch box the rest of the way. She got out her magnifying glass and turned on her flashlight.

Well, lookee here. Scoo-bee-doo! Mr. Todd’s missing glasses!

She, Judy Drewdy, had solved the crime, just like Nancy Drew. She would save the day and give the gift of sight back to Mr. Todd.

Just then, Jessica Finch came back into the classroom. “Hey! What are you doing with my lunch box?” she asked.

“Nothing,” said Judy, hiding the glasses behind her back.

“Mr. Todd!” Jessica tattled. “I think Judy Moody is stealing my lunch. She’s trying to take my pink chocolate cupcake!”

All eyes were on Judy Moody, Lunch Stealer, as the other third-graders filed back in. Fudge-a-roni! “I’m not the stealer. You are,” said Judy.

“Oh, yeah? Then let’s see what’s behind your back.”

“Girls? What seems to be the problem?” Mr. Todd asked. “Judy, do you have something you’d like to show us?” Judy Moody brought her hands out from behind her back. They were not holding a pink chocolate cupcake. They were holding . . . Mr. Todd’s glasses.

“Uh!” the whole class gasped.

“I didn’t steal them! Honest!” said Judy. “I found them in Jessica Finch’s lunch box. She stole them. And I know why — so you wouldn’t be able to see that she didn’t finish writing her spelling words five times.”

“I did, too!” Jessica flipped her paper over to show the words on the back.

“Nobody stole anything,” said Mr. Todd. “Jessica was showing me all the clever compartments inside her new lunch box this morning. I must have taken off my glasses to get a closer look.”

“And they ended up inside my lunch box!” said Jessica.

“Judy, you know better than to get into someone else’s personal things.”

“But I was on a case! And I did find your glasses.”

“That’s no excuse. You wouldn’t like Jessica going through your lunch box, would you? You need to apologize.”

“Sorry,” Judy mumbled. She, Judy Moody, was in a mood. A why-do-I-always-get-in-trouble mood.

“Okay, show’s over. Take your seats. Mystery solved.” Mr. Todd put his glasses back on. “Except for the mystery of why I can’t see through my glasses.”

Jessica Finch pointed and laughed. “Pink icing! From my cupcake.”

Mr. Todd swiped off the icing and licked his finger. He raised his eyebrows. He rubbed his glasses with a hankie. “Good as new,” said Mr. Todd.

Judy Moody, Frank, and Rocky sat in the second-to-front row, waiting for the all-school assembly to start.

“Why did you bring your backpack?” asked Frank.

“It’s not my backpack. It’s my detective kit,” Judy told her friends. “You never know when a mystery might pop up, just needing to be solved.”

“In the multipurpose room?” asked Rocky. Judy frowned.

“I can’t wait to meet Officer Mr. Chips,” said Frank.

“That’s a funny name,” said Judy.

“Not if you’re a dog,” Frank said, laughing.

“A police dog is coming here? To school?” Judy asked.

“Earth to Judy. Come in, Judy. Didn’t you listen to anything Mr. Todd told us this morning?” Rocky asked.

“Sorry,” said Judy. “I was on a case.”

“It’s a police puppy,” said Frank.

“Girls and boys,” the principal announced, “as you know, October is Crime Prevention Month. We are very pleased to have with us today two crime fighters: Officer Kopp and his partner, Mr. Chips.”

A policeman in a dark blue uniform with patches on his sleeves came onstage. He was leading a brown puppy on a leash. The puppy had blue eyes, floppy ears, and a shiny, wet nose. He was all legs, with huge puppy paws.

“Aw! So cute!” kids from the audience said all at once.

“I’m Officer Kopp, and this is Mr. Chips,” said the policeman. “Mr. Chips is a chocolate Lab. Labs are smart, friendly, dependable, and good-natured. He likes to run, fetch, and play ball. And he really likes kids.”

Officer Kopp showed the kids how Mr. Chips could chase after a ball and bring it back. Next, Mr. Chips carried an egg in his mouth all the way across the stage without breaking it! The crowd went wild.

“Mr. Chips is my best friend and my partner and the newest member of our K-9 team at the police department.” Officer Kopp scratched the dog’s head and patted him on the back.

“This little guy is learning to be a police dog. He’s being trained to help us sniff out bad guys, search buildings, and even locate stuff that’s been stolen. This guy’s sense of smell is so great that one day, Mr. Chips might help us catch a bank robber or he could find a missing child.”

“Mr. Chips lives near my house,” Jessica Finch bragged. “He wore a fancy collar in the Fourth of July parade, and I got to feed him dog treats!” It didn’t take a super-sleuth to figure out that Jessica Finch was Miss Know-It-All.

The audience clapped like crazy for Mr. Chips.

“Does he eat bones?” a first-grader asked.

“Mr. Chips eats mostly puppy food. And he likes doggie treats.”

“Does he live at the police station?” a fourth-grader asked.

“Nope. I’m his handler, so he lives at home with me and my family.”

“On my street!” Jessica Finch blurted.

Officer Kopp called on Stink. “Does he ride in your police car?”

“Mr. Chips likes riding in cars more than anything. Every morning, he barks at me, begging to go for a ride. It’s like he’s saying, ‘Car! Car! Car! Car! Car!’”

Officer Kopp stroked Mr. Chips’s ears. “Who’s a car dog? You are. Oh, yes, you are.” Mr. Chips gave Officer Kopp a giant slurp with his cherry-pink tongue.

The audience laughed. “And now I need some help from the audience,” said Officer Kopp. “Anybody have an object they can bring up onstage? How about you, the young lady with the backpack?”

“Who? Me?” Judy asked, jumping up with a big smile.

“Yes. Bring your backpack up here, and let’s give Mr. Chips a whiff. Since he’s at school today, we’ll give him a test. A super-sniffing IQ test.”

Judy climbed the steps to the stage. “This is my detective kit,” she told Officer Kopp. “For solving mysteries.”

“I like a person who’s prepared for anything,” said Officer Kopp, smiling. “Let’s see if Mr. Chips can solve a mystery, too. C’mon over and pet him. Then we’ll let him sniff your backpack to pick up the scent.”

Mr. Chips sniffed Judy from head to toe, then he licked Judy’s face all over with his pink slobbery tongue. Slurp, slurp.

“I hope you don’t mind dog kisses,” said Officer Kopp.

“Nope,” said Judy. “They tickle!”

Next, Mr. Chips sniffed Judy’s backpack all over. Finally, Officer Kopp held the backpack up to Mr. Chips’s nose and gave him a voice command. “Find.”

“Okay, I’ll take Mr. Chips backstage now. That will give you a chance to hide your backpack. It’s like a game of hide-and-seek. Ready?”

“Ready,” said Judy. Officer Kopp took Mr. Chips behind the thick velvet curtain. “No peeking, Mr. Chips!” Judy called over her shoulder.

Judy walked down the center aisle, snaking through the first-graders. She cut through the row in front of the second-graders and hopped right over Stink’s legs. Then she walked backward all the way to the center aisle.

“Hide it under Mr. Todd’s chair,” yelled some third-graders. But Judy only walked around Mr. Todd’s chair, then zigzagged through the fourth- and fifth-graders.

“Behind the bleachers!” kids yelled.

“Hide it in the basketball hoop!”

“Trash can! Trash can!”

Finally, she stopped in front of the closet where the gym teacher kept all the gym balls, jump ropes, and orange cones. Judy checked to make sure Mr. Chips wasn’t watching. Quietly, she opened the door. “Ooh-ee!” The closet was dusty and smelled like feet — Stink’s smelly sneakers times ten. Judy pinched her nose. “This smells so bad it’s giving me a nose wedgie.” The audience laughed like crazy.

In the closet sat a big wire basket loaded with soccer balls and basketballs, volleyballs and kickballs. Judy buried her backpack deep down in the middle of the pile of dusty, dirty balls. Judy shut the door silently behind her and returned to the stage.

Everybody hushed when Mr. Chips came out from behind the curtain. The puppy led Officer Kopp down the side steps. Then he padded down the center aisle, following Judy’s trail. He sniffed his way through the second grade, trotting up to Stink. He hopped over Stink’s legs and sped up the center aisle.

When he got to Mr. Todd’s chair, he ran in circles like crazy.

“He’s chasing his tail,” yelled Frank.

“Give him a chance,” somebody else yelled.

“C’mon, Mr. Chips,” Judy coaxed. “You can do it.” But Mr. Chips had stopped in his tracks. He looked confused.

“Give him a minute,” said Officer Kopp. “It’s not over yet.”

Suddenly, Mr. Chips raised his nose in the air. He sniffed left. He sniffed right. Zoom! He shot off again, zigzagging his way through the fourth-and fifth-graders. At last, he came to the door of the closet.

“Arf! Arf! Arf-arf-arf,” Mr. Chips barked at the door. Officer Kopp opened the door. Mr. Chips bounded in and knocked over the wire basket full of balls. Boing! Boing! Mr. Chips pawed his way through the bouncing balls. In no time, he was trotting up to Officer Kopp, Judy’s backpack hanging from his mouth.

The whole audience went cuckoo, clapping and cheering. “Good boy!” said Officer Kopp. Mr. Chips wagged his tail like crazy.

“Whoa.” The crowd buzzed.

“How’d he do that?”

“Wow.”

“It’s magic.”

Officer Kopp went back onstage with Mr. Chips and took a bow. “Sergeant Super-Sniffer! The best partner a guy could have. Thanks, Virginia Dare School. You’ve been a great audience!”

Mr. Chips hung out his tongue and wagged his windshield-wiper tail. From where Judy sat, it almost looked as if Mr. Chips were smiling.

The next day, and the day after that, all anybody could talk about at Virginia Dare School was Sergeant Super-Sniffer, aka Mr. Chips.

Then, late Friday afternoon, something happened. Something big. Judy was smack-dab in the middle of an important case — Nancy Drew book #15, that is: The Haunted Bridge — when the loudspeaker crackled. Judy jumped five feet and yelled, “Yurp,” wrecking the silent in silent reading.

“Teachers and students,” said Principal Tuxedo over the intercom. “I have an important announcement to make. Officer Kopp called to alert us that Mr. Chips has gone missing!” This was terrible news. Awful news. No-good, way-bad news. “The dog was last seen in the Bird Neck neighborhood on Abigail Lane at seven this morning.”

“That’s close to where I live,” said Judy.

“That’s my street,” said Jessica Finch, pointing at herself.

“Since we all met Mr. Chips just a few days ago and know what he looks like, Officer Kopp is asking us to please be on the lookout. If any of you super-sleuths out there spot Mr. Chips, call 1-800-MR-CHIPS right away. Thank you.”

Mr. Chips was missing! Escaped! Lost! This was just about probably the worst announcement in the history of principal announcements at Virginia Dare School.

Wait just a Nancy Drew minute. She, Judy Moody, was smack-dab in the middle of a real-life, not-book mystery! A missing-persons case. A missing-puppy case, that is. For sure and absolute positive! In fact, this was almost like the time in Nancy Drew: Girl Detective graphic novel #6 when a chimp named Mr. Cheeters, who was wearing a diamond necklace, went missing.

Maybe Mr. Chips didn’t escape or get lost. Maybe, just maybe, Mr. Chips was stolen! As in kidnapped. As in dognapped. Maybe, just maybe, Mr. Chips had been wearing a fancy-schmancy diamond doggy collar and some bad guy with an eye patch or a tattoo or a snaggle tooth wanted it!

While Judy hoped nothing bad had happened to Mr. Chips, she couldn’t help wishing for a mystery. A real-life Nancy Drew mystery. This was a case for Judy Moody, Girl Detective. Judy Drewdy!

WWNDD? What Would Nancy Drew Do? She would take a deep breath and use her detective thinking, that’s what. Judy wrote a note to all three members of the Toad Pee Club — Rocky, Frank, and Stink.

When they got to the Toad Pee Clubhouse after school, it wasn’t the Toad Pee Clubhouse anymore. It was the JUDY MOODY DETECTIVE AGENCY. That’s what the crooked sign duck-taped to the front tent flap said. Inside were a chair, a lamp, and a poster that said WANTED: STUMPY, SNIGGS, AND SNORKY.

“I brought binoculars,” said Rocky.

“I brought snoopware,” said Frank. “You know, spy stuff. Telescope, sunglasses, fake noses, and walkie-talkies.”

“I brought . . . my . . . super-sniffer nose. For sniffing out clues,” said Stink. “So what’s the big mystery?”

“I think Mr. Chips was stolen,” said Judy. “Fact: Jessica Finch lives across the street from Mr. Chips, and she told me at lunch that no way would he ever run away from Officer Kopp. Fact: Jessica Finch said that Mr. Chips has a fancy collar. He wore it in the Fourth of July parade. Fact: Bad-guy burglars could have taken him to get their hands on his diamond doggy collar.”

“Jessica Finch doesn’t know everything,” said Stink.

“Ya-huh. Why do you think we call her Miss Know-It-All?” said Frank.

“We should start at Officer Kopp’s house. Scene of the crime,” said Judy. “But wait! First I have to swear you in.”

“I’m not allowed to say swears,” said Stink.

“Stink, in Detective Land, that means you take a super-serious oath and promise to be a good assistant detective and help solve the mystery.”

Judy handed a name-tag sticker to each boy. “Here, wear these on your shirts. Agent Stink. Agent Pearl. Agent Rock.”

“I want to be Agent 714,” said Stink.

“And can I be Agent Dragnet?” asked Frank.

“How come mine says Agent Rock, not Rocky?” asked Rocky.

“It sounds cooler,” said Judy. She took out a set of dino-bug pins.

“Hey, those are my paleo-insect pins!” said Stink.

“Why do we have to wear these?” asked Agent Rock.

“Quit bugging me,” said Judy, passing out the pins. “All detectives wear badges. These are your official badges.”

“Can I be the stinkbug?” asked Stink.

Judy handed Stink a yucky millipede.

“I said Agent Dragnet, not Agent Dragonfly,” said Frank. Rocky/Agent Rock pinned on the Jurassic beetle.

“Fine,” said Judy. “I’ll be the cockroach.”

“I know how we can make real badges,” said Stink. “I saw it on public television. First you take cardboard and cut out the shape of a shield. Then you glue silver foil —”

“Stink. This is no time for arts-and-crafts class.”

“Fine,” said Stink. “I’ll be the ladybug. But I’m going to pretend it’s a prehistoric stinkbug, and you can’t stop me.”

“Raise your right hands and repeat after me,” said Judy. “I, Agent Stink, Pearl, or Rock . . .”

“I, Agent Stink, Pearl, or Rock . . .”

“Do solemnly swear . . .”

“Do solemnly swear . . .”

“Even though I’m not allowed to swear,” said Stink.

“That I will obey all detective laws . . .”

“That I will obey all detective laws . . .”

“And listen to Judy . . .”

“And listen to Judy . . .”

“Because she is the WBMS — World’s Best Mystery Solver . . .”

“Because she is the —”

“You said BM,” said Stink. “You can’t make me say BM.”

Judy grinned. “Never mind.” She put on her own cockroach badge and pointed down the street. “To the crime scene!”

Before you could say Password to Larkspur Lane, Judy and her two assistants (plus one stinky brother) were knock-knocking on Officer Kopp’s front door.

“I’ll do the talking,” said Judy, elbowing her way to the front. Officer Kopp came to the door in his blue jeans and sock feet. He was holding his phone in one hand and a stack of flyers in the other.

Judy started her speech. “Hi, we’re from Virginia Dare School —”

“These aren’t bug pins,” Stink interrupted. “They’re badges.” Judy turned on Stink and gave him her best Hercules-beetle stare. “We heard about Mr. Chips and we’re detectives and —”

“Detectives, huh?” said Officer Kopp.

“Where’s your uniform?” Frank asked, staring at Officer Kopp’s socks.

“We rushed right over as soon as we heard that Mr. Chips had been stolen,” Rocky added.

“We don’t know that he’s been stolen,” said Officer Kopp. “Most likely he just escaped, though for the life of me, I can’t see how. But I sure am glad to see you guys.”

Judy stood up straighter. “You are?”

“Sure. I was hoping you kids might help put up flyers around town.” He held up flyers that said LOST in big letters and showed a cute picture of Mr. Chips.

“We’ll put them up at Fur and Fangs,” said Rocky.

“And Speedy Market,” said Frank.

“And all over the whole entire town,” said Stink.

“Great!” said Officer Kopp.

Judy took out her notebook. “So Mr. Chips was last seen where?”

“In the backyard this morning,” said Officer Kopp.

“Uh-huh,” said Judy. Scribble, scribble. “When was this?”

“My wife let him out at around six thirty, I think. Then I filled his dish and put him in the kennel around seven. At seven forty-five, I went out to get him, and he was gone. And the food was still in his dish.”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” said Judy. Scribble.

“Poor Mr. Chips,” said Frank.

“Can we see the kennel?” Judy asked. A good detective always took a look at the scene of the crime.

“Sure. C’mon around back,” said Officer Kopp. In his sock feet, he led them back to a tidy, fenced-in backyard. Along the side was a kennel, much bigger than a doghouse, made out of chain-link fence.

Officer Kopp scratched the back of his head. “He’s never done anything like this before. The whole yard’s fenced, and the kennel is supposed to be escape-proof.”

The door was latched with a U-shaped hook. “Was the latch open when you came out at seven forty-five?” Judy asked.

“That’s just it. The latch was still closed, and the door wasn’t open.”

Scribble. “Have you seen any suspicious characters lurking around?”

“Anybody with a name like Grumpy or Scurvy?” Stink asked.

“Not that I know of. This is a quiet neighborhood.” Just then the phone rang from inside. “They’re patching calls through, and the phone’s been ringing off the wall. Maybe it’s a lead. ’Scuse me.” Officer Kopp trotted toward the house.

Judy tapped her pencil on her pad. “Fact: Door is closed, latch down. Fact: Dog food still in dish. If you were going to run away, wouldn’t you finish your breakfast first?” The boys nodded.

“Brilliant idea number sixty-seven,” said Judy. “Get in the cage, Stink. We’ll latch the door and see if you can bust out.”

“Is this a trick? Are you gonna lock me in the kennel and run away?”

“This is not a trick. It’s a real detective thing to act stuff out so you can figure out what happened. C’mon, Stinker, you took the oath.”

Stink dragged his feet into the kennel, and Judy flipped the latch down. “Now act like a dog.”

“I’m not gonna crawl around on all fours and pretend I’m a dog!”

“Dogs can’t talk, Stink.”

“Arf!” Stink got down on all fours and pawed at the air.

“Now bump up against the door of the kennel. No fair using hands.”

Stink bumped against the chain-link door. “Ow!” He rubbed his shoulder.

“See?” said Judy. “He can’t open it. And he’s way bigger than Mr. Chips.”

Judy bent to the ground, looking for more clues with her pocket magnifier.

“Aha!” Judy shrieked so loud that all three boys jumped.

“Did you see a bad guy?”

“Did you see a burglar?”

“Did you see a bear?”

“No, but I saw bad-guy burglar boot prints the size of a bear. Look.” She pointed to a patch of mud in front of the kennel door.

“They’re probably just Officer Kopp’s footprints,” said Rocky.

“Or a bad guy like Stumpy or Snorky,” said Judy.

“But they’re gi-normous,” said Stink. “As big as four footprints put together. Give me your ruler so I can measure them.”

“I don’t have a ruler,” said Judy.

“That whole detective kit and no ruler?”

“In The Witch Tree Symbol, Nancy Drew used her skirt as a ruler.”

“Then give me your skirt.”

“Hardee-har-har, Stink.”

“No way are these footprints human,” said Frank.

“Maybe Mr. Chips got eaten by a bear!” said Rocky.

“Or a yeti!” said Stink.

“The Abominable Snowman,” said Frank.

“Get real,” said Judy.

“There are more footprints over here,” said Stink. “These look more like sneakers.”

“Stink, get a clue. Those are your prints,” said Judy.

Frank pointed to something caught on the fence. “Judy. Over here!”

“What have we here?” Judy asked. “A clump of fur!”

“Could be from the dog,” said Agent Rock.

“Or a yeti,” said Agent Pearl.

“Move over. Let the Nose take a whiff.” Stink sniffed it and turned up his nose. “It’s dog hair, all right. PU! Smells worse than a yeti.”

“When’s the last time you smelled a yeti?” Judy took out her tweezers and collected the dog-hair evidence in a plastic zip-top bag.

“So do you think Mr. Chips brushed up against the fence when he was being dragged out by bad guys?” Frank asked.

“Dognappers!” Judy whispered.

“You think somebody stole Mr. Chips? For real?” asked Rocky.

“Hello! Read the clues,” said Detective Judy. “One, Mr. Chips didn’t even get to finish his breakfast. Two, he can’t open the latch on the door himself. And three, bad-guy big-foot boot prints are everywhere.”

“Burglars!” said Rocky.

“Thieves!” said Frank.

“Dog stealers!” said Stink.

She, Eagle-Eye-Moody, had found one clue after another, just like Nancy Drew. She read the evidence. She was on her way to cracking the big case. All she had to do now was track down a couple of downright dirty dognappers with size sixteen stompers!

The next morning, Judy was already hard at work on the case by the time Stink woke up. She sprawled on the floor with a rainbow of markers all around her.

“What’re you doing to Officer Kopp’s flyers?” Stink asked.

“Fixing them,” said Judy, coloring in blue eyes on the picture of Mr. Chips.

Stink tilted his head, reading upside down. He was trying to figure out the words Judy had just added. “‘Have you seen this goo?’”

“‘Have you seen this dog.’”

“Oh. Your D looks like an O.”

“Stink, a good detective can read backward and upside down.” Judy colored in a black letter R.

“‘Drawer’?” Stink asked, squinching up his face.

“‘Reward’!” said Judy. “We have to offer big bucks so that anyone who has seen Mr. Chips or has any information on his whereabouts will call the police. Rule Number One of being a good detective is don’t be afraid to ask for help.”

“You mean Rule Number One Gazillion!” said Stink. “So, whoever finds Mr. Chips gets a reward, not a drawer?”

“Yep.”

“So if I find him,” Stink asked, “I get the money?”

Judy ignored him. She wrote in $23.80.

“Whoa,” said Stink. “Twenty-three dollars and eighty cents. That’s a lot of money. How’d you come up with $23.80?”

“That’s all you had in your piggy bank, Stink.”

“You broke my bank?” Stink ran into his room and grabbed his piggy bank. “That’s weird. My bank’s not broken. . . . And the lock is still on,” said Stink. He put the piggy bank up to his ear and shook it. Empty.

“The Mystery of the Missing Money,” said Judy.

“You picked the lock! With one of those Nancy Drew bobby pin thingies.”

“You can’t prove it, Stink.”

“No fair! You can’t just keep taking my stuff. First it was my president dollars, then my dino-bug pins. Now this. That’s called stealing. It makes you just as bad as Snarky, Snuffy, and Stingy — those Nancy Drew bad guys.”

“For your information, it’s Snorky, Sniggs, and Stumpy.”

“Whatever. It’s still my money.”

“Well, you stole a whole bag of my gummy mice. Just think, Stink. If you find Mr. Chips, you can win back your money.”

“But that money’s already mine! I shouldn’t have to win it back.”

“It’s for a good cause,” Judy reminded him. “If you ask me, that lock was just asking to be picked.”

“Give it!” said Stink, holding out his hand.

“ROAR,” said Judy, handing over the money. Now she had to think of something else to offer as a reward. Something good. Something anybody would want a whole big bunch. She looked around her room at her collections. At last she had an idea.

Before you could say Sign of the Twisted Candles, Judy and Stink, with tires full of air, were speeding on their way to Speedy Market to hang up flyers. Judy’s old turquoise bike wasn’t exactly a Nancy Drew blue roadster convertible. But the wind did whip her messy hair around, and the October sun warmed her cheeks.

Judy and Stink met Rocky and Frank outside the market.

“We already hit Fur and Fangs and Screamin’ Mimi’s,” said Frank.

“And the bakery, the bowling alley, and the birthday party store,” said Rocky.

“Rare!” said Judy.

Inside Speedy Market, tons of people and a reporter and lights and cameras were crowded around, and the store manager was talking to some cop. Not just any cop. Officer Kopp!

“I’m not kidding ya,” Mr. Keene, the manager, told Officer Kopp. “That little guy headed straight for the pet food aisle like nobody’s business. Crazy pup grabbed a bone worth $2.79. I yelled, ‘Drop it!’ Did he drop it? No, sirree. He ran right out the front door before anybody could catch him.”

“Sorry about the bone, Mike,” said Officer Kopp. “I’ll pay you back.”

“That’s one smart pup. How he knew which aisle had the dog treats . . .”

“Is that all the suspect seems to have taken?” asked a lady reporter.

“Suspect? He’s a dog, for crying out loud,” said Mr. Keene.

“Did you get a look at the shoplifter?”

“Yeah,” said Mr. Keene. “Brown and hairy.” He turned to Officer Kopp. “I guess you could say instead of taking a bite out of crime, he took a bite into crime.” When he laughed, his round belly shook where his shirt had popped a button.

The reporter turned to the camera and spoke into her puffy microphone. “A thief remains at large after a daring heist in the pet food aisle of the local Speedy Market,” she said. “You might say the four-legged man’s best friend was too speedy for this market manager.” She fake-smiled at the camera. “Cut!”

Judy followed Officer Kopp out of the store. “Do they think it was Mr. Chips?” she asked.

“All anybody saw was a streak of brown and a tail, but it must have been him. Keep looking!” Officer Kopp called as he hopped into his black-and-white and headed out of the parking lot, lights flashing.

Judy and her best chums (the Nancy Drew word for friends) searched all over the parking lot of Speedy Market — under cars, behind a tree, in the Dumpster. They asked every shopper they saw, “Did you happen to see a little brown puppy with big paws?” But the answer was always no. Until . . . a lady with funny glasses pointed to the back corner of the parking lot. “Those guys in that van had a dog.”

“Where? What van?” asked Judy, snapping her head around.

“Was he brown?”

“Was he cute?”

“Was he Mr. Chips?”

Just then, a dark green van peeled out, tearing through the parking lot, tires squealing. Judy and her friends jumped out of the way. The van swerved out of the parking lot without stopping. “Stop! Thief!” Judy yelled, but the van sped off down the street before she could make out the letters on the license plate.

“Did you see that? It’s gotta be them — the bad-guy dognappers!” Judy was breathing fast and pointing down the street. “This is SO just like Nancy Drew mystery #1, The Secret of the Old Clock.”

“How is this like some old clock?” Rocky asked.

“C’mon, guys. You read the book.”

“No, we didn’t,” all three boys said at the same time.

“First of all, there’s a dark van. Second of all, there’s this girl named Judy. She’s trying to cross the street and she almost gets hit by a moving van and she falls off a bridge and Nancy Drew has to rescue her and it turns out the bad-guy jewel thieves stole an old clock and stuff.”

“I thought you said the jewel thieves were in The Mystery of the Brass Bound Trunk,” said Stink.

“And The Mystery at Lilac Inn and The Ghost of Blackwood Hall and —”

“Wow, Nancy Drew must have more jewels than the queen of England!”

“She doesn’t get to keep them, Stink.” Judy took out her notebook. “So, did anybody see anything? Like a license plate?”

“The first three letters were K-G-B,” said Rocky.

“K-F-C,” said Frank.

“K-L-F,” said Stink. “Or E-L-F.”

“Great,” said Judy, putting her pencil behind her ear. “So we know who took Mr. Chips. Some secret bad guys who eat chicken and look like elves.”

“I think the one guy did have pointy ears,” said Stink.

“ROAR,” said Judy. “What about the van? Did it say anything on it?”

“Flush ’n’ Flo?” said Stink.

“Push and Go,” said Rocky.

“Flash and Glo,” said Frank.

“Toilet emergency!” said Stink.

“Stink, not now.”

“It had the words Toilet Emergency on the side. I saw. For real. No lie.”

“Stink’s right,” said Frank.

Judy chewed on the end of her pencil. “Toilet emergency. Flush ’n’ Flo. So they must be like those guys that fix toilets and stuff. RARE!”

“The super-bad guys are plumbers?” Frank asked.

“That’s just their cover,” Judy explained. “Everybody knows that international jewel thieves can’t ride around in a van that says Jewel Thieves.”

“The phone number was like 1-800-UN-DOG,” said Rocky.

“‘UN-DOG’?” said Judy. “Are you sure it didn’t say ‘UN-CLOG’?”

“1-800-UNDER-DOG!” said Stink.

“Great,” said Judy. “Let’s all take an Underdog Super Energy Pill and find a phone booth and change into superheroes. Then we’ll find Mr. Chips.”

“Hip, hip, hip, and away we go!” yelled Stink.

“I know,” said Frank. “Let’s stake out the supermarket till they come back.”

“Yeah, we know Mr. Chips is hungry, right?”

“Yeah, ’cause why else would a cop dog steal a dog bone?” Frank said.

“I can’t believe Mr. Chips is a shoplifter,” said Rocky.

“I don’t think Mr. Chips is the thief,” said Judy. “I bet these guys are so bad, they’re not even feeding him, so poor Mr. Chips has to steal his own food!”

“He’s still gonna have to arrest himself for breaking the law.” Frank cracked himself up. Rocky and Stink cracked up, too.

“This isn’t helping us find Mr. Chips,” said Judy.

“Rule Number One,” said Stink. “A good detective always keeps a sense of humor.”

The rest of Saturday, and all day Sunday, Judy and her fellow junior detectives biked all over the neighborhood in search of a dark green van. They saw black vans, blue vans, brown vans, maroon vans, but not one single green van with Toilet Emergency written on its side and driven by chicken-eating guys with pointy ears.

On Monday morning, she, Judy Moody, was in a mood. A why-can’t-I-solve-a-mystery mood. Then came a clue, when she least expected it.

Judy was doodling paw prints with her Grouchy pencil through Mr. Todd’s talk about Healthy Habits when out of the blue, the principal came on the loudspeaker and said three magic words.

“Girls and boys, I’m afraid we have a bit of toilet trouble in the third-fourth wing. We had an emergency this morning when a pipe burst and flooded the girls’ bathroom. The plumbers are here to fix the problem, but we ask that you use the bathrooms by the library until further notice.”

Toilet! Emergency! Plumbers! Those three words were music to Judy’s ears. She craned her neck to look out into the parking lot. That’s when she saw it: a dark green van, parked right across from the entrance to the school!

Judy took out her notebook and wrote SOS in red lipstick. She held it up for Frank and Rocky to see. Her hand shot up. “Mr. Todd, I have to go. Bad. And Rocky and Frank have to go, too.” The whole class cracked up. Frank turned beet-red. “To the bathroom, I mean.”

Jessica Finch raised her hand. “Mayday! Mayday! I have to go, too.” Jessica Finch was just being a big fat copycat. What a Fink-Face.

“Tell you what,” said Mr. Todd. “Let’s all take a quick bathroom break.”

Eagle-Eye Moody was back on the case.

Judy, Rocky, and Frank rushed out the door and down the hall. They did not head for the bathroom by the library. They headed straight for the girls’ room with the busted toilet. On their way, they ran smack-dab into Agent Stink.

“Stink, the girls’ bathroom is broken and the bad-guy plumbers are here fixing it. No lie!” Judy told him.

“Judy saw the van parked outside,” said Frank. “It’s green, just like the one at Speedy Market.”

“Mr. Chips could be right here right now!” said Rocky.

“This is big, Stink. And we only have five minutes. Be our lookout while we check out the bathroom.”

“What? You can’t go in there. There might be exploding toilets! Or bad guys! They could tie you up. Or give you a major flushie or something.”

“A flushie?” asked Judy.

“That’s when they stick your head in the toilet . . . and flush!” Frank whispered.

“Rule Number One, Stink: Don’t be afraid of flushies.” Judy reached in her pocket and pulled out her SOS lipstick. “If anything happens, I’ll write SOS on the mirror. Besides, I’ve got backup. Agent Rock and Agent Pearl are going in with me.”

“I’m not going in the girls’ room,” Rocky and Frank said at the same time.

“We’ve got to,” said Judy. “For Mr. Chips!”

“Hurry up,” said Stink, glancing up and down the hall. “Just yell ‘Toilet paper’ if you get in trouble.”

Judy ducked under the yellow DO NOT CROSS tape. Her heart beat in her throat as she tiptoed inside. Rocky and Frank followed close behind.

“Hey, it’s pink!” Rocky whispered.

“And the girls have soap,” said Frank.

“Shh!” said Judy. The place was quiet. Too quiet. A door from one of the stalls leaned against the sink. “Who’s there?” she asked, holding her breath. She held out her Grouchy pencil for protection. She inched closer to the far end of the bathroom and poked her head around the corner of the last stall.

“AAAGH!” screamed Judy. Rocky and Frank jumped back.

“What! Nobody’s in here,” said Rocky.

“I know. But I had a scream in me, all ready to come out.”

“Toilet paper! Toilet paper!” Stink yelled, rushing into the girls’ room.

“False alarm, Stink,” said Frank. “They’re not even here.”

“No, but they were here,” said Judy, pointing to tools left on the floor.

“Maybe they flushed themselves down the toilet!” said Stink.

“Stink, you have flushies on the brain.”

Frank picked up a piece of old pipe. “The plumber did it, with the pipe, in the pink room. It’s like that game, Clue.”

“Maybe they’re phantom plumbers,” said Stink. “Like that phantom horse in Nancy Drew #5, The Secret of Shadow Ranch.”

Judy blinked. “Nice work, Agent Stinkbug. How’d you know that?”

“Um, you told me.” Judy shook her head. “I, um, might have seen it on Sophie of the Elves’s desk, and I might have just happened to take a peek.”

“Phantom or not, they were here,” said Rocky. “And where there are fake plumbers with a green van, Mr. Chips can’t be far behind.”

“For sure and absolute positive,” said Judy.

“Check this out,” said Frank. He held up a piece of old rope. One end was tied in a knot, and the other was frayed. “Evidence!”

Stink sniffed the rope. “It smells doggy, all right. The Nose knows.”

“Poor Mr. Chips,” said Frank.

“We’re getting warmer. I can feel it,” said Judy. “I’d bet my mood ring they keep Mr. Chips tied up with this rope while they fake like they’re fixing toilets.”

“But where are they now?” Rocky asked.

Judy twisted the SOS lipstick, her detective brain spinning round and round. “I’ve got it.” She snapped her fingers. “They left in a big fat hurry because they know we know.”

“How do you know they know we know?” asked Frank.

“I don’t know. Call it a Nancy Drew hunch. I just know they know we know.”

“I know my head hurts,” said Stink.

“We better hurry up and get outta here,” said Frank.

“Before Fink-Face tattles on us,” said Judy.

“It’s early dismissal today,” said Rocky, checking his watch. “Only twelve minutes before school’s out.”

“Hey, you guys have soap in your bathroom? Pink soap?” Stink asked.

“Since when is everyone I know such a clean freak?” Judy asked.

All four kids made a beeline for the door. They passed Ms. Tuxedo in the hall. “Did you see which way the plumbers went?” Judy and her fellow detectives asked at the same time. “Did they have pointy ears? Did you hear a dog barking?”

“You kids better get back to class,” said Ms. Tuxedo. “The bell’s about to ring any minute now.”

For the last twelve minutes of the school day, Judy Moody had ants in her pants. Bees in her knees. Bug eggs in her legs. Who could sit still when the green van might be back any minute?

Scoo-bee-doo, Nancy Drew! An international ring of thieves, right here at Virginia Dare School! With Judy Drewdy and her crack detectives on the case, those thieves’ dognapping days were numbered.

At last the bell rang. Judy raced out front to the parking lot. Still no green van in sight. “All aboard,” yelled the bus driver. Judy waited till the last possible second. Still no van. She hopped on the bus. The doors whooshed shut as the bus pulled out of the parking lot. Judy pressed her nose to the window of Bus 211.

There it was! A green van! A green van that said WE FIX TOILETS AND OTHER PLUMBING EMERGENCIES. A green van that said CALL 1-555-UNCLOG-U on the side.

That was it! It was them! Stink and Rocky saw it, too.

“STOP!” cried Judy. “Stop the bus!”

The bus driver could not stop for one kid with a not-toilet emergency. The bus driver would not stop for a solve-a-mystery emergency. The bus driver had a way-big important schedule to keep.

Judy took out her Nancy Drew lipstick and wrote SOS on the back window of the school bus.

The bus driver still would not let Judy off the bus. The bus driver told Judy to sit down. The bus driver did not know that in that van might be Mr. Chips.

From the back of the bus, Judy watched the green van disappear until it was no bigger than a bug. The wheels on the bus went round and round. Judy’s detective heart went pound, pound, pound. What if Mr. Chips was never, ever, ever found?

“I’ll find you, Mr. Chips. Don’t you worry,” she whispered to nobody but herself and the universe.

After school, Judy was sitting on her bed, chewing a pencil, trying to think of a plan. A green van plan. All of a sudden, she heard strange sounds coming from the bathroom. Splishing sounds. Splashing sounds. Flushing sounds. Gushing sounds.

Was Stink giving Astro, his guinea pig, a bubble bath? Taking Toady surfing in the tub? She climbed down from her top bunk to investigate. Mouse followed her.

“Stink, who’s in the ba —?” But Stink wasn’t in the tub. Stink was stuffing stuff down the toilet! The Hulk, Iron Man, a rubber ducky, and Mouse’s squeak toy. He poked it with his plastic lightsaber. Wheek! Wheek! Wheek-wheek-wheek! Mouse jumped up on the toilet to see.

Judy peered into the toilet bowl. It was swimming with dead Goldfish. The cracker kind, that is. “Stink, what are you doing? Playing Superhero Tsunami in the toilet?”

“Duh,” said Stink. “What’s it look like? I’m overflowing the toilet. Then we’ll have a toilet emergency, and we’ll have to call a plumber. The bad guys in the green van will come right to our house. We’ll flush ’em out and rescue Mr. Chips! Get it?”

“Genius!” said Judy. Just then, Stink flushed the toilet. Spew! Water sprayed up out of the toilet in a geyser and gushed all over the floor. Judy leaped out of the way. Mouse sprang onto the rim of the bathtub.

“Toilet emergency! Toilet emergency!” Stink yelled.

Mom and Dad came running up the stairs. “Judy,” said Mom, “if this is another one of your Boston Tub Parties —”

“Stink did it!” said Judy, pointing at her brother.

“Mouse did it!” said Stink, pointing at the cat.

“Out of the way, Stink, so I can turn off the water,” said Dad, reaching behind the toilet.

“We have to call a plumber!” said Stink.

Judy tried to help. “We should call those guys Flush and Flo, or Push and Go, or Flash and Glo. The guys in the green van.”

Mom put on rubber gloves. She pulled Darth Vader out of the toilet. “We’re not calling a plumber. Plumbers are very expensive.”

Dad plunged the toilet until the water went down.

“I don’t know what you two were up to,” said Dad, “but you kids are going to clean up this mess.”

Mom handed her rubber gloves to Judy.

“Grab a bucket, Suds,” said Judy. “I’ll get the mop, and we’ll clean up the scene of the crime.” So much for the Judy Moody Detective Agency. It was more like the Mop and Bucket Brigade.

As soon as the bathroom was sparkling clean, Judy and Stink ran outside to meet Rocky and Frank at the old manhole. “Somebody in this neighborhood has got to have a broken toilet for real,” said Stink.

“Let’s knock on doors and ask,” said Judy. “But if anybody wants your name, use a fake one, just in case. In The Thirteenth Pearl, Nancy Drew uses the alias Nan Drewry.”

“I’ll be James Madison. Judy, you be Elizabeth Blackwell.”

“Duh. Everybody knows we’re not them,” said Judy.

“Okay, then I’ll be James Madagascar,” said Stink.

“I’ll be Liz Inkwell.”

“Spuds Houdini,” said Rocky.

“Dills Pickle,” said Frank.

Liz Inkwell rang bells. Dills Pickle knocked on doors. They asked, “Is your toilet broken?” But not one single house in the whole entire state of Virginia, it seemed, had a broken toilet. Not even a stopped-up sink or a semi-flooded basement.

“We’ll never find Mr. Chips,” said Liz Inkwell. “Nancy Drew would have found him three days ago. First, she would have been kidnapped, bound and gagged, and thrown in a river. But by now she’d be at the River Heights Police Station collecting a big, fat medal.”

“Boo-hoo, Nancy Drew,” said James Madagascar. “Rule Number One: A good detective does not get in a bad mood.”

“You’re right, Stink. A good detective always keeps her spirits up.”

Judy shook herself to shake off her bad mood. “Eureka! I’ve got it! If those thieves know we’re onto them, maybe they’re not pretending to be plumbers anymore.”

“A dognapper could pretend to look like anybody,” said Rocky.

“Yeah, an old lady. A dog walker. An elf. A clown,” said Judy.

“How about a mailman?” asked Frank, pointing across the street.

“Hey, it’s Jack Frost!” said Stink as they ran toward his mail truck. “Is your toilet broken, by any chance?”

“Have you seen a green van around here?” Frank asked.

“How about any cute, brown, and hairy dogs?” Judy asked.

“Who answer to the name of Mr. Chips?” asked Stink.

“Or any sneaky bad guys who look like plumbers?” Frank asked.

“Or any old ladies or clowns who look like sneaky bad guys?” Rocky asked.

“One question at a time! Let’s see . . .” Jack Frost scratched his beard. “I did see Mildred Benson’s Chihuahua. But he’s not cute. And he’s not hairy. I haven’t seen any green vans, just two white cable TV trucks. No suspicious old ladies today. And not one single clown.”

“Roar,” said Judy.

“But there is one thing that’s strange. Might be a mystery.”

“What? What?” they all said at once. “What is it? Tell us!”

Jack Frost held up an empty sandwich bag. “I packed a lunch this morning and put it in the truck. But when I got back to the truck at lunchtime after walking my route, my food was missing.”

“Strange,” said Stink.

“Weird,” said Rocky and Frank.

“Interesting,” said Judy. She peered at the plastic baggie up close. She held it up to the light. “Was it a baloney sandwich?”

“Yes. Yes, it was.”

“Did your baloney sandwich have mustard?”

“Yes. Yes, it did,” said Jack Frost.

“How did you know that?” asked Rocky.

She pointed with her Grouchy pencil. “There’s a mustard fingerprint right here. And I can smell the baloney.”

“So it was Colonel Mustard, with the baloney sandwich, in the mail truck!”

“Or,” said Stink, “maybe a koala ate the baloney sandwich.”

Judy shot him a super-sidewinder stare. A poison-dart-frog glare. “What?”

“Fact,” said Stink. “Koalas are one of the only animals with fingerprints. And a koala’s fingerprint looks almost exactly like a human’s.”

“I didn’t see a single koala in the kitchen while I was making the sandwich, so I guess that mustard print is mine,” said Jack Frost.

“So the fingerprint is just a red herring,” Judy said.

“What’s a red herring?” asked Stink.

“A PU stinky fish,” said Rocky.

“No, a false clue,” Judy told them. “To throw us off. That means . . . Hypers! The missing baloney sandwich is the clue, not the mustard fingerprint. We’re lucky we stumbled on it, just like Nancy Drew in The Clue in the Crumbling Wall.”

“But how is the baloney sandwich a clue if it’s missing?”

“Don’t you get it? The bad guys are training Mr. Chips to steal stuff. You saw how smart he was at school that day. First it was my backpack. Then it was a dog bone; now it’s people food. Think what could be next. Diamonds? Jewels? Or will they train him to rob a bank?”

“Oh, no,” said Frank. “Mr. Chips is turning into a jewel thief.”

“Or a bank robber,” said Rocky.

“Or a clock stealer,” said Stink. “Like in Judy’s book.”

“Sounds like your Mr. Chips has gone over to the dark side,” said Jack Frost, opening up the back of his mail truck. It was heaped with bins full of mail.

“Yeah, we’ll have to call him Mr. Darth Vader Chips,” said Frank.

Suddenly, she, Judy Moody, could not believe her eagle eyes! In the back of the mail truck, she spied a bunch of magazines tied up with rope. Rope exactly like the rope the plumbers had. Rope that could be used to tie up Mr. Chips! Jack Frost, fake mailman, with the rope, in the mail truck!

“Who is this Mr. Chips, anyway?” asked Jack Frost. “Some kind of canine criminal?”

“Like you don’t know,” Judy muttered. Then, louder, “Where’d you get this rope? Do you like dogs? Did you really lose your baloney sandwich? You say that was your fingerprint? Are all those mailbags really for mail?” Pow. Pow. Pow. Judy fired detective questions at her new suspect.

Stink yanked on her arm and pulled her to the other side of the street. “Are you cuckoo?” he whispered. “Why are you being such a meanie to Jack Frost?”

“Rule Number One, Stink: Everyone’s a suspect. Didn’t you see that rope he had in the back of his mail truck? It’s just like the rope used to tie up Mr. Chips. Admit it, Stinker, Jack Frost could be working with the dognappers. He could be part of a ring of international jewel thieves!”

“Hel-lo! Jack Frost is not a thief,” said Stink. “He’s a mailman. And he’s my friend. Look at him — he looks like Santa Claus.”

“That’s just it,” said Judy. “Anybody can be a bad guy. Even Santa Claus. Think about it, Stink. One — a mailman always carries dog treats. He could be helping the bad guys train Mr. Chips to sniff out the loot for stealing. Two — he knows when people go on vacation, so he could case the neighborhood and tip off the bad guys when people aren’t home. And three — what’s the perfect place to hide loot like diamonds? A mailbag. Pretty soon, nobody will get any mail, and there won’t be any jewels left in the whole state of Virginia. I rest my case.”

“Jack Frost gave you mittens for Christmas! Jack Frost made it snow! Would a jewel thief give you mittens? Would a dognapper make it snow for Christmas?” Stink ripped off his bug-pin badge and handed it to Judy. “I quit!” he huffed.

“Before you quit,” said Judy, “go ask Jack Frost where he got that rope.”

Stink crossed his arms. He uncrossed his arms. He walked over to Jack Frost. Judy came along behind him. He asked about the magazines tied up with rope.

“Oh, I’m just helping out Mrs. Stratemeyer down the street. She’s old and can’t get out, so she bundles up her used magazines and I recycle them for her.”

“Aha! So you did see an old lady today,” said Judy. Liar, liar, pants on fire.

“Sure,” said Jack Frost. “Well, the mail won’t deliver itself.” Jack Frost hopped back into the truck and started it up. “Let me know if you find that sandwich!” he called.

“See?” said Stink. “The rope is just one of those stinky red fish.”

“Red herring,” said Rocky and Frank at the same time.

“Herring, schmerring. I rest my case,” said Judy. Just then she realized that the mail truck had started off down the street. “Wait! What was that old lady’s name? How do you spell it? And what street does she live on?”

But it was too late. Jack Frost’s taillights were already turning the corner.

The next day, she, Judy Moody, was in a mood. An UN-detective mood. A bummed-out, not-Nancy-Drew mood. Not one clue so far had led to finding Mr. Chips. Nancy Drew made it all look so easy-peasy even if she was in an avalanche or being strangled by a python. But what if Judy Moody, Girl Detective, never cracked the case? What if Mr. Chips never made it home?

Mystery UNsolved. Judy wondered if Nancy Drew ever had an unsolved case. She didn’t think so. Rule Number One: Never give up!

Judy sat at the third-grade lunch table. In between bites of peanut-butter-and-banana sandwich, she made a list of suspects in her detective notebook:

The trail had gone cold. The green van had been at school again this morning, but it was gone by lunch. The toilet in the girls’ bathroom was fixed. And Jack Frost was just delivering mail, like he did every day. Even old Mrs. S. was probably just some nice old lady like Mrs. Abby Rowen in Nancy Drew #1, The Secret of the Old Clock. Some nice lady who liked to recycle.

Judy was miles away when she heard Jessica Finch bark from across the table, “Hey, my lunch! Somebody . . . Judy Moody stole my lunch for real this time!”

“Me too!” said Matthew.

“Me three!” said Jordan. The whole third-grade lunch table stared at Judy with googly eyes.

Judy popped up out of her chair and peered into Jessica’s pink piggy lunch box. “Was it a baloney sandwich?” she asked.

“Fail. Guess again,” said Jessica.

“Did you have a baloney sandwich?” Judy asked Matthew.

“Nope.”

“Did you have a baloney sandwich?” Judy asked Jordan.

Jordan shook her head no. “But somebody spilled my salad all over.”

“Somebody smushed my hummus sandwich,” said Matthew.

“And somebody spilled all the apples out of my Apple Curry Turkey Pita!” Jessica Finch squeaked.

“What are you guys? The Health-Nut Lunch Club or something?”

Jessica looked at Matthew and Jordan. “We’re the Tofu Triplets.” Jessica was so not kidding. Judy laughed, and milk sprayed out her nose.

“We bring healthy stuff for our lunches and share. Today I brought an organic chocolate-chip cookie for everybody,” said Jessica. “And now mine is G-O-N-E, gone! All that’s left are a few lousy crumbs.”

“That’s the way the cookie crumbles,” Judy teased.

“Mine’s gone, too,” said Matthew.

“Me three,” said Jordan.

“And we know who stole them.” All three of the Tofu Triplets pointed at Judy Moody. “Give us back our cookies, you crummy cookie crook!”

“Crumbs to that. Why would I steal a chocolate-chip cookie when I have my own right he —” She lifted up her sandwich. She searched under her napkin. “Aye-crumba! Somebody stole my cookie, too.” Something strange was going on at Virginia Dare School. And getting stranger by the minute.

“Jessica, did you have your lunch box with you at all times today?”

“Some detective,” said Jessica. “Mr. Todd told us to drop our lunches out here before going to the library, remember? Anybody could have gotten into them.”

“I bet it was a fifth-grader,” said Jordan.

Wait just a Nancy Drew minute. Was the green van back at school again? Were the bad guys training Mr. Chips to steal chocolate-chip cookies now? But why? Maybe the cookies were just practice. Part of Mr. Chips’s training. Today they were teaching him to sniff out chocolate-chip cookies. Tomorrow — diamonds and jewels and stuff?

Nancy Drew was always vexed by her cases. Judy Moody was vexed and perplexed. Which was just a fancy-Nancy way of saying stumped.

Or was she?

“Jeepers! I think I’ve got it!” Judy cried. All she needed now was one more clue. One more piece to solve the puzzle and crack this case wide open. And that clue could only come from one person — mailman Jack Frost.

The rest of the day, Judy Moody was on double-triple pins and needles. As soon as the bus dropped her off, she raced down the street to find Jack Frost.

“Hi, Jack Frost!” Judy called.

“So we’re friends again?” Jack Frost teased.

“Chums,” said Judy, nodding. “One question.”

“Shoot,” said Jack Frost.

“Okay, think back to yesterday. Was there anything else, anything in your lunch besides a baloney sandwich?” Judy had her pad and pencil ready.

Jack Frost scratched his head. Jack Frost stroked his beard. “Well, let’s see. There was a carrot . . .”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh. What else? What else?”

“A box of raisins . . .”

“AND?”

“Oh, yes. A super-scrumptious, ooey-gooey chocolate-chip cookie. I had my heart set on it, but all that was left were crumbs.”

“Holy jeepers!” Judy screeched. At last, she, Judy Moody, had a break in the case. She knew just how Nancy Drew felt when she cracked the secret code, “Blue bells will be singing horses,” in The Password to Larkspur Lane.

Judy raced home to bake cookies. Before you could say I-spy-with-my-eagle-eye, flour was flying and butter was becoming batter.

“Do I smell chocolate-chip cookie dough?” Stink asked, peering into the bowl. “Sweet! Can I help?”

“Yeah, you can help by not eating all the chocolate chips. These are super-important detective cookies. Find-Mr.-Chips cookies. Crack-the-case cookies.”

When the cookie sheets were full, Mom put the cookies in the oven for them. “Stink, we’re ready for Phase One. Go get the fan.”

“The fan? What for?”

“We’re going to set a trap. Since we can’t seem to get to Mr. Chips, we’ll get him to come to us. With chocolate-chip cookies. Chocolate-chip cookies are the key to this case.”

“You mean we’ll blow the cookie smell outside, and Mr. Chips Super-Sniffer will sniff out the cookies and break free and come running?”

“Right into our arms,” said Judy.

“Then the bad guys will come running after Mr. Chips to catch him?”

“Right into Officer Kopp’s arms,” said Judy.

“Genius!” Stink said. Stink turned on the fan.

In no time, Judy and Stink heard a noise outside. They went running to the front door. It was Rocky and Frank.

“We thought you were Mr. Chips!” said Judy. She explained her Master Catch-a-Thief Cookie Plan.

“How do you know it’ll work?” asked Rocky.

“It worked on you, didn’t it?” Judy said with a grin. “Time to call 1-800-MR-CHIPS and tell Officer Kopp to come quick if he wants to catch some bad guys.”

“And tell him to bring backup,” said Agent Pearl. “Just in case.”

Phase Two: Judy piled a mountain of hot-out-of-the-oven cookies on a plate. Rocky and Frank took some and made a trail of cookie crumbs leading down the sidewalk, around the corner, across the driveway, and right up to the tent.

“If we don’t catch Mr. Chips, at least we’ll catch a bunch of ants,” said Stink. Stink always had ant farms on the brain.

“Stink, we’ll hide in the tent with the rest of the cookies and wait for Mr. Chips. You take Frank’s walkie-talkie and hide in the bushes out front. If you see the green van, call us and say ‘Chips ahoy!’ That’s the secret code.”

“Cool beans,” said Stink. “Wait a sec. No fair. How come you guys get to be in the tent with cookies, and I have to be in the bushes all by myself without cookies?”

Judy held up the other walkie-talkie. “You can talkie to us any time you feel lonely.”

Stink grabbed two cookies.

“Hey!” Judy barked. “Give those back.”

“Rule Number One: Never solve a crime on an empty stomach.”

The Master Catch-a-Thief Cookie Trap was set. Now all they had to do was wait.

“Breaker, breaker, this is Adam-12,” said Stink. “Do you copy me? We got a possible Beetle Bailey.”

“Huh?”

“It’s a green VW Bug,” said Stink.

“A Bug is not a van, Stink.”

They watched and waited, waited and watched some more.

“Breaker, breaker,” said Stink. “Come in, breaker. You read me?”

“Roger that,” said Judy.

“Rocky’s mom is taking out the garbage. Over.”

“Oops, I was supposed to do that,” said Rocky.

“We’ve got an S-as-in-Saturn, Q-as-in-quark, U-as-in-underwear, I-as-in-I-Don’t-Know, R-as-in-rock, E-as-in-Easter-Bunny, L-as-in-loser.”

“A what?” Frank asked Judy.

“S-Q-U-I-R-E-L. I think he might mean squirrel. Learn to spell, Stink.”

They waited some more.

“Beetle Bailey still parked. Cat burglar on a fence. Over,” said Stink.

“Repeat. Did you say burglar?”

“It’s just a cat.”

“No green van?”

“Negatory on the van. Just a crow picking at some leftover road pizza.”

“So we just sit here?” asked Frank.

“My butt’s asleep,” said Rocky.

“Stakeouts are boring,” Stink said over the walkie-talkie.

“NOT,” said Judy. “This is as exciting as one time in The Mystery of the Moss-Covered Mansion when Nancy Drew chased a wild leopard and trapped him in the garage with a calm-down pill hidden inside a piece of meat.”

“Chips ahoy! Chips ahoy!” crackled Stink. “Movement in bushes across the street. I think I see something furry.”

Judy sat up, on alert. Frank and Rocky peered out the tent flap.

“Negatory. Scratch that. Just the cat burglar again.”

Still more waiting.

“Chips ahoy!” Stink called again. “Got your ears on? I think I see a tail.”

“A doggy tail?”

“False alarm. Just the S-as-in-Saturn. Q-as-in —”

“Stink, you have the right to remain silent,” said Judy.

“Chips ahoy!” hissed Stink. “CHIPS A-HOY!”

“He’s like the boy who cried chips ahoy,” said Frank.

“No way are we falling for that again.” Just then, Judy heard a new sound. A sniffing, snuffling sound. A panting, pawing sound.

Is it? Was it? Could it be?

All three faces peered out the front tent flap.

Holy jeepers! MR. CHIPS!

Judy held out a cookie. “Good boy! C’mere, Mr. Chips.” In one leap, Mr. Chips jumped right into the tent and on top of Judy, knocking her over. Cookies went flying. Mr. Chips’s tail was wagging five miles a minute. Judy hugged that wiggling ball of fur and kissed that puppy on his wet nose.

“Mr. Chips!” said Rocky and Frank. “Who’s a good boy? You are. Oh, yes, you are!” Mr. Chips rolled over, paws in the air. They tickled his tummy.

“Chips ahoy! Chips ahoy!” Stink was still yelling. “Come in, breaker. Do you read?” Finally, he came rushing into the tent, where the little brown furball was licking Judy, Rocky, and Frank from head to toe.

“Told you!” Stink cried.

“Where’d you go, boy?” Rocky asked in between doggy kisses. “I wish you could tell us where you’ve been.”

“You’re safe from the bad guys now, Mr. Chips,” said Frank. “You didn’t see the green van, did you, Stink?”

“Nope. Not even a piece of rope or a bite of baloney sandwich.”

“How’d you break away from those bad guys?” Judy asked. “Who’s a smart doggy? You are.”

“Breaker 1-9. We got a bear coming. With a gumball machine.”

“Stakeout’s over, Stink. You can talk normal now,” said Judy. Just then, she saw the black-and-white that had pulled into the driveway, lights flashing.

“Officer Kopp!” cried Judy as he crossed the yard. “Look who we found!”

“Where did you get off to, boy?” Officer Kopp asked, snapping a leash on the puppy. Mr. Chips leaped into Officer Kopp’s arms, wagging his tail and licking him like he hadn’t seen him in a year.

After all the How-Did-You’s and Where-Have-You-Been’s and Don’t-Ever’s, Officer Kopp asked, “So, how’d you find this guy?”

“Easy-peasy, lemon-squeezy,” said Judy. “We set a chocolate-chip cookie trap.”

“Good idea,” said Officer Kopp.

“So did you bring backup?” Stink asked. “To catch the bad guys in the green van?”

“Yeah, we were onto them the day Mr. Chips stole the dog bone from Speedy Market,” said Frank.

“At first, we thought they were dognappers,” said Judy.

“Yeah, like they took Mr. Chips for reward money,” Stink added.

“Then a Nancy Drew lightbulb went off in my head, and we followed a ton of clues all over town and figured out that they’ve been training Mr. Chips to steal stuff. They’re teaching him by making him sniff out chocolate-chip cookies.”

“First it’s cookies, then diamonds,” said Stink.

Officer Kopp chuckled. “Hmm. That’s some mighty interesting detective work, and you sure cracked the case. But I’m afraid there haven’t been any reports at the police station about any diamonds gone missing.”

“See?” said Judy, turning to her fellow detectives. “Not only did we rescue Mr. Chips; we also stopped those bad guys in the nick of time.”

“Yeah, looks to me like you caught the thief all right. The chocolate-chip cookie thief — our own Mr. Chips.”

Judy wasn’t so sure. She, Eagle-Eye-Moody, was going to keep one eye peeled, just in case.

“We’ll never know for sure, but I think Mr. Chips is an escape artist — a regular Houdini. Best we can figure is that he pushed the bottom of the fencing just enough and squeezed out through a tiny opening. Then he ran all over town looking for food, he got so hungry.”

“So that’s why he stole a dog bone from Speedy Market?” asked Frank.

“And Jack Frost’s baloney sandwich!” said Stink.

“Then he got into the lunches at school and ate the chocolate-chip cookies,” said Judy. “That’s how he got the name Mr. Chips. Because he loves chocolate-chip cookies. Am I right?”

“Not quite,” said Officer Kopp. “Mr. Chips doesn’t eat chocolate-chip cookies. He buries them.”

“Huh?” everybody asked.

“Most dogs have a sweet tooth. And they have a nose for chocolate. When Mr. Chips first came home with me, my wife was baking chocolate-chip cookies. He went right for the chips and ate a handful before we could stop him.”

“Oh, no,” said Frank. “Dogs aren’t allowed to eat chocolate. It’s like poison. It makes them sick.”

“That’s right,” said Officer Kopp. “Poor guy had the throw-ups. We took him to the vet, and she told us that chocolate makes dogs sick. So before he even got any police-dog training, he was trained not to eat chocolate.”

“Then why would he steal all those cookies?” Judy asked.

“Go ahead and give him a cookie,” said Officer Kopp. “Watch what he does.”

Judy held a cookie up to Mr. Chips. He sniffed it, then ran with it between his teeth, the way he’d carried the egg across the stage at school that day. He started digging under a tree.

“He’s going to bury it!” Judy said. They ran after Mr. Chips. Judy peered into the hole he had dug in the soft earth.

“Hey, there’s a bunch more cookies in there,” said Stink.

“Where’d he get those?” Rocky asked.

“He has a whole stash,” Frank said, pointing and laughing.

“Thin Mints,” said Judy. “Mom bought Girl Scout cookies from Jessica Finch, and I left some in the tent.”

“What did I tell you?” said Officer Kopp. He scooped up Mr. Chips. “Well, now that these super-detectives found you, I better get you home, huh?” He rubbed noses with Mr. Chips. “I was worried I’d never see this guy again. I thank you, and Mr. Chips thanks you.”

“RARE!” said Judy. “I finally got to solve a mystery. The Mystery of the Missing Doggy Detective. This is just like the time Nancy Drew rescued a police dog puppy in book #1, The Secret of the Old Clock. No lie.” She felt as shiny as the penny in Nancy Drew’s penny loafers.

“Is there a reward?” Stink asked.

“Are you gonna arrest Mr. Chips for stealing that dog bone?” Frank asked.

“Will Mr. Chips still get to be a police dog?” Rocky asked.

“No, no, and yes,” said Officer Kopp. “But it’ll be a while — he still has a lot to learn. A lot more training to do. Back to Doggy Detective School for you.”

“Aw, I wish I could keep him,” said Stink.

“Stink, he’s not a pet,” said Judy. “He’s a crime buster. Aren’t you, Mr. Chips?” She rubbed noses with the puppy, too.

“Looks like this mystery’s solved,” said Officer Kopp. “No more cookie stealing for you, little fella. Case closed.”

Case closed? If Judy Moody had learned one thing from Nancy Drew (besides Never Leave Home Without a Bobby Pin), it was that a detective’s work was never done. Haunted houses. Secret diaries. Stolen diamonds. Around every corner was a mystery, just waiting to be solved. And where there was mystery, there would be Judy.

The kids waved to Officer Kopp and Mr. Chips. “If any diamonds go missing,” said Judy, “you know who to call.”

“Who?” asked Stink.

“Judy Moody, Girl Detective,” she said, grinning from ear to ear.

* CASE CLOSED *

by Megan McDonald

Judy Moody was walking with her nose in Nancy Drew #32, The Scarlet Slipper Mystery, when — BAM! — she ran smack-dab into a fourth-grader. A fourth-grader carrying a giant stack of library books. The books went flying. OOPS!

“Sorry!” Judy and the girl said at the same time.

Judy helped pick up the books. “Secret in the Old Attic?” she said. “The Hidden Staircase?”

“I’m freaky for Nancy Drew,” said the girl.

“I’m freaky for Nancy Drew! I’m reading all fifty-six classic Nancy Drews. I’m on number thirty-two.”

“Hey, don’t I know you? We played soccer together last summer. I go to Jerabek Elementary School, but my mom knows your mom. My name’s Alyssa.”

“Oh, yeah!” said Judy.

Before you could say “Scarlet Slipper,” Judy had a playdate with Alyssa.

Judy’s mom pulled up outside Alyssa’s house. It had purple front steps, a porch covered in vines, and a round tower.

“This looks like a haunted house!” said Stink. “No way would I go in there.”

The house did look way old and spooky. Judy glanced at her mood ring. Amber. Amber was for Nervous. Amber was for Not-So-Sure. Amber seemed to whisper, Never-Go-Inside-Haunted-Houses.

Judy reached into the pocket where she kept her SOS lipstick. It helped her pluck up her courage. She climbed the purple steps and knocked on the front door.

Alyssa opened the door, and Judy stepped inside. The first thing Judy noticed was a chandelier in the entryway — it was swinging back and forth. Then, from out of nowhere, spooky music drifted into the room.

Judy got goose bumps, goose eggs. Alyssa didn’t seem to notice a thing.

“Is this house haunted?” Judy whispered.

“Of course not.” Alyssa laughed. “Don’t be cuckoo.” Judy started to relax. Alyssa lowered her voice. “Sometimes I do hear spooky sounds coming from the attic. You want to go up?”

“Up? As in stairs? To the spooky attic?” Judy checked her mood ring. Blue-green? Blue-green was for Relaxed, Calm. She, Judy Moody, did not feel Relaxed, Calm at all!

Upstairs, Alyssa yanked a rope in the ceiling. Down came a secret staircase that led into the attic. Jeepers! The cobwebby attic was full of junk covered in million-year-old dust: chairs, rolls of carpet, old-timey paintings, a cracked mirror.

Just then, out of the corner of Judy’s eye, something caught her attention. Something in the mirror. Something hairy and scary.

“AGHHHHHH!” Judy screamed and fell back on the floor. She scrambled back up to her feet and made a beeline for the stairs. “I think . . . saw . . . gorilla . . . ghost!”

“Judy! Stop! Wait!”

But Judy didn’t stop. She didn’t wait. Judy flew down the attic stairs, through the front door, and out into the sunshine as fast as she could, all the way home.

Judy tried not to think about haunted houses. She tried not to think about swinging chandeliers and spooky music. She tried not to think about gorillas or ghosts.

She, Judy Moody, was in a mood. A tingle-up-your-spine mood. What color is my mood ring? She looked down at her hand.

Hello! Her mood ring! It was G-O-N-E, gone! This was a for-real mystery for Judy Moody, Girl Detective: Mystery of the Missing Mood Ring.

When had she last seen it? At breakfast. At soccer. In the car with Stink . . .

Stink!

Judy Drewdy went to find her number-one suspect. She shone a flashlight in Stink’s eyes. “Where’s my mood ring?” she asked a million and one times. Judy held up an apple but wouldn’t let him eat it. Yet.

“Honest to pizza! I did NOT steal it! You had it on in the car. I saw you checking it. Maybe that gorilla ATE your mood ring.”

The gorilla! Of course! She’d had her mood ring on in the attic just before . . .

Wait just a Nancy Drew minute! This was exactly like . . . Nancy Drew Book #2, The Hidden Staircase. Nancy goes to a creepy mansion, sees the creepy chandelier swinging, hears creepy music, finds a creepy hidden staircase, and sees a creepy gorilla at the window.

Maybe Alyssa’s house was haunted after all! And, she, Judy Moody, had to go back there to get her ring. Brrr. Judy shivered at the thought.

Alyssa opened the front door. She looked surprised to see Judy.

“Hey, have you seen my mood ring?” Judy asked Alyssa.

“Mood ring?” Alyssa said. “You had it on when we went upstairs.”

“Then I think your house is haunted for real,” Judy said.

Alyssa howled like a hyena. “I got you! I got you so good!”

“You mean — all that spooky stuff was just a big fat fake-out?”

“I got the idea to spook you from reading The Hidden Staircase. So I asked my brother to jump on his bed to make the chandelier swing, play creepy music, and hide up in the attic with his gorilla mask. Judy Moody, you cracked the case!”

“RARE!” said Judy. “But — there’s still the Mystery of the Missing Mood Ring.”

Judy and Alyssa crawled on hands and knees across the attic floor, searching for her mood ring. “I’m sure you just dropped it,” said Alyssa. But where was it?

“I guess my mood ring is not in the mood to be found,” said Judy. All of a sudden, her hand pressed down on a loose floorboard. The board popped up. Under the loose board was . . . a way-cool secret compartment!

“My ring!” shouted Judy, sliding it onto her finger. “I guess it flew off yesterday when I saw your brother the gorilla, and it fell though a crack.”

Alyssa peered into the dark hole. “Hey, what’s this?” She picked something up and blew on it. A cloud of dust cleared. A note! The note was in a secret code.

OLLP RM GSV IZUGVIH.

Signed,

Nancy Drew’s biggest fan,

Alice Sutherland

December 29, 1930

“Alice in Wonderland left us a secret code from 1930?” Judy screeched.

“No, silly. Alice Sutherland. She must have lived in this house a way long time ago! She read Nancy Drew, too. How cool is that? Just think: she left this note for us to find someday. It’s like an eighty-year-old mystery.”

“That’s older than my grandma Lou!”

Judy stared at the secret code. “It’s a classic reverse alphabet code. You know, where the letter A equals Z?” The girls got a pencil and worked out the code.

LOOK IN THE RAFTERS.

Judy and Alyssa searched the attic up and down. “I think I see something blue back here!” Alyssa shouted, reaching up into the rafters. She pulled down a musty, dusty old book. “Nancy Drew book number two. The Hidden Staircase! It’s like the one I got from the library, only way old.”

Holy macaroni! Judy barely dared to breathe.

“I bet this is one of the first Nancy Drew books ever. It must be worth a bazillion dollars!” Alyssa cracked open the book. “Look! She wrote something in fancy handwriting.”

Judy peered over Alyssa’s shoulder, reading the inscription.

Dear Girl in the Future,

If you are holding this book, you have solved my Mystery in the Attic Rafters.

You are just like Nancy Drew!

A. S.

“Same-same!” said Judy, grinning at Alyssa.