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bathroom or something. That would be bad.
    â€œIt’s another passageway,” Misti said. “It’s just like the other one, except a little skinnier.”
    â€œGood grief, where could it go?” Laurie said, struggling to her feet. “Okay, Bud. Penlight. We’ve got to figure this out.”
    Bud got up and handed Laurie the penlight. “Sounds good to me.”
    Suddenly the room was filled with harsh electronic music.
    â€œOh, GOOD GRIEF!” Misti said, grabbing at her pocket.
    â€œWhat the heck?” Bud said. “What is that?”
    â€œâ€˜Samba Beat #5,’” Misti grumbled, pulling her neon-pink phone out of her pocket and pushing a button. “Hi, Mom, what’s up?” She held a finger up at Bud and Laurie and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I know what time it is. Yeah, I know I was supposed to be home. Fine. Okay. Fine. Bye.” She pushed another button a little harder than it looked like she had to. “Well, guess what.”
    â€œYou have to go,” Laurie guessed.
    â€œYeah! She’s all ticked off just because I’m a little late.” Misti shoved the phone back in her pocket.
    Bud got up. “Well, that settles it. We definitely don’t tell anybody. And we come back tomorrow and explore that passageway. Deal?”
    â€œDeal.” Laurie said. “Tomorrow.”
    Laurie, Bud, and Misti peeked out of the shed, carefully scanning the yard for any signs of Calliope, tour groups,teachers, nosy squirrels, hidden cameras—anything at all that might pay too much attention to them. When the coast seemed to be clear, they hurried one by one across the lawn, trying to act as normal as possible. With varying degrees of success.
    Candy Winkle watched Misti Pinkerton twirling and fist punching her way across the school driveway, and tapped her fingertip on her lips thoughtfully.
    EMAIL
    FROM: CANDY WINKLE
    TO: PRINCIPAL MARTIN WINKLE
    SUBJECT: Potential Tour Addict
    Honey,
    I was going through the sign-up sheet for tomorrow’s tours, and that man is back again—the one that I told you about? He’s come for the tour every day this week, and today he was even trying to talk to the kids. Do I need to cut him off? Is he addicted to our tours? I know my speech is fascinating, but I’m worried that he’s a bit obsessed.
    Kisses,
    Candy
    P.S. The kids are a bit . . . unusual, aren’t they?
    EMAIL
    FROM: PRINCIPAL MARTIN WINKLE
    TO: CANDY WINKLE
    SUBJECT: Keep an Eye on Him
    Snookie Bear,
    I don’t like him talking to the kids. If he goes near them again, then yes, we’ll take steps. But otherwise, I don’t think we need to worry just yet. As long as he’s paying and not bothering anyone, I don’t think there’s any harm in it. (And don’t forget how many times I took the library tour in college when you were working there!) I’ll bring it up with Police Chief Burkiss too, just to see what he says.
    See you tonight!
    Your Lambikins
    P.S. Yes, unusual is an understatement.
----
    â€œSo, did you see the thing in the paper? About Maria Tutweiler?” Laurie said as she blopped salad dressing onto her salad.
    â€œI saw it,” Laurie’s mom said, frowning at Laurie’sbowl. “You know, you don’t have to drown the poor lettuce. It’s already dead.”
    Laurie made a face and handed the dressing to her brother, Jack. “And?”
    â€œAnd what?” Laurie’s mom scooped out some noodle casserole. “And I didn’t give it much thought.”
    â€œAren’t you worried, though? He says she was a criminal! With secrets!” Laurie didn’t know what kind of secrets Walker LeFranco was talking about, but whatever they were, she knew they couldn’t be good. He could even know about the secret room, and she sure didn’t want that in the paper.
    Laurie’s dad smiled at her and handed her the basket of rolls. “Laurie, think