Vanishing Acts

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Authors: Leslie Margolis
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said.
    â€œInteresting that you say three,” said Ms. Murphy. “Given what I know about you, I figured there would be three tree houses.”
    Cindy smiled. “Obviously you’re familiar with my work. And there were supposed to be three, but let’s just say things didn’t work out as I planned. Well, not exactly. And I’m afraid I can’t say anything more about that. So thank you for your time, everyone.” She gave us a small wave and said, “Ta-ta.”
    Ms. Murphy thanked Cindy, and we all gave her a round of applause.
    â€œThis really was wonderful,” said Ms. Murphy. “A true honor and privilege, and you’ll be happy to knowthat the entire seventh grade is going to be writing reports about your life and work.”
    â€œThat’s lovely!” said Cindy, ignoring the groans from my classmates.
    I wish I agreed with her. But more than that—I wish I’d paid better attention.

Chapter 9

    After school and dog walking and a fruitless search for the egger, I was exhausted and starving. When I got home, I found Finn playing video games in the living room. Our apartment was silent except for the bleeps and whirs of his game; something involving a track meet in space.
    â€œHey,” I said.
    â€œMom and Dad are both working late, but they left us money for pizza,” Finn reported.
    I sat down next to him. “Want to order?” I asked.
    â€œNah, let’s go out.” He turned off the TV, stood up, and stretched. “I need air.”
    â€œWhere to?” I asked.
    â€œThe Pizza Den,” he replied like it was obvious, and I guess it should’ve been. The Pizza Den is one of our favorite hangouts. The pizza isn’t exactly delicious,but there are other reasons to go: it’s close, it’s cheap, and most importantly, pretty much everyone we know goes there.
    â€œOkay, hold on a minute,” I said, and quickly headed into our room to change out of my dirty jeans and into some less dirty ones.
    As we headed to Seventh Avenue, I asked, “Hey, how come you’re home so early, anyway? Doesn’t Jones usually keep you longer?”
    â€œYup, but this afternoon Mom’s friend Jenna intervened and accused him of violating child labor laws.”
    â€œNo way!” I said.
    â€œWay,” Finn replied. “Turns out, kids are only allowed to work for a certain amount of hours in a row. And shooting went over the limit last night. Apparently this happens all the time on productions, and if we’re not complaining, she shouldn’t be—that’s what Jones argued, anyway. But Jenna didn’t agree. She called the police, and they showed up and stopped the cameras.”
    â€œHe must’ve been furious,” I said. “Did he throw a huge tantrum?”
    â€œEpic,” Finn said with a sly grin. “Jenna was totally ruthless. The woman is completely intent on shutting this production down, by any means necessary.”
    â€œThat’s crazy!” I said.
    â€œIt is, in a way,” said Finn. “But to be honest withyou, I wouldn’t mind if they had to stop. It’s been a long, boring two days of standing around.”
    â€œI told Lucy not to bother asking you. I still can’t believe you volunteered.”
    Finn shrugged. “So how’s the dog-egging case?”
    â€œTerrible! Dogs are being egged every day, and I have no idea who’s behind it. The entire thing just seems so random.”
    â€œIf it weren’t for this dumb Seth Ryan movie, I’d totally help,” Finn said, pulling out his iPod. “Mind if I listen to music the rest of the way? Red just burned this new album for me, and I haven’t had time to listen to it.”
    He plugged in his earbuds before I could respond, but I didn’t mind. It gave me time to think about my case. According to the blogs I’d been reading, three new dogs had been attacked this week: a

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