service agents. I’m telling you, fireworks shot out of one of the windows in the FBI building!”
The president listened. “Call me as soon as you know anything, no matter how late!”
He flipped his phone shut and slipped it back into his pocket.
“What happened?” KC asked. “Were they really rockets?”
“We don’t know yet,” the president said. “But Mr. Smiley will have the fire department check it out.”
Within seconds, they heard sirens.
“Boy, that was fast!” Marshall said as the president’s car zoomed inside the presidential garage.
The president, Lois, and the two kids slipped through a private entrance to the White House. The president greeted a few guards, then entered an elevator. KC’s favorite marine guard, Arnold, saluted them as they stepped out.
“Were the fireworks exciting?” he asked.
“I’ll say!” Marshall blurted, making KC laugh.
When they were inside the residence, KC dropped into a chair at the kitchen table. She realized she had hardly taken a full breath since they’d seen the rockets at the FBI building.
George, the president’s cat, was lying in his bed near the stove. KC’s cats, Lost and Found, were cuddled up with him.
Suddenly the phone rang. KC jumped. She felt like a coiled spring.
The president must have felt the same way. He answered on the second ring. “Yes?” he said.
The president listened, nodding his head.
“Pizza?” he asked. He sounded surprised. “Okay, good job getting there so fast, Chief.”
“What about pizza?” Marshall asked after the president hung up.
“The fire department discovered which room those rockets were shot from,” the president answered. “And they found a burning pizza box in a trash basket.”
“Who shot off the rockets?” KC asked.
“The fire chief thinks it was an accident,” the president said. “Apparently, someone left a package of rockets on the desk right above the trash basket. The chief thinks a spark from the fireworks celebration flew in through the open window and set the pizza box on fire, and the fire lit the rockets.”
KC frowned. It seemed like an awfully big coincidence to her. But the president didn’t seem bothered.
“My cousin had some rockets last year,” Marshall said. “He told me they won’t fly if they’re lying flat when you light them. You have to set them in a special holder or stick them in the ground.”
The president had been reaching for a glass of water. But he set it back downwithout taking a sip. He looked serious.
“Marshall, it sounds as if you’re saying some person had to aim the rockets,” the president said. “They wouldn’t be able to launch themselves, even if a spark accidentally lit them. Right?”
Marshall nodded. “Right, sir.”
“Why would anyone want to shoot rockets out the FBI window?” KC asked the president.
“I don’t know,” he answered. “I’m going to the FBI building in the morning. We may have some answers by then.”
“Can Marshall and I go with you?” KC asked.
KC planned to become a Washington reporter after college. Deep down inside, KC felt this fireworks story was big, and she wanted to be in on it!
2
The Clue in the Trash Can
At ten the next morning, the president, KC, and Marshall left the White House for the FBI building. The black presidential car dropped them off in front of the broad marble steps.
A pair of marine guards came to attention outside the entrance. The two men reached for the doors and pulled them open.
“Thank you,” President Thornton said as he and the kids entered.
The director of the FBI waited just inside, in the lobby.
He shook the president’s hand. “Thefire chief is here already,” Desmond Smiley said. He led the president and the kids through the lobby, past the guard’s desk, to a small meeting room.
A large man in a blue suit stood up. “Good morning, Mr. President,” he said.
“Good morning, Chief,” the president said as everyone sat around a table.
The president listened. “Call me as soon as you know anything, no matter how late!”
He flipped his phone shut and slipped it back into his pocket.
“What happened?” KC asked. “Were they really rockets?”
“We don’t know yet,” the president said. “But Mr. Smiley will have the fire department check it out.”
Within seconds, they heard sirens.
“Boy, that was fast!” Marshall said as the president’s car zoomed inside the presidential garage.
The president, Lois, and the two kids slipped through a private entrance to the White House. The president greeted a few guards, then entered an elevator. KC’s favorite marine guard, Arnold, saluted them as they stepped out.
“Were the fireworks exciting?” he asked.
“I’ll say!” Marshall blurted, making KC laugh.
When they were inside the residence, KC dropped into a chair at the kitchen table. She realized she had hardly taken a full breath since they’d seen the rockets at the FBI building.
George, the president’s cat, was lying in his bed near the stove. KC’s cats, Lost and Found, were cuddled up with him.
Suddenly the phone rang. KC jumped. She felt like a coiled spring.
The president must have felt the same way. He answered on the second ring. “Yes?” he said.
The president listened, nodding his head.
“Pizza?” he asked. He sounded surprised. “Okay, good job getting there so fast, Chief.”
“What about pizza?” Marshall asked after the president hung up.
“The fire department discovered which room those rockets were shot from,” the president answered. “And they found a burning pizza box in a trash basket.”
“Who shot off the rockets?” KC asked.
“The fire chief thinks it was an accident,” the president said. “Apparently, someone left a package of rockets on the desk right above the trash basket. The chief thinks a spark from the fireworks celebration flew in through the open window and set the pizza box on fire, and the fire lit the rockets.”
KC frowned. It seemed like an awfully big coincidence to her. But the president didn’t seem bothered.
“My cousin had some rockets last year,” Marshall said. “He told me they won’t fly if they’re lying flat when you light them. You have to set them in a special holder or stick them in the ground.”
The president had been reaching for a glass of water. But he set it back downwithout taking a sip. He looked serious.
“Marshall, it sounds as if you’re saying some person had to aim the rockets,” the president said. “They wouldn’t be able to launch themselves, even if a spark accidentally lit them. Right?”
Marshall nodded. “Right, sir.”
“Why would anyone want to shoot rockets out the FBI window?” KC asked the president.
“I don’t know,” he answered. “I’m going to the FBI building in the morning. We may have some answers by then.”
“Can Marshall and I go with you?” KC asked.
KC planned to become a Washington reporter after college. Deep down inside, KC felt this fireworks story was big, and she wanted to be in on it!
2
The Clue in the Trash Can
At ten the next morning, the president, KC, and Marshall left the White House for the FBI building. The black presidential car dropped them off in front of the broad marble steps.
A pair of marine guards came to attention outside the entrance. The two men reached for the doors and pulled them open.
“Thank you,” President Thornton said as he and the kids entered.
The director of the FBI waited just inside, in the lobby.
He shook the president’s hand. “Thefire chief is here already,” Desmond Smiley said. He led the president and the kids through the lobby, past the guard’s desk, to a small meeting room.
A large man in a blue suit stood up. “Good morning, Mr. President,” he said.
“Good morning, Chief,” the president said as everyone sat around a table.
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