Fireworks at the FBI Read Online Free Page B

Marshall mumbled. “We just spied on the president!”
    KC didn’t say anything. She was frowning and her forehead was wrinkled in thought. “Marsh, I kind of feel sorry for Mr. Cellucci,” KC said, after a moment.
    “Yeah,” Marshall said. “Mr. Cellucci seemed like a nice man, not a crook.”
    KC shrugged and dropped the subject. Then she looked at her watch. “You know, if we hurry, we can go to the dog track and pick out a greyhound before lunchtime.”
    “Sure, I think we’ve got this case wrapped up,” Marshall said.
    “It’s weird,” KC said as they headed off the White House grounds. “Usually, I feel happy when the bad guy is caught.”
    On Pennsylvania Avenue, they walked toward the subway station. While theywaited for a train, KC studied the printout from the greyhound Web site.
    Marshall was reading an advertisement for a company called Globe Travel. The large ad showed a map of the world. Across the top were small clocks showing what time it was in major cities.
    “Look, when it’s three o’clock in D.C., it’s only noon in California,” Marshall said. “They’re eating lunch!”
    KC laughed. “You just had breakfast!”
    “What time is it?” he asked KC.
    “Ten-thirty,” she said. She lifted her eyes from the Web site printout and glanced at the small clocks that showed different time zones.
    Marshall counted on his fingers. “This is so cool. It’s ten-thirty here, but in Tokyo it’s already eleven-thirty tonight!”
    KC nodded. “They’re thirteen hours ahead of us,” she said. Then something made her check the time in London, England. It was three-thirty in the afternoon there.
    “Marsh, do you remember Mr. Rinkel telling the president about that phone call he was expecting last night?” she asked.
    “Sort of,” Marshall said. “What about it?”
    “He said he was expecting a call from London when it was nine o’clock here,” KC reminded him. “That’s why he used his cell phone to tell Mr. Cellucci to send up the pizza guy.”
    “So?” Marshall said. “He didn’t want to use the FBI’s phone because he was waiting for the call.”
    “But it would have been two o’clock in the morning in London,” KC said. “Aweird time for anyone to be calling the FBI, right?”
    Marshall did some more finger math. “Maybe he thought it was five hours in the other direction. That would make it four in the afternoon in London.”
    “Except that’s wrong,” KC said. She pointed at the travel poster in the window. “London is five hours ahead of our time, not five hours behind. Besides that, the FBI must have more than one phone line. So Mr. Rinkel didn’t have to use his cell phone to call down to the lobby.”
    Marshall shook his head. “I don’t get what you’re thinking,” he said.
    A brown train to Rockville came along and slowed in front of the kids.
    “What I’m thinking,” KC said as the train stopped, “is that Mr. Rinkel is lying!”

7
A Familiar Face
    The ride to Rockville, Maryland, took a half hour. When they stepped off the train, KC was reading the printout again. “It says there’s a shuttle bus to the dog track,” she said.
    KC and Marshall looked around.
    “There it is!” Marshall said.
    Parked next to the station was a purple van. The words RIVERBANK RACETRACK were painted on the side, over a picture of a racing greyhound. KC and Marshall ran over to it.
    A man was sitting behind the wheel, reading a newspaper.
    “Are you leaving for the track soon?” KC asked.
    The man glanced at her with twinkly blue eyes. “Are you old enough to bet?” he asked.
    KC giggled. “No, I’m going to adopt a greyhound,” she said.
    The man nodded. “Nice idea,” he said. “Those poor dogs have a hard life. Do you have a big yard?”
    Marshall laughed. “It’s huge!” he said.
    The man started the engine. “Have a seat, please,” he said. “We’ll be there in ten minutes!”
    Soon the purple van drove through a gate under a sign that read