The Case of the Missing Dinosaur Egg Read Online Free Page A

my pen because that was five whole syllables, and Mr. Webb never says anything!
    Mr. Morgan nodded. “We were suspicious. Why did Professor Bohn insist the ostrich egg was only a harmless prank?”
    â€œUh . . .,” I said, “because that’s what he really thought?”
    â€œOr,” said Mr. Morgan, “because he wanted to delay a full investigation as long as possible. And there is something else. Late last night we made a call to Washington’s top ten p.m. news team: Jan and Larry.”
    â€œHey, wow—what a coincidence,” said Tessa. “We watch Jan and Larry, too!”
    Mr. Morgan nodded. “Everybody does. And when Mr. Webb and I heard the broadcast last night, we zeroed in on one thing: the identity of the ‘unnamed sources’ who told them about the egg’s link to politics in a certain nearby nation.”
    â€œJan and Larry don’t have to name their sources,” Nate said. “Freedom of the press is protected by the First Amendment to the Constitution.”
    â€œTrue,” said Mr. Morgan. “But when national security is involved, the news media is often willing to cooperate. Also, I went to high school with Jan.”
    â€œSo who told them?” Tessa asked.
    Mr. Morgan raised his eyebrows: “Professor Cordell Bohn.”
    Tessa shook her head. “Uh-oh, Cammie. This is not looking good.”
    Meanwhile, Granny said, “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You think Professor Bohn called Jan and Larry to suggest that the theft was connected to politics. You think he was trying to shift attention away from the truth—that he’s the thief.”
    Mr. Morgan nodded. “Exactly right.”
    I had more questions, but Charlotte looked at her watch. “Ahem? It is getting a bit late if the children are going to get to church.”
    Mr. Morgan and Mr. Webb stood up to leave. “We have a plane to catch.” They were on their way to Pittsburgh, Professor Bohn’s hometown, to continue their investigation.
    â€œWhat do you want us to do?” Tessa asked.
    â€œWhile we’re confident we have identified the thief,” said Mr. Morgan, “we lack the proof we need. What we’re hoping you can do is help us get that proof.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

    After fast good-byes, Granny hustled us into the Family Kitchen, which is also on the White House second floor. There, Tessa, Nate and I poured our coffee down the sink and grabbed bagels with peanut butter to eat on the way.
    Downstairs, three cars were waiting for us. Granny goes to one church, Aunt Jen and Nate go to another—and my family goes to the Methodist one by Dupont Circle. It’s the same one we started going to eight years ago when my mom got elected senator and we moved to Washington from California.
    I like going to church. Mom, Dad, Tessa and I get to be together. We sing. The light coming through the stained-glass windows makes pretty patterns on the floor.
    Because it was Palm Sunday, the service began with the choir coming in waving palm branches and calling, “Hosanna!” After that, we sang a hymn; then a ladyread Bible verses about how Jesus was the prophet of Nazareth.
    Finally, the pastor stood up to speak. I tried to pay attention, but I had so much to think about! Solving a new mystery and finding an ancient dinosaur egg sounded fun. Gathering evidence to prove a nice man was a thief? Not so fun. But maybe Mr. Morgan and Mr. Webb were wrong. Maybe the evidence would show that somebody else stole the dinosaur egg.
    I remembered what Mr. Morgan had said about the case and realized right away there was something that didn’t make sense, something that might be a clue: the wooden crate with the ostrich egg that showed up on Professor Rexington’s desk.
    How did it get there, anyway?
    I pictured a crate floating through the entrance of the museum and pushing buttons on the