A Spy in the White House Read online

  This is for Cabby, super cat.

  —R.R.

  Contents

  1. Who’s Listening?

  2. There’s a Spy in the White House

  3. The Stranger’s Voice

  4. Two Suspects

  5. The Truth

  6. Spying on Spies

  7. Motorcycle Meeting

  8. The Fish Takes the Bait!

  9. The Cat Wore White

  1

  Who’s Listening?

  “Come on down, George Washington. It’s time to go outside,” KC said.

  The presidents cat, George, was sitting on top of the refrigerator.

  “Will you get him down, Marshall?” KC asked. “We have to practice for the wedding.”

  KC Corcoran and Marshall Li were best friends. They lived in Washington, D.C. But today, they were in the White House. KC’s mom was going to marry the President of the United States next week!

  KC would hold her mom’s flowers during the ceremony, and Marshall would be the ring bearer—with George’s help.

  “What’s to practice?” Marshall grumbled. “Your mom says ‘I do,’ then the president says ‘I do,’ then it’s over.”

  KC rolled her eyes. “This is a White House wedding, Marsh,” she said. “Everything has to be perfect. The whole world will be watching on TV!”

  Marshall raised his eyebrows. “I’ll be on TV?” he asked.

  KC nodded. “We’ll all be on TV,” she said. “Even George. That’s why we have to practice making him walk down the aisle.”

  Marshall grabbed George while KC opened the door that led out of the president’s private quarters.

  Arnold, the marine guard on duty, saluted them. “Afternoon, KC,” he said. “Afternoon, Marshall.”

  “Hi, Arnold,” the kids said.

  Arnold took off one white glove and stroked George under the chin. Then he sneezed.

  “Are you allergic to cats?” Marshall asked.

  Arnold sniffed. “No, I have a cold and a sore throat,” he said with a hoarse voice. KC noticed that Arnolds nose was red. His eyes looked watery and puffy.

  “I hope you feel better for the wedding,” KC said.

  “Thanks,” Arnold said. “Ill try.”

  KC and Marshall left Arnold and walked to the rose garden. Marshall set George down, and KC tied a green ribbon to his collar.

  “Why does George need a silly green ribbon?” Marshall asked. “What’s wrong with a piece of rope or something?”

  “The ribbon matches Mom’s dress, my dress, and your vest,” KC reminded him. “The wedding is color-coordinated!”

  “Maybe I’ll get sick like Arnold,” Marshall muttered. He looked at his hand. “You know, my skin does look a little green.”

  “Perfect, you’ll fit right into the color scheme!” KC crowed. “Let’s get started.”

  KC pulled a wad of string from her pocket and made a long, straight line on the lawn. “This is where we have to walk,” she said to Marshall. “The wedding guests will be sitting in chairs on both sides.”

  “I know that,” said Marshall. “But someone had better explain it to George.”

  George was half under a bush, investigating a line of ants.

  “Get him out of there before his ribbon gets tangled,” KC said.

  Marshall tugged George out from under the bush and set him down near the string.

  “Okay!” KC began humming the wedding march. She took small steps over to where the president would be waiting.

  “Now it’s time for the rings,” KC called to Marshall.

  “Come on, George, let’s walk,” said Marshall as he bent to pick up the cat’s ribbon. But George had a different idea. He bolted across the lawn, the ribbon flying behind him.

  “Hey, that’s the wrong way!” Marshall yelled. He and KC chased after George, who disappeared in some shrubbery.

  “Marsh, why’d you let him run away?” KC asked. She peeked into a thorny bush covered with pink rose blossoms.

  “I didn’t let him do anything!” Marshall said. “I’m not an animal trainer, you know.”

  “I hope he doesn’t take off during the wedding,” KC said. “He’ll have the wedding rings around his neck.”

  “That’s why we’re practicing,” Marshall said. “And so far it’s a big flop!”

  The kids searched under all the rosebushes. No George.

  They crawled on their hands and knees and peeked under the hedges. George stayed out of sight.

  They looked up in the tall trees that lined the fences surrounding the White House. They saw birds and squirrels, but no large, fluffy cat with a green ribbon tied to his collar.

  Twenty minutes later, they still hadn’t found George. They had searched most of the grounds around the White House.

  “Should we check outside the fence?” Marshall asked. “Maybe he snuck under.”

  “I know!” KC said. She dug a bag of Kitty Kandy out of her pocket and started shaking it.

  Traffic whizzed by on Pennsylvania Avenue. Horns honked, brakes squealed, and a motorcycle roared past.

  “George will never hear you rattling that stuff,” Marshall said.

  Just then George walked out of the hedges. KC gave Marshall a look.

  Marshall ignored her and picked up George. “Bad cat!” he said. “You could get smushed out there!”

  KC gave George a treat and put the bag back in her pocket. “That’s weird. George smells like mint. I think he’s been in the herb garden,” she told Marshall.

  Marshall rolled his eyes. “You’re just imagining another mystery,” he teased.

  KC checked her watch. “Well, there’s one thing I’m not imagining. We’ve got to go! The press conference is starting!”

  “Can’t we skip it?” Marshall asked. “Let’s go to Rock Creek Park and look for bugs!”

  “We can go to the park anytime,” KC said. “But how often does my mom marry the president?”

  “You really want to see all those reporters,” Marshall said.

  “I can’t help it,” KC said. “Someday when I’m a big Washington reporter, maybe I’ll interview you!”

  She and Marshall hurried to the Oval Office. When they burst through the door, they saw about twenty reporters waving their hands and aiming microphones toward the president.

  KC’s mom and the president were sitting side by side on a long white sofa. Lois smiled at KC and patted the seat next to hers.

  KC sat down by her mom. George jumped out of Marshall’s arms and hopped onto President Thornton’s lap.

  KC felt embarrassed when everyone stared at her. Her mother took her hand and squeezed it.

  Marshall watched from the back of the room. For the next fifteen minutes, the president and Lois answered a lot of questions. Everyone wanted to know how they met. Everyone wanted to know about the wedding and who would be invited.

  Then one female reporter asked the president where he and Lois were going on their honeymoon.

  “We’re keeping that information in the family,” the president said, smiling as the cameras clicked away.

  “Ms. Corcoran, can you tell us about your wedding dress?” the woman asked. “What does it look like? Who designed it for you?”

  KC had seen her mother’s pale green dress. It was hanging in a closet upstairs in the White House. KC thought it was the most gorgeous dress in the world. She couldn’t wait to see her mother wear it on her wedding day.

  “That’s going to be a surprise for the wedding,” Lois said. “But I can tell you this much—it’s beautiful!”

  The president set George on the floor and stood up. “I’m afraid that has to be the last question,” he said. “Lois and I have a lot of plans to make. Thank you all for co
ming!”

  The reporters gathered their stuff and filed out of the room.

  “Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” the president asked when all the press had gone.

  “Why didn’t you say where you’re going on your honeymoon?” Marshall asked.

  “We don’t want a thousand reporters and helicopters buzzing around,” the president said. He took Lois by the hand. “Now let’s go find out what’s for lunch.”

  The next morning, KC, her mom, and Marshall arrived at the White House to have breakfast with the president. They found him in his dining room, staring at the newspaper

  “You’re not going to believe this,” the president said. He turned the paper so they could all see.

  Covering almost the whole front page was a picture of the Island Paradise Hotel in Maui, Hawaii. Beneath the picture were these words:

  PRESIDENT AND BRIDE TO

  HONEYMOON IN HAWAIIAN

  ISLAND HOTEL

  2

  There’s a Spy in the White House

  “How did they find out?” KC asked.

  “I wish I knew,” the president said grimly. “They even found the hotel on Maui.”

  He glanced at Lois, KC, and Marshall. “I don’t suppose any of you accidentally let the cat out of the bag?”

  “I certainly didn’t,” Lois said. “I want our honeymoon to be private.”

  “I didn’t either,” said KC.

  They all looked at Marshall.

  “I know how to keep a secret!” cried Marshall. “Besides, I didn’t know the name of the hotel.”

  “Well, someone found out, and they told Darla Darling,” Lois said.

  Darla Darling wrote the society column for the Star newspaper. Her picture was at the top of her column.

  “I saw her at the press conference yesterday,” Marshall told them.

  “Yes, she was the reporter who asked about the honeymoon and my dress,” Lois said.

  “Maybe someone at the hotel blabbed to her,” Marshall suggested.

  The president shook his head. “The hotel people in Hawaii didn’t know our real names,” he said. “Lois and I were registered as Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”

  “Well, I’m going to get to the bottom of this,” Lois said. She picked up a telephone and called the newspaper. She asked to speak to Darla Darling. A few seconds later, she hung up.

  “Her voice mail,” Lois explained. “ ‘Ms. Darling is on assignment and not available.’”

  The president picked up a different telephone and asked Vice President Mary Kincaid to come in. When she arrived, the president showed her the newspaper.

  “How did Darla Darling find out?” the vice president asked. “That was top-secret information!”

  “None of us leaked it,” the president said. “Could it have been someone on my staff?”

  “I can’t imagine that,” Mary said. “They knew you and Lois wanted your honeymoon spot kept a secret.”

  “Secret or not, Darla Darling found out,” Lois said. “And she didn’t hear it from some little bird!”

  “No, but it could have been a little bug,” Marshall said.

  Everyone looked at him.

  “What do you mean, Marshall?” the president asked.

  Marshall pointed to the flower vase on the table. “Someone could have planted a bug!” he whispered.

  KC gasped. “Do you think?” She got up and walked around the room, peering into small spaces.

  “It’s not likely that anyone could have gotten a listening device in here,” the president said. “These rooms are very secure.”

  “Marshall may have a point. I’ll have the place swept just to be sure,” Mary Kincaid said. “Meanwhile, will you two be choosing a different place for your honeymoon?”

  “Definitely,” the president said. He looked across the table at Lois. “How about—”

  “Shhh,” Lois whispered, grinning. “The walls may have ears. We’ll talk about it later.”

  “At least Darla Darling didn’t find out about your dress,” KC said to her mother.

  Lois smiled. “It’s the most beautiful dress in the world,” she said. “Michael is a genius!”

  During the night, the FBI checked the president’s private residence for bugs. They found nothing.

  The next morning, a drawing of Lois’s wedding dress took up almost all of Darla Darling’s column in the newspaper.

  There was even a picture of Michael, the man who had designed the dress. The headline over the picture read:

  NEW FIRST LADY’S DRESS IS

  GRAND, GREEN, AND GORGEOUS!

  3

  The Stranger’s Voice

  KC dashed into her mothers bedroom with the newspaper. Lois was still asleep, but not for long.

  “Mom, wake up! Look at this!”

  Lois rolled over and blinked at her excited daughter. Then she looked at the clock. “Honey, it’s only seven o’clock. What’s so important?”

  “I went downstairs to get the paper. Look!” KC held the newspaper in front of her mother. “They found out about your dress!”

  Lois looked at the pictures and read the headline. “Oh my goodness,” she whispered. Then she reached for the telephone and called the president.

  While her mom showered and dressed, KC called Marshall. He lived in her apartment building, two floors down. The phone rang five times before KC heard someone pick up.

  “Niagara Falls, drop over,” Marshall’s sleepy voice said into KC’s ear.

  “Have you seen today’s newspaper?” KC nearly shouted.

  “I’m still in bed, KC,” Marshall said. “All I see is my pillow.”

  “You’re not going to believe it,” KC said. “Get dressed and meet us in the lobby in fifteen minutes!”

  A half hour later, KC, her mom, and Marshall met the president in his private White House rooms. He was sitting at the table in the little kitchen. His hair was messed up and he hadn’t shaved. The newspaper was spread out on the table. Yvonne, the presidents private maid, set bagels, glasses, and a pitcher of orange juice on the counter, then left the room.

  “This is so creepy!” Marshall said, staring at the newspaper. “How did they find out?”

  “This drawing of my dress isn’t exactly right,” Lois muttered. “But it’s close enough. And the only people who knew what the dress looked like were the four of us, the vice president, and Michael.”

  “Maybe Michael told Darla,” KC suggested.

  Lois shook her head. “No. Michael never talks about his clients. He has to keep secrets, or he wouldn’t last long in the dress-designing business. Besides, I never told him where we were going on our honeymoon.”

  “How about the people who work for him?” the president asked.

  “Only Michael knew who the dress was really for,” Lois said. “I told him to write L. Smith on the order.”

  Marshall got himself a bagel and dropped a small piece on the floor. George leaped from the refrigerator to the counter, then to the floor. He pounced on the morsel and carried it to a corner.

  “I don’t understand it,” KC said. “How could someone be listening? Didn’t the FBI check for bugs last night?”

  “Yes, they gave this place a thorough going-over,” the president said.

  Lois sighed. “Well, I wanted to keep my wedding dress a secret, but now the world knows.”

  “I’m sorry about your dress,” the president said. “But if someone has managed to learn our wedding secrets, they might also be overhearing other things we talk about.” He glanced around the table. “Like national security.”

  Marshall’s eyes widened. “You mean top-secret information?”

  “That’s exactly what I mean,” President Thornton said. He glanced at Lois. “Maybe we should postpone the wedding till we clear this up.”

  “You can’t cancel the wedding!” KC cried.

  “Oh, we’ll still get married,” the president said. “But maybe we should put it off till we find out what’s going on.�
�

  “Zachary is right,” KC’s mom said. “We can hardly go on our honeymoon if there’s a spy in the White House!”

  “I’ll get to the bottom of this mystery,” the president said. “Right now, I’m going to get the FBI back in here for another bug check!”

  “And I’m going to call the hotel in Hawaii and tell them the Smiths have changed their mind,” Lois said. “Then I’ll think about a different dress.”

  The president and KC’s mom left the room with George tagging along behind them.

  “Come on,” KC told Marshall. “I have an idea.”

  “I do, too,” Marshall said, following KC past Arnold and into the hallway. “I want to go to Rock Creek Park. The bugs will just be coming out to sun themselves on the rocks.”

  “I promise we’ll go to the park, just not right now,” KC said. “Don’t you want to figure out who’s spying on my mom and the president?”

  “Okay, what’s your idea?” Marshall asked as he and KC left the White House.

  “We’re going to see Darla Darling,” KC said.

  “That society lady?” Marshall yelped. “Oh, great. Just what I need. She’ll probably make us drink tea out of itty-bitty cups. I’ll be bored to death!”

  “Marsh, Darla Darling started this whole thing,” KC said. “She may be the link to whoever is spying on the White House!”

  KC and Marshall kept walking along Pennsylvania Avenue until they reached the offices of the Star newspaper. Opposite the front door was a big desk. A woman with blond hair sat there typing at a keyboard. Through a doorway on the right, KC could see people working at computers and talking on telephones. A doorway on the left opened on a long, empty hallway.

  The woman with blond hair looked up. “May I help you?” she asked.

  “We’re here to see Darla Darling,” KC said.

  The woman squinted at KC. “Do you have an appointment?” she asked. “Ms. Darling is very busy.”

  “I’m KC Corcoran. My mom is marrying the president,” KC said.

  The woman’s eyes widened. She reached for her telephone and dialed. “Hello, Darla, there’s a Miss Corcoran here to see you. No, not Lois Corcoran. It’s her daughter.”

  Five seconds later, KC and Marshall heard footsteps tapping down the hallway. A tall woman with broad shoulders was striding toward them. She wore a black pants suit and black high-heeled boots. Her dark, curly hair bounced when she walked.