Amanda Lester and the Pink Sugar Conspiracy

When Amanda returned to her room, Ivy and Amphora were agog with news. It seemed that Nigel had found an interesting area of the garage, at least to him, but when Amphora had gone to look there had been nothing there.

  “I could have sworn that was the explosion’s point of origin,” said Amphora. “Although he isn’t trained as an explosive-sniffing dog, so I don’t know why I thought that. I guess it’s because he’s so smart.” She petted Nigel’s head. She seemed to be softening toward him at last.

  “Nigel is never wrong,” said Ivy, beaming. Amanda would have thought her friend was biased about her dog except that he really was the smartest, sweetest dog she’d ever known.

  “He doesn’t have a cold or anything, does he?” said Amanda, feeling the retriever’s nose.

  “No, but I guess his sense of smell could still be a bit off,” said Amphora, looking closely at the nose. “That smoke was pretty thick. And the dust. It’s still bothering me.”

  “I doubt that’s a problem,” said Ivy. “He’s smelling everything else properly. Although my nose is still bothering me too.” All of their noses were looking a bit red.

  “Maybe we just don’t understand how to tell where the point of origin is,” said Amphora.

  “What are you looking for?” said Amanda.

  “It should be the place with the worst damage,” said Ivy. “Maybe with some holes punched in the floor. Don’t you think that’s what would happen?”

  “That sounds right to me,” said Amanda. The Internet had said that, but she wasn’t sure. She wished she’d heard back from Darius Plover, although she knew it often took him a month to reply, and expecting an answer after a day or two was unrealistic.

  “Maybe we should forget about the point of origin and try something else,” said Ivy.

  She had a point. Amanda had explored the garage but she’d neglected the areas around it. She made a mental note to add peripheral exploration to her plan.

  When Amphora had left, Amanda took her phone out and opened her mail. Nothing from Darius Plover. Big duh. What was she expecting anyway? She should be grateful for the messages she’d received. He was a busy man with no time for twelve-year-old fans.