School-wide sabotage . . .Jerry Dooty extended his cupped paws. "I found these on the floor in Maureen’s office."We leaned closer. He held a bunch of little-bitty pieces of wood. Headless matchsticks."I thought they seemed a little . . . I don’t know, suspicious?" he whined. "Figured I’d take them to Principal Zero, see what he thought."Natalie frowned. "You think he’ll think she’s suspicious?""I think he’ll think she’s not thinking," said Mr. Dooty. "Maybe he’ll think she made the stink.""The stink?" I snapped. "You think?""I think." Jerry Dooty gave an elaborate shrug."But who cares what I think? I’m just the assistant janitor."Could he be right? Could my mongoose pal have sunk so low? I shook my head. Never in a million lunchtimes.Mr. Dooty shuffled past us, droning, "But I’ll tell you one thing—"Before he could finish his one thing, three things happened.First, Natalie sneezed. "Ha-CHOO!"Second, an eerie creaking, like the front doors to a thousand haunted houses, filled the air.And third, with a loud FOOMPF! the one-story building next to us collapsed.

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Excerpted from Dial M for Mongoose: A Chet Gecko Mystery by Bruce Hale
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