Kelsey can't resist collecting secrets in her spy notebook just like her hero, Harriet the Spy. When she learns Leo has been hiding something from the group, she writes his secret in her notebook as well. But when the notebook goes missing, everything she’s collected about classmates, friends, and family could be revealed to the world! After receiving a ransom note, Kelsey tries to solve the mystery on her own. But she soon realizes she needs help from everyone in the CCSC to rescue the notebook, help a homesick 130-year-old Aldabra tortoise, and unmask a thief. Linda Joy Singleton is the author of thirty-five books for children and young adults including YALSA-honored The Seer series and the Dead Girl trilogy. She lives in California. Kelsey the Spy By Linda Joy Singleton Albert Whitman & Company Copyright © 2016 Linda Joy Singleton All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-0-8075-1384-2 Contents Chapter 1: Follow That Suspect!, Chapter 2: Suspicions, Chapter 3: The Long Secret, Chapter 4: Mystery Solved, Chapter 5: Albert, Chapter 6: Notebook of Secrets, Chapter 7: Fit-Pic, Chapter 8: What I Found, Chapter 9: Secret's Out, Chapter 10: Keep Away, Chapter 11: A New Mystery, Chapter 12: Shell-Shocked, Chapter 13: Donut Danger, Chapter 14: Puzzling, Chapter 15: The Corning Comic, Chapter 16: Blocked, Chapter 17: Dino Tales, Chapter 18: Tortoise Trouble, Chapter 19: Cryptic Clue, Chapter 20: Sweet Celebration, Chapter 21: ChipTastic, Chapter 22: Accusations, Chapter 23: Follow That Smell!, Chapter 24: Cliffhanger, Chapter 25: Tortoise Tom, Chapter 26: Unmasked, CHAPTER 1 Follow That Suspect! My brother gets a phone call during breakfast. A guilty look crosses his face, and I know he has a secret. "Got to go!" Kyle shoves his phone into his pocket as he jumps up from the table. "But I'm making you another crepe Benedict." Dad frowns at Kyle. Chef Dad takes his cooking very seriously. "Give it to Kelsey." My brother is already dumping his dirty plate and silverware in the sink. "A friend needs my help." I study my brother, suspicious. Since we lost our house and moved into this apartment, all Kyle does is apply for college scholarships and study, study, study. He has zero social life. "What friend?" I ask him. "My buddy Jake really needs my help with, um, some heavy lifting. You remember him from our old neighborhood?" Oh, I remember him all right. I also remember the distinctive ringtone Kyle assigned to Jake's number — a blaring disaster alert. But the ringtone I just heard was music. Either Kyle changed the ringtone or he's lying. I sense a big whopper of a lie. I don't know who called Kyle, but it wasn't his buddy Jake. So I do what any spy would do. I follow him. Unfortunately I only take a few steps before Dad's voice stops me. "Kelsey, are you leaving too?" He sounds hurt. "Aren't you going to finish your crepe?" Drats. I've insulted Dad's culinary pride. Before Café Belmond closed, he was known as the best baker in Sun Flower. Now he can't find a job and is home way too much. "The crepe was delicious," I say. "It's just that I have to —" My brain goes blank. I have to ... Seriously, a good spy needs to create a believable story in a split-second. And Dad is staring at me the same way I just stared at Kyle: full-on suspicious. I can't use school as an excuse because it's Saturday. I can't say I'm full because I didn't finish eating my crepe. The only reason Kyle got away so easily was because he'd already devoured four crepes. "I'm late for a meeting at Becca's house." This isn't a lie. Leo sent a message saying he solved a mystery. (What mystery? I have no idea — it's a mystery to me!) He asked Becca and me to meet him at noon at the Skunk Shack. That's more than two hours from now, but a half-truth is more believable than a total lie. "What sort of meeting?" Dad asks. This is where belonging to a top-secret club gets tricky because I can't tell Dad about the Curious Cat Spy Club. Becca, Leo, and I started the CCSC to care for three rescued kittens. While our families know we're friends, they don't know we help animals by finding lost pets and solving mysteries. But I can talk about the Sparklers, a school volunteer group that Becca belongs to. I touch the silver crescent-moon necklace that the Sparklers loaned me since I'm helping them plan a booth for the Humane Society fund-raiser. "Becca and I are meeting to discuss ideas for the Sparkler booth," I tell Dad. "She can wait until you finish your breakfast." He gestures to my plate. "Another ten minutes won't matter." But in ten minutes Kyle could be gone. When all else fails, resort to bodily functions. "I have to go ..." I shift anxiously and glance down. "You know ... go. " "Oh." He nods, understanding. "Well, don't let me keep you." Before he can say any more, I'm out of the kitchen. I don't go farther than my brother's room, where I hear hurried footsteps and banging drawers. When the footsteps move