With desperate poachers on their trail, Sammy and her fellow campers have just been added to the endangered species list. "Think a combination of Carl Hiaasen's Flush and Janet Evanovich's "Stephanie Plum" and you'll be right on target" -- School Library Journal This is not the summer camping trip of Sammy's dreams. Instead of shady glades and meandering streams, she gets scrubby shrubs, blazing sun, and rattlesnakes. Her fellow campers are desperate to catch a rare glimpse of an endangered condor. To Sammy, the trip feels like the painful in pursuit of the unspeakably ugly. But when she and two other girls find an injured condor, Sammy's intrigued at last. As they track down a clue, they stumble onto two classmates and promptly get lost. Which leaves three girls and two boys in a canyon with one tent a sick condor and six billion biting flies. Oh--and an armed and dangerous highstakes poacher. Praise for the Sammy Keyes series:   “Van Draanen offers such an explosive combination of high-stakes sleuthing, hilarity, and breathlessly paced action that it’s impossible to turn the pages fast enough.” — Kirkus Reviews  “There’s no stopping Sammy.”— Publishers Weekly “An intelligent, gutsy, flawed, and utterly likable heroine.”— Booklist "Move over, Nancy Drew—a new sleuth is on the scene.”— Girls’ Life "Think a combination of Carl Hiaasen’s  Flush  and Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum books and you’ll be right on target.” — School Library Journal “A high-quality, high-amp mystery series.” — The Horn Book   “This funny, clever series is NOT for kids only. I challenge the most seasoned mystery reader to guess ‘who done it.’” — Cozies, Capers, and Crimes   “Sammy Keyes comes armed with attitude.” — Orlando Sentinel “Sammy doesn’t find mysteries to solve—they find her.” — Arizona Republic “Humor, romance and adventure; this story is an absolute blast.”  —Chicago Tribune   “If you haven’t met Sammy Keyes yet, now is the time.” — Children’s Literature WENDELIN VAN DRAANEN was a classroom teacher for many years before becoming a full-time writer. The books in the Sammy Keyes mystery series have been embraced by critics and readers alike, with  Sammy Keyes and the Hotel Thief  receiving the Edgar Allan Poe Award for best children’s mystery. Wendelin is also the author of many award-winning novels, including  Flipped,   The Running Dream,   Runaway, Confessions of a Serial Kisser,   Swear to Howdy,   The Secret Life of Lincoln Jones, and Wild Bird.  You can find her online at WendelinVanDraanen.com and @WendelinVanD, and you can follow Sammy Keyes on Facebook. One If Marissa or Holly or Dot had been around, I wouldn't have been thinking about Casey Acosta at all. But since they weren't around, and since Casey does qualify as a friend (even though he's my archenemy Heather's brother), okay, I admit it--he had crossed my mind. More than once. Partly that was because I'd seen him at the mall a couple of times during the first few days of summer break. Marissa was with me the first time, and she practically choked my arm off with her grip when she spotted him coming out of Sports Central. "Sammy, look! It's Casey." I wanted to say, So? but it just didn't come out. Then he spotted us, and the three of us wound up cruising through the mall, laughing the whole afternoon away. It was fun. Like being with friends should be. The second time I was by myself. I'd escaped the Senior Highrise, cruised the whole town on my skateboard looking for something, anything to do, and finally I'd wound up at the mall. Did I go to the arcade? No. Did I go to the music store? No. To any of the clothing stores? No. Like a moronic moth to the flame, I fluttered over to the only place I'd ever bumped into Casey at the mall--Sports Central. Now, I've got every right to go into a sporting goods store. I like sports. But I didn't go inside. I stood outside, pretending to window-shop, with my heart racing and my hands sweating, a shouting match going on inside my head. "What are you doing?" "I don't know!" "Why don't you just go inside!" "Because I don't need anything!" "So what! Just go inside!" "Why?" "Because standing out here is the lamest thing you've ever done in your whole entire life!" It was, too. I felt like one of those dingbat girls who walks back and forth past some guy's house, hoping he'll notice her. How stupid did I want to be? And what were the chances of Casey being here again? Why didn't I just call him up if I wanted to hang out with him? So there I was, in the middle of a total mental spaz-out, when all of a sudden someone sneaks up behind me and pokes me in the ribs. Before I can even think about what I'm doing, my elbow jabs back, punching deep into someone's stomach, and then wham, my fist flies up and back, smacking them in the face. And when I spin around, who do I see doubled up on the floor with blood coming out of his nose? Nope, not Casey. It's his goofball friend, Billy Pratt. Casey is there,