At home I opened my computer, ready to look for more clues. Surely Heath Hall had to have said something to give himself away at some point. Right away I zeroed in on his latest post. Heath Hall: I’ll be at the museum on Tenth Street this Thursday sometime between the hours of 7 and 10.

He’d given another location.

I pulled out my cell and dialed Amelia’s number.

She answered the phone with the words, “I saw. That’s Abby’s museum. They have a show this week. Do you think he’s trying to ruin it?”

“I don’t know if he’s trying to, but that always seems to be the end result. So are we going?” I asked.

“Of course.”

“Ms. Lin would be so proud,” I said. Ms. Lin was the art teacher at school. I had never taken art, but she was my mentor teacher and was constantly trying to get me to change this fact.

“I know. That’s why we shouldn’t tell her. She’ll think we’ve decided to become artists after all.”

“She thinks everyone’s an artist waiting to find themselves,” I said.

“So do you think I should warn Abby?” Amelia said. “Or my brother?”

“Yes, you should let them know there might be a disruption at the museum.” If someone had warned me, it might not have affected me so much.

“You know, Heath Hall busted that museum heist and saved the priceless painting in movie number three.”

“Um . . . so? You know this guy isn’t really Heath Hall. As we’ve been told a million times.”

“Maybe it’s a clue, though. Maybe he plans where to go based on the plots of the movies.”

“Has there been a movie that involved swimming?” I asked, searching my memory for that answer.

“He’s constantly swimming. Usually scuba diving to break into some fancy building,” Amelia said.

“But what does that have to do with the school pool?”

“Who knows? Maybe we’ll figure it out Thursday at seven. You and me at the museum.”

“For sure. Is this a dress-up kind of event?” I rarely wore dresses except once or twice a year for charity events my parents made me go to. My mom had picked out every single one of those dresses so I wasn’t even sure if I had anything that would work for this.

“Yes. I’ll find you a dress.”

Before I had a chance to say anything else, my door swung open. My mom stood in it holding up two T-shirts. “Which one do you like better?” she asked.

“Amelia, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you were on the phone,” Mom said after I hung up.