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happened at the Hanson cabin when my mom told my dad about a call from Auntie Elizabeth last summer. She had asked Mom to keep a special eye on Auntie Liv, who was traveling home from the Black Hills of South Dakota to Fort Collins with a wounded dog named Beulah. I almost blew my spy cover by letting loose a screech, since I’d never been around a dog before and knew Auntie Liv would let me play with her. But I stayed quiet and listened. My mom tried to whisper as she told my dad that Auntie Liv had killed a man and thatnot only had the FBI approved of what she’d done, but they also had asked her to become one of them.
    Then I did blow it. A squeal raced through my throat before I could catch it. It must have echoed down the vent, because my parents stopped talking. When they opened my door to check on me. I pretended to be laughing at something outside my window, but really I was just so excited that Auntie Liv was going to be an FBI agent.
    I’ve dreamed of being a spy, which I know would be a perfect job for me considering my superpowers of being invisible, having bionic ears, owning a bionic eye (as long as I don’t lose my contact lens), and being a human lie detector. That’s what Auntie Liv calls my ability to sense other peoples’ feelings and truths. People, especially grownups, tend to say things to me that they won’t share with others.
    Auntie Liv’s not Critical Mass. She’s cool. Auntie Elizabeth says Auntie Liv is the epicenter for everything crazy, which doesn’t sound like Auntie Liv to me. But I don’t know what an epicenter is. I just know she isn’t crazy. She’s funny. And kind and gentle. And real. Most of all, she knows about my secret life as a spy. And we solve mysteries together.
    She said she had something to talk with me about, but Mom made her and Auntie Elizabeth do last-minute grocery shopping before the stores close. They’re trying to get Christmas Eve dinner ready. Dad’s downstairs talking to Uncle Michael and I’m struggling to hear Uncle Michael’s story about what happened today over the constant blowing of hot air through the vents. It’s so snowy and cold today that Emma’s afraid Santa won’t come. I told her he will. He always does. No matter how cold it gets.
    Uncle Michael asked where I was and Dad said I was upstairs napping. Then he asked my dad about Emma. Dad said she was downstairs playing Barbies. But I really wasn’t paying attention until Uncle Michael told my dad not to tell my mom. So I had to find out what it was that he wanted to keep secret. He said Auntie Liv got injured today when they were up in the woods west of town working with Beulah on trailing in the Rocky Mountains. And apparently stuff had happened. Like always.
    I strained to hear every word through the heater working overtime. Beulah, the big red bloodhound, lay next to me in the sunlight streaming through my window, fast asleep, snoring away, which made it even harderto hear. Whatever Uncle Michael was telling Dad had affected Auntie Liv a lot more than it had Beulah.
    For a moment, the hot air stopped blowing and Beulah’s snoring settled into a breathing pattern of deep sleep. I heard my mom’s voice, dashing all hopes that I would hear what happened. Bodies moved about and chitchat began as groceries were unloaded and the holiday cooking began.
    I heard Auntie Liv’s muffled voice as she approached my door. “Just a minute. Frances asked me to check on Noah and then I’ll tell you what happened. I’ve got to find somewhere quiet where I can talk. I’ll call you right back.”
    My door creaked open and I heard her tiptoe toward where I lay. The big picture window Dad installed special for me that reaches all the way from floor to ceiling was my window to the world. I spend a lot of time here, and anyone who knows me knows that. But Auntie Liv also knows that I prefer being by the window because of the vent. With my face turned toward the sun, I closed my eyes. I pretended to