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“Sorry, Butterbean, I’ll take you out afterward,” Madison said, patting Butterbean on the head. Butterbean wuffled in frustration.

“NO!” Mrs. Third Floor snapped. She jumped up and pointed at Butterbean like she’d seen a snake. Butterbean was a little offended, to be honest. “Take her, too!”

“What?” Madison jerked up in surprise.

“Take the dog. And the cat. All the animals. The bird? Maybe not the bird. But maybe?” She leaned over to Mrs. Food. “I’ve heard that animals are very sensitive to THE OTHER SIDE.”

Mrs. Food took a deep breath.“Sure. Take the animals. Why not?” She had not expected her day to go quite this way, but she might as well go all in.

Then she hesitated.“But you’re right, maybe not the bird. Just the dog and cat.” She shot Oscar an apologetic look. He tried not to feel offended. Taking his cage along would’ve been impractical, he could see that. They didn’t realize that he was perfectly capable of flying himself.

“Madison, get Butterbean’s leash. And, I don’t know, carry Walt, I guess. We’re going up to five to check things out.”

“Ookay.” Madison squinted at Mrs. Food like she was hoping an explanation would be on Mrs. Food’s face. But there was nothing—the only sign that something was up was a slight twitch near Mrs. Food’s left eye. Madison turned and went to get Butterbean’s leash.

Butterbean did a happy little dance.“It worked!”

“So, new plan,” Walt said dryly. “Got it.”

Butterbean danced over to the edge of the sofa where Wallace was hiding.“Wallace, climb on,” she said under her breath as she danced past.

“Really?” Wallace said uncertainly. “I don’t know.…”

“You need to show us what you saw, right? I got us in on Mrs. Food’s investigation! Hurry!” Butterbean could only dance for so long.

Wallace clenched his fists.“Right. You’re right.” As Butterbean did another dance-by, he grabbed hold of the fur under her tummy and pulled himself up.

“Okay, this plan works too, I guess,” Walt said in a strangled voice as Madison scooped her up by the middle.

“No fair!” Marco squealed.

“I can’t believe we have to stay behind!” Polo grumbled as she watched them gather by the door.

“Yes, so unfair,” Oscar said, eyeing the remote.

“Hold on tight, Wallace! Butterbean has slippery hair!” Polo yelled as they left.

“Go get ’em, guys! Good luck, Walt!” Marco shouted.

Walt could only nod as she was carried out. No matter what they found upstairs, she knew one thing. There were some things worse than ghosts.

— 3 —

THE DOOR TO APARTMENT 5B looked like any other door in the Strathmore Building, except that it had been recently painted.

“It doesn’t look haunted,” Butterbean said, examining it. She sniffed it tentatively, but the paint fumes were too strong for her to get a sense of what was inside. Besides, she didn’t know what ghosts smelled like.

“Anything, Bean?” Walt asked, dangling from Madison’s arms. She would’ve preferred to ride on her shoulders, but apparently it wasn’t her decision.

“Nothing. Just paint. And I don’t hear any scary noises, either.”

“Interesting.” From what Wallace had said, Walt had been expecting rattling chains and horrible wails.

Mrs. Food turned to Mrs. Third Floor, who was still hanging back by the elevator.“Mildred?”

Mrs. Third Floor nodded and walked slowly over to the door, like she was afraid it was going to jump out and bite her. Then she carefully leaned down and unlocked it.

“There! Done.” She clenched her hands tightly in front of her. “And I know what you’re thinking—I changed the locks after the last tenant moved out. All the keys are accounted for.”

“That’s not what I was thinking,” Butterbean whispered to Wallace.

“That was going to be my first question,” Mrs. Food said. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Mrs. Third Floor said.

“Ready,” Madison said.

“Ready,” Wallace said, clinging tightly to Butterbean’s tummy hair.

Mrs. Food opened the door.

The door to Apartment 5B creaked ominously as it swung open.

Mrs. Third Floor winced.“I’ll have to get maintenance to fix that,” she said nervously. With a quick glance at Mrs. Food, she stepped into the apartment. She’d barely set foot inside before she gasped and jumped back into Madison.

“Whoa!” Madison stumbled back to get out of her way. “You okay?”

Mrs. Third Floor pointed a quivering finger in the direction of the living room.

“There!” she wailed. “Don’t you see? The ghost!”

Butterbean scrambled to get inside. Walt turned her bones to jelly and slid down onto the floor, escaping Madison’s grip. Then she peered around Mrs. Third Floor’s legs to get a better look. But unless the ghost was covered with floral upholstery, he wasn’t making himself obvious.

The apartment was a lot like Mrs. Food’s apartment, but with much newer and fancier furniture. It looked like something out of a catalog, or a furniture commercial on the Television. It didn’t look like someplace a ghost would hang out. It totally looked like someplace Wallace would hang out, though.

Mrs. Food cleared her throat as she looked around.“Um, where is the ghost, exactly?”