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“You guys,” Wallace groaned. “Stop it. There really is a ghost.”

“And you, little girl. You don’t know anything about these?” Officer Travis said, waving the licked cupcake in Madison’s direction. “Pretty tempting, aren’t they?”

“I guess?” Madison looked confused. “They were licked when I got here, though, so not really?” She didn’t know anyone who thought licked cupcakes were tempting. Except maybe Officer Travis.

“Right.” Officer Travis narrowed his eyes at her and put the cupcake down.

Officer Marlowe ran her finger along the countertop and examined it.“And this countertop. Is this… granite?”

“What? Yes,” Mrs. Third Floor. “Do you think that has something to do with it?”

“It’s possible,” Officer Marlowe said.

“But probably not,” Officer Travis said, frowning at Officer Marlowe. “What we need to do is evaluate the scene. Now, the bedroom is through that door?”

Mrs. Third Floor nodded.“Right. And the bathroom was totally destroyed—it’s right through there. There’s water everywhere.”

Officer Marlowe made a note.“I’ll take a look.” Then she hesitated. “Is that the only bathroom?”

“Yes, it is,” Mrs. Third Floor said.

Officer Marlowe frowned.“I see.” She turned and headed down the hall.

Officer Travis clapped his hands together loudly. They all jumped. Wallace almost lost his grip on Butterbean completely.“Ladies,” he said in a booming voice. “Please take the kids and livestock and remain in the living room area for the duration of our search.” He glared down at Mrs. Food. “We don’t want them destroying evidence, got it?”

“Got it,” Mrs. Food said. She turned to Madison. “Okay, KIDS. You heard him.”

“How many people does he think I am?” Madison whispered, sitting down on the couch. “Sheesh!”

“LIVESTOCK?” Butterbean huffed. “I’ve never been so offended.”

“That makes two of us. If he wasn’t wearing a uniform, I’d go for the jugular.” Walt jumped up onto the couch and settled in a pounce stance.

“That makes three of us,” Wallace said. “And I don’t even think he knows about me.”

“Maybe he thinks you’re one of the kids,” Butterbean said.

“Hush, dog,” Madison said, rubbing Butterbean’s ear. “This is important. Do you sense any ghosts?”

Butterbean thumped her tail. She figured Madison could interpret that anyway she wanted to.

“I didn’t think so,” Madison said, her eyes narrowed.

Butterbean made a mental note that thumping meant no.

“If I’m right, the animals are protecting us from the forces of evil,” Mrs. Third Floor said, wringing her hands nervously.

“Sure,” Madison said, shooting a look at Mrs. Food.

Mrs. Food clamped her lips together tightly and stared at the ceiling.

Butterbean stood a little taller. She’d never protected anyone from the forces of evil before.

“Oh brother,” Walt sighed.

“I get why Mrs. Food called the police,” Butterbean said after a few minutes of waiting. “But how are we supposed to do any investigating if we’re sitting on the couch?”

“We’re not,” Walt said, stalking along the back of the sofa. “We need a new plan.”

“What are we going to do?” Wallace shifted.

“Leave it to me,” Walt said. “But for now, we watch. And wait.”

“So, what, we’re just supposed to WAIT until they get back?” Marco wailed from the top of the water bottle.

“Shhh! I can’t hear!” Oscar had turned the Television back on and was watching the News. He had the volume turned down low, so he’d be able to hear Mrs. Food’s key and get back to his cage in time. That was the theory, anyway.

“But anything could’ve happened! They could’ve all been eaten by GHOSTS,” Marco said.

“It’s true! We’d never know!” Polo chimed in. “We need to do something.”

“We need to stay here,” Oscar said, keeping one eye on the Television. They were just about to give tips on decorating your small space. And Oscar didn’t know anyone who had a smaller space than him. (Well, maybe the rats, but they didn’t do much in the way of decorating.) His cage could really use a few pops of color.

“Harrumph.” Marco threw himself into a pile of cedar chips.

“You said it,” Polo said. “Harrumph.”

As she spoke, a cabinet door slammed in the kitchen. The rats froze. Oscar cranked the volume on the Television another notch higher.

“Ghosts?” Marco whispered to Polo, still not daring to move.

“Maybe?” Polo whispered back. “Or maybe it’s just—”

The electric can opener started whirring.

“CHAD,” Polo finished, flopping over backward in relief.

“HI, CHAD!” Marco waved. He nudged Polo in the side. “Maybe we can do some investigating of our own!”

He scrambled out of the cage and scurried to the kitchen.“HEY, CHAD! We’ve got a very important question for you!”

“YES!” Polo hurried after him. “Very important!”

Chad the octopus was sitting in the sink eating a can of salmon. He hardly looked up when they came in.

Marco skidded to a stop and watched Chad eat. It really was something to see.“Um, Chad. So we have something really important to ask you.” Marco hesitated.

Chad kept eating.“So you said. Three times.”