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“Um. Yes?” A tiny voice came from inside the apartment.

“Ask if it’s a ghost,” Marco whispered, peeking through Walt’s fur.

Butterbean took a deep breath.“Are you a ghost?”

“Who is this?” the voice asked. It didn’t sound very ghostly. It didn’t sound anything like Polo’s impression from before.

“Butterbean,” Butterbean answered.

There was no answer.

But then, just as Butterbean was giving up, the handle jiggled a few times, and the door swung open.

In the doorway stood a small white cat.“Can I help you?”

Butterbean shifted uncomfortably.“Are you a ghost?” She hadn’t heard of ghosts answering doors, but she had to be sure.

“Do I look like a ghost?” The white cat looked irritated.

“Um…” Butterbean hesitated. The white cat sighed and then posed in a variety of prancey poses, like she was on a fashion runway.

Butterbean considered.“Kind of?”

“EXCUSE ME?” The white cat looked offended.

Walt narrowed her eyes and stalked forward.

“NOOOOO!” Marco, Polo, and Wallace shrieked simultaneously, jumping off Walt’s back and huddling around Oscar’s feet.

Walt ignored them. She walked up to the white cat and poked it in the head with her paw.

“Ow!” The white cat reeled back a few steps.

“Solid,” Walt said to Oscar. “Not a ghost.” She turned back to the cat. “Okay, cat. What’s with the noise?”

The little cat suddenly looked guilty.“Did my vocal exercises disturb you?”

“Vocal exercises?” Walt bristled. “VOCAL EXERCISES?”

The cat looked sulky.“Well, when my owners are away, I have to amuse myself, don’t I?”

“But who are you?” Butterbean yelped. “The Potpourri Couple doesn’t have a cat!”

The cat’s fur puffed out a little. “They do now. I’M NEW. And you need to keep it down too. I could hear you talking all the way in my apartment.” The cat turned, tail held high, and marched back inside, slamming the door with a kick of her foot.

“Well, there’s your ghost, Wallace,” Walt sniffed. “That explains the noises.”

Wallace peeked out between Oscar’s legs. “It doesn’t explain the salt shaker.”

Polo nodded.“Or the bathroom.”

“Or the cupcakes,” Marco added.

“THAT WAS ME, OKAY?” Wallace said. “I’M SORRY.”

Walt frowned.“That’s true. Maybe we should still check the place out?”

Oscar sighed. He could be in his cage right now, dreaming about the News. But the camera would be installed in the morning.“Yes. Our stakeout will continue.”

“Sleepover,” Polo said in a small voice.

“Stakeout, sleepover, whichever,” Marco said, shooting a nervous look back at the cat’s apartment. “Let’s just get inside.”

Butterbean stood up and pushed on the handle to Apartment 5B. The door swung open.

The animals peeked inside. Ominous shadows filled the room.“Or maybe we could just set up the sleeping bags in the hallway,” Marco said, looking around anxiously.

The overstuffed floral furniture and knickknacks that had seemed homey during the day loomed menacingly in the moonlight, with dark shadows that didn’t seem to be quite the right shapes, somehow.

Walt shuddered. Suddenly a sleepover seemed like the worst idea she’d ever had. And she’d had some bad ones.

Oscar clicked his beak.“Well, let’s get this over with.” He tried to get his bearings. He’d never loved flying at night, and that was even without ghosts to deal with. “I’ll inspect the perimeter. Once we’ve established a secure zone, we can start the stakeout.”

“Sleepover,” Polo said in a tiny voice. “And about that. One quick question. Do sleepovers have lights?”

Oscar frowned.“I don’t think so.” He hadn’t seen many sleepovers on the Television, so he wouldn’t consider himself an expert. But since sleep was involved, it would stand to reason that the lights would be out.

“Okay,” Polo said thoughtfully.

Silence descended on the room once again.

Polo cleared her throat hesitantly.“So another question. What about stakeouts? Do they have lights?”

Oscar fluffed his feathers. He’d definitely seen more stakeouts on the Television. He was back on secure ground. “I don’t know if I’d say they have lights, per se—” Oscar started.

“Can we please turn on the lights?” Marco interrupted him. “This place is freaking me out!” He could swear that a shadow in the kitchen had just moved. And he didn’t even want to know what that thing over by the sofa was.

“Yes, lights!” Polo squealed.

“Maybe lights will help us see the ghosts better,” Butterbean added helpfully. If they were going to be taking sides, she was going to be on Team Lights. She hadn’t wanted to say anything, but she’d spotted someone large and silent hovering just a few feet away. If she was right, this was going to be the shortest ghost hunt ever in the history of ghost hunts, because she’d totally found one.

Oscar sighed.“I don’t think the ghost would mind lights, do you, Walt?”

Walt shook her head.“That should be fine.” Walt tried to sound casual, but it wasn’t easy. She was just glad the rats had been the ones to ask. The last thing she wanted to do was to play into the whole “scaredy-cat” stereotype.

Oscar flew over to the table by the door and switched on the light. It wasn’t much, but it helped.