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Walt glared at him.“Too bad! We already did our part!” She sat down, curling her tail around her feet. “We can’t get involved. Look, once the police get there, they’ll realize it’s not a ghost and—URK!” Walt made a retching sound as she suddenly flew upward.

Mrs. Third Floor was standing over them, clutching Walt by the middle.

Butterbean reeled back a step in shock. She’d never imagined noises like that could come out of a midsized cat.

“I need this cat!” Mrs. Third Floor wailed, hugging a dangling Walt in her arms. “This cat will keep the spirits at bay. It’s the only thing that can protect me!”

“You okay, Walt?” Marco whispered. Mrs. Third Floor had come out of nowhere.

“Blurg,” Walt gurgled, struggling to get a foothold somewhere on Mrs. Third Floor’s front. Eventually she gave up.

“Meeting adjourned,” Oscar said, keeping an eye on Walt. He puffed out his feathers. If Mrs. Third Floor did anything to hurt her, Oscar was prepared to take a page from Walt’s book and “go for the eyes,” so to speak.

“So, should we go, then?” Polo whispered to Oscar. “Warn them?” It seemed like the perfect opportunity, since Walt was otherwise occupied.

“Hurry,” Oscar said. He just hoped they were doing the right thing.

“The police?” Jerome scoffed when the rats gave him the news. He was sitting in the middle of the living room, eating pizza straight from the box. “OOOOOOH I’m SOO SCARED.” He waggled his tentacles in the air when he said it. It was kind of rude.

“Well, you should be scared!” Wallace said, grumpily kicking a stray pizza crust out of his path. Celebrity or not, Jerome had made a real mess of the place. It didn’t even feel like Wallace’s apartment anymore.

“Look, we didn’t have to warn you!” Polo squeaked angrily. “They know about the pizza, okay? They saw you! They’ll be here any minute.”

“Mrs. Third Floor is pretty upset,” Wallace said seriously.

“What else is new?” Chad said, his mouth full of pizza. He was sitting in a sink full of water in the kitchen, glowering at them in between bites.

Jerome waved a tentacle airily.“There’s nothing to worry about,” he said. “I made sure I was camouflaged. There’s no way they saw me.”

“That’s the problem!” Polo stomped her foot. “You looked like a ghost!”

“We saw it. It looked like the pizza floated into the apartment,” Wallace said, surreptitiously licking a bit of cheese on the side of the box.

“They have a video,” Marco said, gnawing on a piece of crust. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle—he’d just torn the closest piece off. “It was pretty scary.”

“Marco!” Polo said, pointing an accusing finger at Marco’s piece of crust. “You too?” He froze mid-chew. “Give me that,” she said, tugging at a piece of cheese and taking an angry bite. Then she turned back to the octopuses. “Now, move it, Wiggles!”

“Fine,” Jerome said, stretching his tentacles out like he was just waking up. “I was full anyway.” He started toward the kitchen, snapping his tentacle in Chad’s direction. “Chad, take care of this mess. These rodents don’t want us to have any fun at all.”

Chad flung his pizza at Jerome, hitting him in the head. Jerome stopped short, folding his tentacles in front of him.“Really, Chad? Really? Throwing things? How mature.”

Wallace looked from Chad to Jerome and then back again.“Did we come at a bad time?”

Jerome glared at Chad.“Fine, leave the box. I don’t care. They know about the pizza anyway.”

The elevator in the hallway dinged.

“Oh look, here comes the fuzz.” He laughed. “As if they’d arrest someone of my standing. The papers would never let them live it down.”

He moved across the floor, camouflaging himself as he went. He’d only gone a few feet before the rats couldn’t even tell where he was.

“I’ll never get over how creepy that is,” Polo muttered as Jerome disappeared.

They heard voices in the hallway and a key being inserted into the lock.

Wallace grabbed one last piece of cheese and took off toward the couch.

“Polo, run!” Marco pushed Polo in the direction of the vent. “Chad, Jerome, hide!” He shot a look into the kitchen in time to see Chad sliding into a canister on the countertop.

The door to the apartment swung open as the rats made it to the vent behind the couch. They were safe. Marco just hoped Chad and Jerome would be too.

“Yep, that’s pizza all right.”

Officer Marlowe poked the box with her foot, like she expected it to get up and scurry away. It didn’t.

Mrs. Third Floor and Mrs. Food stood a few feet away with Madison and Butterbean, watching carefully. They looked like they might make a break for the door at any moment.

Officer Travis glanced at the pizza in disgust.“And you say it just ‘floated into the apartment,’ ” he said, waggling his fingers in a spooky way.

“You saw the video, Officer.” Mrs. Third Floor’s voice was frosty. “I didn’t make it up.” She hiked Walt up a little higher in her arms. Walt didn’t even have the heart to meow about it.