9e945bf3b1d705d5d70aa6e5ed9fa2ba

“Better!” Mrs. Third Floor burst out excitedly, waving a piece of paper in the air. It looked like it had been torn off of a yellow notepad. “I called the ghost men!”

“Already?” Madison yelped, shooting a look at Butterbean.

Mrs. Food’s smile looked forced. “And?”

“And they’ll do it!” Mrs. Third Floor did a little dance in the doorway.

“Oh crud,” Oscar said, looking at Walt.

“Really?” Madison exchanged a worried glance with Mrs. Food. “For real?”

“For real!” Mrs. Third Floor cheered, happily clutching her paper. “I told them all about the apartment, and they were VERY interested. They’re coming tomorrow!”

“Wow, tomorrow?” Mrs. Food looked stunned. “That fast?”

“That fast. They said time was of the essence with spirits.” She looked at her watch. “Do you think there’s time to go to the bank before it closes?”

Madison twisted the leash around her hand.“The bank? Why?”

“For their deposit, silly! But don’t worry—they don’t charge the full fee unless they find something.” Mrs. Third Floor waved the paper again. “They’ll even set up an installment plan for me!”

Mrs. Food frowned. She didn’t like the sound of this. “How big a fee?”

“WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES IT MAKE? MY RENTAL IS HAUNTED!” Mrs. Third Floor screeched. Then she bent down and took some deep breaths. When she stood up again, the manic smile was back on her face.

“It’s fine,” Mrs. Third Floor laughed. “I’ll just go in the morning.”

Mrs. Food took a step forward.“Mildred. You’re under a lot of stress—”

“Just have the animals ready. I want you all to come with me.” Mrs. Third Floor squeezed Madison’s arm. “Moral support. Okay?”

“Okay,” Madison said uncertainly.

Mrs. Third Floor beamed at them and hurried out of the apartment.

“Um…” Madison looked at Mrs. Food, who marched into her office without another word. Madison looked down at Butterbean and unclipped her leash. “No point going now. We’re too late,” she said, shaking her head in disgust.

“Um. Walk?” Butterbean said as Madison disappeared down the hall. Butterbean looked up at Oscar. “Oscar? This is bad.”

“I know,” Oscar said, clicking his beak. “Walt? They’re coming tomorrow.”

Walt narrowed her eyes.“No ghost means no fee, right?” She stood up. “Then we just have to make sure they don’t find anything.” She turned to Butterbean. “Cover for me. I’m going to talk to Jerome.”

— 11 —

WALT’S TALK WITH JEROME WAS not going well.

“But you can just stay with Chad! What’s the big deal? It’s for a couple of days, tops.” Walt was so frustrated, she was spitting when she talked.

“Absolutely not,” Chad said. “No.”

Jerome snorted.“Like I’d stay someplace like THAT.”

Chad glared at him.

“But don’t you understand, there are going to be ELIMINATORS coming tomorrow.” Walt tried to be calm. “They think you’re a GHOST. They’re going to charge money.”

Jerome chuckled.“I think that’s hilarious! Think of all the fun I can have with them!” He wriggled his tentacles in anticipation.

“But money!” Wallace said softly. He’d insisted on coming along, since it was his apartment (and since he wouldn’t be missed back at Mrs. Food’s place). He didn’t think Jerome was quite getting the problem.

Walt stared at Jerome for a long minute, considering. It was time for a new approach.“Think of all the terrible publicity when you get caught,” Walt said finally. “So humiliating.” She shook her head.

“You’d be in the tabloid papers,” Wallace said, taking his cue from Walt. “But in a BAD way.”

“Do you really want to get caught by those guys?” Walt added. “They’re much lower level celebrities than you are.”

Jerome drummed his tentacles on the countertop.“Hmm. True.” Then he brightened. “But that’s assuming I’ll get caught, which I obviously won’t. You saw how I handled the police!” He chuckled again. “Did you see how that one man ran away! And that woman screamed when I opened her purse!”

“That was Mrs. Third Floor!” Wallace squeaked. “Our LANDLADY.”

Walt gritted her teeth.“Okay, that? That’s exactly what you CAN’T do.” She took a deep breath. “Look, stay here all you want, okay? I don’t care what you do. But just take a break for a little while. Trust me.”

Wallace opened his mouth to object, but Walt silenced him with a glance.

Walt got up and stalked over to Jerome.“When those ghost guys are here, you have to be quiet. Because don’t you see? If you do ANYTHING to make them think there’s a ghost here, they’ll keep coming back. Again and again and again. You won’t get a minute’s peace. It’ll be worse than the paparazzi.”

Jerome shuddered. Chad rolled his eyes and examined a sardine tin on the counter near Jerome. It was empty.

“And don’t forget the money!” Wallace piped up. “It sounds like they’re going to charge Mrs. Third Floor a LOT.” He felt like that was a really important part.

Jerome waved his tentacle dismissively.“I don’t care about that,” he said. “But I do want my peace and quiet. That’s the whole point of being here!”

“Exactly!” Walt said. “So will you keep quiet? No tricks?”

“But that’s so boring!” Jerome whined.