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“I’m HOME!” Madison yelled as she threw her book bag into the apartment and kicked it across the floor.

“What?” Mrs. Food’s surprised voice came from the office.

“WHAT?” Butterbean yelped. She’d been dozing in the hallway, planning to cut Mrs. Food off at the pass at any sign of movement.

“WHAT?” Walt said, accidentally falling off the coffee table.

Madison wasn’t supposed to be home for hours.

This was a disaster.

Walt stood up and shook herself off. Maybe things weren’t that bad. Maybe it wasn’t obvious that Oscar wasn’t in his cage. Maybe no one would notice.

She looked back at Oscar’s cage. The door was standing wide open, and it was perfectly obvious that a semi-large black bird wasn’t sitting anywhere inside. Nope, definitely a disaster.

Mrs. Food opened her door and hurried down the hallway.“Madison? Why are you home so early?”

Madison kicked her book bag into its spot in the corner as she took off her jacket.“I told them I was sick and took the bus home.” Mrs. Food looked shocked. “WHAT? I couldn’t just SIT THERE with Bob thinking I’m some kind of criminal. I need to defend myself! I need to clear my name. I thought I’d go downstairs and do some investigating. Come on, Butterbean. Want to come?”

Butterbean wagged her tail. She absolutely wanted to come. Especially if it would get Madison out of the house again.

Mrs. Food took Madison by the shoulders and steered her away from the front door.“That storage unit is the one place you are absolutely not going. You will stay as far away from there as possible until this is all cleared up. I’m working on it, but you need to leave this to me.”

“But they think I’m a criminal!” Madison said.

“And we know you’re not. And we’ll prove it,” Mrs. Food said, sitting Madison down on the couch.

“What do we do?” Butterbean moaned. She was standing in the middle of the living room, swaying back and forth. She didn’t know if she should run, bark, or try to get outside. All of her distraction ideas were ruined.

“I don’t know!” Walt said, hovering at the edge of the couch. “They haven’t looked at the cage. Maybe they won’t? I’m sitting on one of them—I don’t care which one.”

“Now, you’re supposed to be sick? So be sick. Spend the afternoon watching bad TV. I’ll make you some soup. Things will look better soon,” Mrs. Food said, patting Madison on the shoulder and heading to the kitchen.

She didn’t look at Oscar’s cage.

“Madison it is,” Walt said, pouncing onto Madison’s lap and kneading Madison’s stomach before settling down for a long nap. “She won’t move for hours.”

Madison rubbed Walt on the head.“I didn’t even say goodbye to you this morning,” she said softly. “So I’ll say hello now. Hello, cat!”

Walt purred in satisfaction. Madison wasn’t going anywhere, not for a long time.

“Hello, Butterbean!” Madison called over to Butterbean, who was drooling uncontrollably. Anxiety made her spitty.

“Hi, rats,” Madison called over to the aquarium.

“Oh no,” Butterbean said. The rats weren’t there. THE RATS WEREN’T THERE. She looked over at the rat cage. Marco and Polo had piled their cedar chips in one corner of the cage, so it looked kind of like they were sleeping. But only kind of.

Wallace peeked out from behind the couch.“Hey, guys! What’s—”

“WALLACE!” Butterbean yelped. “Quick—GET IN THE RAT CAGE!”

“GO!” Walt said, leaning up and aggressively licking Madison’s face. “She’s not looking!”

Wallace didn’t hesitate. He raced for the rat cage, climbed up the table leg, and leaped into the cage in record time. “I’m here!” he called, doing his best to look like two rats.

Butterbean sighed in relief. Disaster averted.

Walt stopped licking and curled back up, making herself as heavy as possible. Madison scratched Walt’s neck again and then craned her neck around to look at Oscar.

“Hello, Oscar!” Madison called. Then she frowned. “Oscar?”

“Oh no,” Walt said, twisting around and batting wildly at Madison’s hair. Madison didn’t pay any attention.

“WALT!” Butterbean barked. She started spinning in circles for a distraction, but Madison didn’t even look at her.

Walt bumped Madison’s chin with her head, but it was too little too late.

Madison sat up straight.“Oscar? OH NO!” She stood up, dumping Walt in a heap on the floor. “Mrs. Fudeker? Oscar’s GONE!”

“So he’s been doing this all day?” Polo said, pressing her face up to the grate. She was watching Bob clean up the storage area. He had the door to the basement elevator area propped open and was sweeping up what looked like confetti.

“Yup,” Dunkin said, leaning against the wall. “There’s a lady that comes in every so often and yells at him. I think a lot of it’s her stuff.”

“The raccoons did all this?” Marco couldn’t help but be impressed. They’d done some serious work in a short amount of time.

“Yeah, but don’t forget, Madison’s the one who’s taking the blame.” Polo’s eyes narrowed. “As if Madison would go through people’s storage units and throw their stuff around. Besides, she’s just one kid! This took some time!”