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Walt shot him an icy look.“I made the call. It’s done. We’re all set.” Oscar had to admit, Walt was very good on the phone. She had a computer program that she could use to simulate a human voice. Oscar could speak Human too, but in sticky situations, the computer voice was more effective. (It was good enough to fool Butterbean.)

“I just hope this all works,” Oscar said, smoothing his feathers back down. They’d hardly had a chance to think through all the details of the plot, much less troubleshoot them.

“It will,” Walt said. She patted him carefully on the back.

“How do you know?” Oscar asked.

“Because it has to.”

Oscar nodded. That made a certain kind of sense. He turned back to the vent just in time to see Wallace come streaking out.

“I did it!” Wallace shouted as he ran up.

“Mission complete?” he asked.

“Yes, complete!” Wallace squeaked, leaning on the side of Oscar’s cage to catch his breath. “I mean, not complete YET, since we haven’t done it. But I told him. I mean, them. I mean, I told Jerome and Chad what they need to do.”

Oscar nodded.“And they agreed?”

“Oh yeah,” Wallace said. “Especially once I told Jerome about that cartoon octopus on the News. Boy, was he mad.”

“Good,” Oscar said thoughtfully. A mad Jerome would be a motivated Jerome. And that’s what they needed right now.

The doorbell rang. Oscar felt a rush of adrenaline. This was it.

“Okay, everybody. Places!” he said, hopping up into his cage and holding the door closed with his foot. Mrs. Food didn’t need to know he could come and go as he pleased.

Mrs. Food hurried into the living room and opened the door. But it wasn’t the ghost men. It was Mrs. Third Floor.

“False alarm,” Oscar said, letting his door swing open a little.

“Shoot!” Butterbean barked. “Let’s get this show on the road!” Butterbean’s role in the plan was “stare at a fixed point in space and whine” and “backup as needed” and she was ready to get started. She was great at backing up.

Mrs. Third Floor’s eyes were red, and her face was blotchy. “Well, let’s get this show on the road,” she said weakly.

Butterbean’s eyes widened. “That’s what I said!”

“Come inside, Mildred. I’m sure they’ll be here soon,” Mrs. Food said. “But are you sure you want to go through with this? You can still call it off, and honestly, I think you should.”

Mrs. Third Floor didn’t say anything. She just shook her head.

Mrs. Food patted her tentatively on the shoulder.“If you’re still convinced it’s a ghost, we can get some of that stuff that you burn. What is that stuff…”

“Sage,” Madison said, coming into the living room. “It’s sage that you burn. I saw it on TV.”

“Madison!” Mrs. Third Floor smiled weakly in surprise. “You’re skipping school for me? What a thoughtful gesture.”

“Um.” Madison shot a look at Mrs. Food. “Teacher workday, actually. But I totally would’ve skipped.”

Mrs. Third Floor nodded distractedly and patted Madison on the arm.“That’s nice.”

“We can get that sage stuff to purify the apartment,” Madison went on. “And we can call a priest if you want. We don’t need those guys to get rid of a ghost.”

“That’s a wonderful idea!” Mrs. Food nodded encouragingly. “A priest! Doesn’t that sound good?”

“I could go for sage,” Wallace said thoughtfully. “It can’t smell that terrible, right?”

Butterbean shrugged. She didn’t know which smell was sage.

“And it’ll be cheaper,” Madison said.

Mrs. Third Floor shook her head again.“You know that won’t work.” Her voice was flat. “You heard the ghost men. They’re the only ones who can get rid of the ghost. I don’t have a choice.”

“But, Mildred, how are you going to pay for this?” Mrs. Food said gently. “It’s too expensive.”

“I thought about that. I’m going to…” Mrs. Third Floor swallowed hard. “I’m going to have to put my apartment on the market. I’ll have to sell. It’s the only way.”

“But you said no one will buy a haunted apartment,” Madison said.

Mrs. Third Floor shot her a tight smile.“I know that. They won’t. That’s why I’m going to sell my apartment on three.”

Mrs. Food gasped.“But that’s where you live!”

“I talked to my sister in St. Louis, and I can move in with her.” Mrs. Third Floor gave a chokey sob. “I’ll miss you both. But I don’t have a choice. I’ll use the money from my apartment on three to pay the ghost men, and once the ghost is gone, I’ll sell the haunted one too.”

“But, Mildred!” Mrs. Food looked shocked.

“But then she won’t be Mrs. Third Floor!” Butterbean yelped.

“Mrs. St. Louis doesn’t sound right at all!” Polo said from under a pile of cedar chips.

Marco poked his nose out too.“Mrs. St. Louis sounds bad,” he agreed. “She can’t move out!”

“Maybe you could just move to five? To the haunted rental?” Madison said, looking between Mrs. Third Floor and Mrs. Food and then back again. Mrs. Food had gone very pale. “Since it won’t be haunted then, right?”

“I’m okay with that,” Wallace said sadly. He hated to lose his apartment, but it would be even worse for Mrs. Food to lose her friend. He could probably find a different apartment. Plus, it hadn’t been the same since Jerome moved in.