The Case of the Haunted Haunted House (5 page)

Milo had almost forgotten about the bet. “But he's your brother. Would he really sink that low?”

“I hope not. But he
hates
to lose a bet. One time he rolled in poison ivy just to win a bet with his best friend about who'd get it worse.”

“Gross,” said Milo.

Jazz went back to her list and added:
Chris—wants to win the bet.

Milo thought about what Dash had said.
Think like your suspects. Put yourself in their shoes.

But which shoes? Chris's football cleats? Gordy's untied sneakers? Or Brooke's super-stylish boots?

All three suspects had strong motives. Any one of them could be the ghost.

Or the ghost could be . . . a ghost.

He quickly pushed that thought aside. Okay. What would Dash do?

“Question the suspects,” Milo said aloud.

Jazz nodded. “Let's talk to Chris.”

They found him by the front door, getting ready to go out.

“Chris, wait,” Jazz said. “We want to ask you something. It's about the bet.”

Her brother grinned. “Don't waste your breath. That bet was fair and square. You're not weaseling out now.”

Milo stared at Chris. Did he look nervous? Was he hiding anything?

Jazz put her hands on her hips. “I'm not weaseling. Haven't you heard about our haunted house?”

“So what? You haven't got a chance. Those desserts are mine.
Mmm. . . .”

Rubbing his stomach, Chris left.

Jazz was fuming. “What does he mean, we haven't got a chance?”

“Maybe he means he's going to make sure we lose,” Milo said. “Maybe he really is the one haunting the learning cottage. Where's he going, anyway?”

They looked at each other. Then they ran to the door.

It was getting dark, but they could see by the glow of the streetlights. Chris was starting down the block already, walking fast. They hurried after him.

Chris turned the corner.

Milo whispered, “Look! He's heading toward the school!”

They followed, keeping as far behind as they could without losing sight of her brother. Chris glanced back once, but didn't seem to see them.

As they drew closer to the school, Milo's mind was a whirl. Had they solved the case? Was Chris the ghost?

But Chris walked right past the school. He went up to a house and rang the bell. The door opened, and he went in.

So much for that.

Milo sighed. “Oh, well. Let's go.”

Jazz didn't move. She was staring at the house. “Milo, that's Cody's house.”

“Yeah, so? You said they're on a football team together, right?”

“Exactly!” Jazz said. “Don't you see? Chris wanted to get our haunted house shut down. But he knew I'd find out if he spread the ghost rumors himself. So Chris got Cody to pretend he saw a ghost.”

“You mean . . . Cody didn't really see a spooky light?” Milo said slowly.

“Of course not. Aren't you listening? They made it up.”

Milo pointed at the learning cottage. “Then what's
that?”

Milo and Jazz stared at the light bobbing in the window of the learning cottage.

“This is great!” Jazz said.

Milo's stomach fluttered. “It is?”

“Let's go!” She dashed off, then turned back. “Are you coming, or what?”

“Um . . . what?” he mumbled.

Hands on hips, Jazz stared at him. “Don't you want to catch the ghost?”

Slowly he followed her. Sure, they wanted to catch the ghost. But what if the ghost caught them first?

They headed toward the flickering light, Jazz in the lead. Almost there—

OOMPH!

Something heavy slammed into Milo, knocking him down and pinning him to the ground. A bright light shone straight into his face.

“Gotcha!” a boy's voice said.

“Chris?” said Jazz.

The light swung away, and the weight lifted off Milo. He pushed up to his feet.

“See, I told you, Cody,” Chris said. “There's no ghost. It's just my sister faking ghost stuff to get kids all stoked about her lame-o haunted house.”

“ME?” Jazz yelled. “You're the one trying to get us shut down so you can win the bet!”

As they both started shouting at once, Milo looked toward the learning cottage. The light was gone.

Milo shivered. Was it a real ghost, or just a person? Either way, their noise seemed to have scared it off. Milo wasn't sure if he was disappointed or relieved.

Jazz and Chris argued the whole way home. Chris said he'd caught them red-handed, and threatened to tell the principal. Jazz said
they
had caught
him
red-handed, and threatened to tell their parents.

“When we saw the light inside the learning cottage, we were all outside,” Milo pointed out. “How could any of us be the ghost?”

Chris didn't look convinced. “Maybe you got a friend to go in there.”

Jazz crossed her arms. “Or
you
did.”

This wasn't getting them anywhere. Milo wondered how Dash Marlowe would deal with a pair of squabbling siblings.

“What about our other suspects?” he asked Jazz.

Her eyes widened. “Brooke and Gordy! We haven't even questioned them yet.”

Chris agreed to call a truce—for now. But he said they'd better find the real ghost soon. If they couldn't . . .

“Then your haunted house is history.” Chris smirked.

The next morning, they went straight to work. They found Brooke on the swings, flanked by the Emilies.

“We want to talk to you,” Jazz said.

“Oh, yeah?” Brooke crossed her arms.

Milo tried to remember what Dash had said about crossed arms. Wasn't that one of the signs that a suspect was nervous?

“Have you heard about the learning cottage ghost?” Jazz asked.

“Sure. All the kids are talking about it.” Brooke swallowed. Another sign!

Jazz went on. “We don't believe it's a real ghost. We think someone has been sneaking in there after dark.”

Brooke swallowed again.
Wow,
Milo thought. She must be nervous, all right—though he never would have guessed it from the snooty look on her face.

Emily S. seemed nervous, too, the way she was tapping her feet in the dirt. But then again, she always did that.

Jazz stared Brooke straight in the eyes. “Well? Was it you? Are you the learning cottage ghost?”

Brooke's fingers moved to her mouth. Another sign!

The fingers came out holding a big chewed-up wad of gum. Daintily, Brooke placed it in a foil wrapper.

Gum! Milo gave himself a mental smack in the head. No wonder she kept swallowing.

Brooke said, “Why in the world would I pretend to be a ghost?”

“You didn't want the haunted house,” Milo said. “Maybe you're trying to ruin it. If Ms. Ali finds out that all the little kids are scared—
Ow!”
He stared at Jazz, who had just jabbed him in the ribs.

Brooke smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. “If Ms. Ali finds out, then goodbye, haunted house. Right?” She laughed. “Better hope nobody tells her.”

Brooke marched off, with the Emilies trailing behind her.

Jazz glared at Milo. “I can't believe you said that! Now Brooke's going to run straight to Ms. Ali.”