The Ghost in the Attic

by Dori Hillestad Butler

  FOR BEN

  I’d like to thank my agent, Sara Crowe, and everyone at Grosset & Dunlap for all their hard work on my behalf; also my long-time critique group, Delia Howard, Jennifer Reinhardt, and Tess Weaver, for their willingness to read and comment on an entire book with very little notice; Kellye Carter Crocker for insisting I make her a promise (without that promise, this series might never have come to be); the Coralville Public Library for giving me a place to write, and the Nano Rebels for the years of friendship and camaraderie. We can always make new friends, but we can’t make new old friends.

  GROSSET & DUNLAP

  Published by the Penguin Group

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  Text copyright © 2014 by Dori Hillestad Butler. Illustrations copyright © 2014 by Aurore Damant. All rights reserved. Published by Grosset & Dunlap, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014. GROSSET & DUNLAP is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) LLC.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

  ISBN 978-0-698-18157-1

  Version_1

  Contents

  DEDICATION

  COPYRIGHT

  TITLE PAGE

  GLOSSARY

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  GHOSTLY GLOSSARY

  EXPAND

  When ghosts make themselves larger

  GLOW

  What ghosts do so humans can see them

  HAUNT

  Where ghosts live

  PASS THROUGH

  When ghosts travel through walls, doors, and other solid objects

  SHRINK

  When ghosts make themselves smaller

  SKIZZY

  When ghosts feel sick to their stomachs

  SOLIDS

  What ghosts call humans, animals, and objects they can’t see through

  SPEW

  What comes out when ghosts throw up

  SWIM

  When ghosts move freely through the air

  WAIL

  What ghosts do so humans can hear them

  “What’s the matter, Kaz?” Claire asked as she shook the dice in her hand. “You look so sad.”

  Kaz was sad. He and Claire were playing a dice game in the craft room. Claire rolled the dice for both of them. Kaz couldn’t help noticing that Claire always seemed to roll better for herself than she did for him.

  But that wasn’t why Kaz was sad. He was sad because it had been three weeks since he’d lost his haunt. And three weeks since he’d seen his mom, his dad, his brother Little John, or his dog, Cosmo.

  It had been even longer than that since he’d seen his brother Finn, or his grandparents.

  Mom and Dad always said that maybe one day Finn, Grandmom, and Grandpop would find their way back to their old haunt. But Kaz knew that would never happen now.

  Their haunt was gone. And his entire family was gone, too. The wind had carried Kaz over fields . . . houses . . . trees . . . and into Claire’s library. Kaz had no idea what had happened to the rest of his family. Or if he’d ever see them again.

  “Are you thinking about your family?” Claire asked.

  “Sort of,” Kaz admitted.

  Claire was a solid, but she wasn’t like other solids. She could see ghosts when they weren’t glowing. And she could hear ghosts when they weren’t wailing.

  Kaz was a ghost, but he wasn’t like other ghosts. He couldn’t glow. He couldn’t wail. And he didn’t like to pass through solid objects.

  “Don’t worry, Kaz,” Claire said. “We’ll find your family. That’s why we started our detective agency, remember?”

  Beckett snickered. He was the other ghost who lived at the library. Beckett spent most of his time in his secret room behind the bookcase in the craft room. But sometimes he came out to read library books.

  “What?” Claire narrowed her eyes at Beckett. “What are you laughing at?”

  “Nothing,” Beckett said, turning a page in a book. “If you want to call yourselves detectives, it isn’t any of my business. But you’ve only solved one case, and it wasn’t even a hard one.”

  “It was, too!” Claire argued.

  Kaz had to agree. He had thought he and Claire would never figure out who, or what, was haunting the library.

  “If you say so,” Beckett said. “But let me ask you this: Who’s going to hire a kid and a ghost to solve a mystery?”

  “People who have ghosts in their houses,” Claire said, like it was obvious.

  Beckett snickered again.

  “We won’t laugh at them like grown-up detectives would,” Claire said. “We’ll go to their houses and find their ghosts. And even if those ghosts don’t want to talk to me, they’ll talk to Kaz. Because he’s a ghost like they are.”

  “How is Kaz going to go anywhere?” Beckett asked. “He can’t go into the Outside. He’ll blow away.”

  Kaz hadn’t thought about that.

  But Claire shrugged like it was no big deal. “We’ll figure something out.”

  “How will those solids—” Beckett began.

  “Don’t call us solids,” Claire interrupted. Kaz knew Claire didn’t like that word.

  But that didn’t stop Beckett. “How will those solids”—he put extra emphasis on the word “solids” just to annoy Claire—“find out about your detective agency? Will you put an ad in the newspaper? Will you hang a sign on the door? What about your parents? Do they know about your detective agency?”

  Kaz doubted that. Claire’s parents thought she was too young to be a detective.

  “What would your parents say if they knew you’d started a detective agency?” Beckett asked. “Maybe I should show myself and tell them.”

  “You better not.” Claire leaped to her feet. “Why don’t you go back behind your wall and leave us alone?”

  “Claire?” called a voice behind them.

  Kaz turned to see Claire’s grandma, Grandma Karen. She was the librarian, and she lived above the library with Claire and Claire’s parents. Grandma Karen also took care of Claire when Claire’s parents were away solving mysteries.

  “Who are you talking to, dear?” Grandma Karen asked, patting the pink stripe in her hair.

  Claire’s grandma was the only person, ghost or solid, Kaz had ever seen with hair like that.

  “No one,” Claire said, biting her lip.

  Grandma Karen stepped into the room and looked around. She couldn’t see Kaz or Beckett, not even when they floated right in front of her.

  “Well, your parents would like to speak to you,” Grandma Karen said. “They’re upstairs in their office.”

  “Okay,” Claire said, reaching for her
green bag. That bag was where she kept all her detective supplies. She never went anywhere without it.

  Kaz followed Claire up the stairs. They found Claire’s dad standing in the hallway, tapping his foot. There were two suitcases on the foor beside him.

  Claire’s mom was in their office talking into a thing called a phone or a telephone. Kaz wasn’t sure which was the right word. Whatever it was, he loved watching solids talk into those things. It was so interesting that solids could talk to other solids who weren’t actually there.

  “No, I’m sorry,” Claire’s mom said into the telephone. “That’s not the kind of work we do.” She touched a button on her phone and set it down on the desk.

  “Who was that?” Claire’s dad asked.

  “Just another crazy person who thinks she has a ghost in her attic.” Claire’s mom rolled her eyes.

  Ghost? Kaz and Claire glanced at each other.

  “We don’t have time for such nonsense,” Dad said. “We’ll miss our flight.”

  Claire cleared her throat. “Grandma said you wanted to see me?”

  “Oh yes, Claire,” her mom said as she stacked some papers together on her desk. “We wanted to tell you that we have to go out of town for a few days.”

  “Again?” Claire asked.

  “I’m afraid so,” Mom said. “It’s business, honey. There’s nothing we can do about it.”

  “Help your grandma while we’re gone,” Dad said, ruffling her hair.

  “And don’t bother her with ghost talk,” Mom said. Claire’s parents didn’t believe that she could see ghosts, and they didn’t like it when she said she could. They were afraid people would think she was strange.

  They hugged her good-bye, picked up their suitcases, and left.

  As soon as they were gone, Claire went to her mom’s desk and picked up the telephone.

  “What are you doing?” Kaz asked.

  “I’m going to call the ‘crazy person’ back and see if she’ll hire us to come find her ghost.”

  Claire pushed some buttons on the phone, then held it to her ear. “Hello,” she said. “My name is Claire Kendall. You just called By the Books Detectives.” She paused. “No, they don’t handle ghosts. But C & K Ghost Detectives does.”

  Claire listened for a while, then reached for a pen and pad of paper. “Can I get your name and address?”

  Kaz watched her write: VICTORIA BEESLEY. 315 FOREST STREET.

  “Okay, Mrs. Beesley. I’ll be right there.” Claire set the phone on the desk and grinned at Kaz. “We’ve got a case! A real ghost case!”

  There was only one problem: Kaz couldn’t go with Claire. Like Beckett said, if he went into the Outside, he would blow away.

  “I have an idea,” Claire said. “You can shrink, right?”

  “Yes,” Kaz said. Shrinking was one ghost skill he had mastered. But he didn’t understand how that would help. It didn’t matter whether he expanded, shrank, or stayed his normal size. If he went into the Outside, the wind would blow him away.

  “Follow me,” Claire said.

  Kaz swam after her. When they got to the kitchen, Claire opened a cabinet and took out a tall, rounded container with green stars on it. “This is my water bottle. Can you shrink small enough to fit inside?”

  Kaz looked at it. “Sure,” he said. He used to shrink much smaller than that whenever he played Keep Away with his brothers back at their old haunt.

  “Good,” Claire said. “Because if you can ride in here, then I can take you with me anywhere.”

  “Even into the Outside?” Kaz asked.

  “Even outside.”

  “And I won’t blow away?”

  “I don’t think so,” Claire said.

  I don’t think so was not the same as No, you won’t. But Kaz was willing to give the bottle a try. He took a deep breath and shrank down . . . down . . . down . . . until he was no larger than Claire’s finger. Then he spun around three times and swam into the bottle.

  “That is so cool,” Claire said. She always said that when Kaz shrank. Shrinking wasn’t something solids could do. Not even if they tried really, really hard.

  Claire peered in at Kaz through the open top. Her eyes and nose now looked huge to Kaz. “How is it?” Claire asked. “Do you have enough room in there?”

  Kaz swam in a circle all around the bottle. He had plenty of room. And even if he didn’t, he could shrink a little smaller.

  It was kind of hard to see out through the side of the bottle, though, because there were green stars all over it.

  “It’s fine,” he said, floating between the stars.

  “Okay,” Claire said. “I’m going to put the top on the bottle now.”

  Kaz ducked as a green lid came down over the top of the bottle.

  “Can you still hear me with the top on?” Claire asked. Her voice sounded a little muffled, but Kaz could hear her.

  “Yes. Can you hear me?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Claire said. She picked up the bottle with Kaz inside and looped the strap over her shoulder. “Let’s go!”

  The bottle swung back and forth against Claire’s hip as she skipped down the stairs.

  Kaz felt both excited and a little bit nervous. He was going into the Outside! With Claire!

  “Grandma?” Claire called, her hand on the front door. “I’m going for a walk, okay?”

  Grandma Karen poked her head into the entryway. “By yourself?” she asked.

  Claire hugged the bottle with Kaz inside close to her body. “Yes,” she said.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re finally getting some fresh air,” Grandma Karen said. “Maybe you’ll even find a new friend?”

  “Maybe,” Claire said.

  “Please be home by four o’clock,” Grandma Karen said.

  Claire opened the door and stepped into the Outside.

  Brightness! That was the first thing Kaz noticed about the Outside. Everything was so bright.

  But he felt reasonably safe traveling inside Claire’s bottle. He was even starting to enjoy the Outside a little bit. It was so full of color.

  As Claire walked, Kaz saw gray sidewalk and green grass below him . . . blue sky with white fluffy clouds above him . . . trees with bright green leaves and dark red leaves to his right . . . flowers in every color of the rainbow to his left.

  He heard birds chirping . . . insects buzzing . . . wind rustling through the leaves . . . and in the distance he heard a familiar “Woof! Woof!”

  Kaz turned toward the sound. It almost sounded like his dog, Cosmo. But it couldn’t be.

  Could it?

  Kaz peered between two green stars. He didn’t see any dogs, ghost or solid.

  “How long will it take to get where we’re going?” Kaz asked.

  “Not long,” Claire said as she turned a corner. This was a busier street than the last one they’d been on. Cars and trucks whizzed past. Kaz had never been so close to cars and trucks before.

  “Woof! Woof!”

  Kaz whirled around. This time he caught a glimpse of a white tail before it disappeared into a bush. A white ghost tail that looked exactly like Cosmo’s.

  “Cosmo?” Kaz cried, swimming all around the bottle in search of a better view. “Cosmo? Is that you?”

  “Who’s Cosmo?” Claire asked. She held her water bottle up so she and Kaz were at eye level. “Is that your dog? Do you see him somewhere?”

  “I don’t know,” Kaz said. “I heard him first. At least I think I did. Then I thought I saw him go into that bush over there.” He pointed.

  “Let’s go see.” Claire skipped over to the bush.

  She set the bottle and her detective bag on the grass, then got down on her hands and knees and peered under the bush. Kaz tried to look, too, but he couldn’t see through Claire’s solid body.

 
“I don’t see anything,” Claire said. She stood up and walked all around the bush.

  But no ghost dogs or solid dogs appeared.

  “Maybe it was my imagination,” Kaz said glumly.

  “Well, the good news is that we’re on Forest Street,” Claire said, pointing up at a sign. “And look: There’s 315, right across the street.”

  Claire grabbed the bottle and her bag and hurried across the street.

  “When we get inside, I’ll let you out of the bottle,” Claire told Kaz. “While I’m talking to the lady who lives here, you fly around her house and see if you can find the ghost.”

  “Okay,” Kaz said, even though ghosts don’t really fly. They swim.

  He could hardly wait to find out who was haunting this house. Was it his mom? His dad? Little John? Finn? His grandparents? Or a ghost who wasn’t even in his family?

  “I wouldn’t knock on that door if I were you,” called a voice from next door.

  Kaz and Claire looked over and saw a redheaded boy about their age. He held an orange ball in the crook of his arm and watched Claire curiously. Kaz was pretty sure the boy couldn’t see him.

  Claire walked over to the edge of the porch. “Why not?” she asked, leaning on the railing.

  “Because the lady who lives in that house is weird,” the boy said. “She’s been telling the whole neighborhood that her house is haunted.”

  “I’m not afraid of weird people or haunted houses,” Claire said.

  The boy shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said. He turned and bounced his ball on the driveway.

  Claire went over to the door and knocked crisply three times.

  A lady around Grandma Karen’s age came to the door. She wore a purple housedress and a yellow band with a flower in her hair. “Yes?” she said, peering down at Claire.

  “Hello,” Claire said cheerfully. “Are you Mrs. Beesley? I’m Claire Kendall. I’m here to find your ghost.”

  Mrs. Beesley tilted her glasses to get a better look at Claire. “You’re the detective?”