When ghosts make themselves larger
What ghosts do so humans can see them
Where ghosts live
When ghosts travel through walls, doors, and other solid objects
When ghosts make themselves smaller
When ghosts feel sick to their stomachs
What ghosts call humans, animals, and objects they can’t see through
What comes out when ghosts throw up
When ghosts move freely through the air
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.