Page 52 of Ghost in the Night

Maverick nods without looking up. “A good amount of them.”

“I was hoping to find this guide I had a few days ago. His name is Asher.”

He laughs. “Asher? You mean that little Orbs and Moregroup? Ha! I have pants older than that guy.”

“So you know him?” I ask, feeling hopeful. Maybe he has a way to get in contact with him.

“Well, we all KNOW Asher,” Maverick says in a dramatic voice. “He’s a fake, a phony! He doesn’t know anything about real paranormal expertise. He’s more like an actor. He makes up stories as he goes along. And he’s just focused on getting some TV show made.”

“Oh yeah, he mentioned something about that,” I say, remembering.

Maverick looks at the equipment, then back at me. “Is that what you want this equipment for? For some house he told you about? I wouldn’t waste your time or your money.”

“No! This place is really haunted.”

He raises one eyebrow. “How do you know?”

“I just … do.”

He stands. “Tell me all about it.”

My stomach knots and I’m instantly on edge. I take a shaky step back.

He must sense my hesitation, and he clears his throat. “Look, finding a new haunting down here, it could bringbig business. You tell me where it is, and I’ll see to it myself. You won’t need any of this stuff. I’ll give you your money back. Just … tell me where it is.”

He seems hungry for information. More like starving.

“You mean you’ll keep it for yourself, right?” I snap. “I gotta go. Thanks for the gear.”

Maverick jumps in front of me. “Hey! You bring me evidence of haunting, and I’ll make sure we make a lot of money off of it.”

“Is that the only reason you’re into ghosts? For the money?”

“The paranormal world can be pretty competitive,” Maverick says as if apologizing for something. “Everyone got a story out of Calhoun Square, but a new one can really drum up some new eyes.”

I shake my head. “What about helping the people who are ghosts?”

Maverick snorts. “You can’t help the dead the way they can’t help you.”

My mind clicks back to that day in our apartment in Harlem. The day that started me down this road of haints, ghosts, and demons. Was that Grandma or not?

Wait! I never told Maverick about Calhoun Square. I never even mentioned it. How did he know?

“So. We got a deal?” Maverick asks.

My throat closes up, sweat dripping onto my shirt. How does he know about the house? Was he following us?

I straighten, deciding to play it cool. “Any last tips?”

Maverick thinks for a moment. “Yeah. Trust your gut. Your instincts know more than science can explain.”

I blink. It’s like he took the words right out of Grandma’s mouth.

When you think you’re being followed, you gotta take the long way home. You walk slow, around lots of people, to blend into the crowd. I spend almost two hours zigzagging my way through the Historic District. I walk the whole riverfront and side streets, stopping in stores I would never buy a thing in. But I don’t spot Maverick anywhere. He’s not, like, a spy or anything. He can’t be that good that I’d miss him.

By the time I make it back home, Robby is dressed and ready to go.

“You got everything?”