Page 21 of Ghost in the Night

I lick my lips, staring at the Monopoly box on the table. It’s a Pokémon edition, not the classic we have at home.

Not like Grandma’s.

I swallow hard. “Ummm … maybe another time.”

Grandma loved games. Poker, gin, blackjack, even solitaire when no one was around. But with me, she always played Monopoly. Said it was good for life skills, learning about finances and real estate strategy, which seemed mad silly. She’d always buy a bunch of  buildings and do this evil giggle every time I landed on her square and had to pay her rent.

I haven’t played since she died, and I don’t think I’m ready to try yet.

“Coming up on the hour, updates on the Rebecca Hutton case …”

I turn to see the local news on TV. They’re showing a photo of a pretty white girl with long brown hair who’sgone missing. Apparently Rebecca Hutton is a twenty-three-year-old grad student from Virginia who was last seen leaving a bar on River Street at one in the morning. Video shows her walking past a Christmas store, then entering a hotel. She was never seen again and everyone is now obsessed with the story.

I notice there’s no mention of Mr. Truman or Jabari. I can’t believe this isn’t national news by now. The streets should be filled with cops searching for Jabari. I glance at Lena, wondering if she’s thinking the same thing.

“Mailing something?” Lena asks, nodding at the envelope in my hand.

“No, it’s just some stuff I was gonna show Dad …”

“He already headed to the club for the night. Something about practicing some new songs?”

“Oh, then I’ll just—” As I wave the envelope, I realize I didn’t seal it, and some of the contents come spilling out, papers flying. I gasp and dive onto the floor, my heart almost falling out of my mouth.

Lena picks up the picture of the Myers House that floats right by her shoes.

“What’s this?”

Robby’s eyes stretch wide as he watches Lena with the picture.

I try to act smooth and not raise any red flags as I refill the envelope.

“Oh. A picture I took on that ghost tour the other day.”

Lena nods, impressed. “It’s nice! Kind of creepy … but that’s the whole point with those silly tours, isn’t it?” She hands me back the photo. “Where was this one taken?” she asks.

I hesitate before telling her. “Calhoun Square.”

“Mmmm. The African burial ground. Sacred land.”

“Wait! You know about it? They say that place is really haunted.”

Lena smiles and rolls her eyes. “Depends on what you consider haunted to be. The ancestors are there, watching over us, protecting us from things we don’t see. Just because they don’t take no mess don’t mean they’re all bad.”

“What else do you know about Calhoun Square?” I ask her, intrigued.

“The historical society has been petitioning to have thename changed, to reflect and honor our ancestors. Tim Truman was leading the charge.”

I perk up.Tim Truman?Could that be why he was so interested in that house? Maybe Myah was right, after all, and the ghost in there is him.

I want to ask Lena more about Tim Truman and Calhoun Square, but I don’t want her to get suspicious. So I bite my tongue and head back to the guesthouse.

SEVEN

WhenI wake up the next morning, Daddy is already up and out, which is strange. Being a musician all his life, he’s a night owl and never an early riser. I find him at Lena’s table eating eggs and bacon, dressed for the day, along with Lena and Robby.

“Morning, Mony love,” Daddy says, sipping some coffee. Robby follows, sipping what looks like very milky hot chocolate.

“Hey,” I say, fidgeting with my pj’s. “What’s going on?”