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Oscar gave a tentative shrug.“Well, we don’t want to jump to any conclusions. They’re probably all just fine.”

“Who’s probably just fine?” A voice came from the kitchen. A lip-smacky voice that sounded like it was talking with its mouth full. Chad.

Chad was an octopus who lived on the eighth floor. He was an original member of both their heisting gang and investigative team. He visited the apartment a lot, but he sometimes seemed more interested in the contents of Mrs. Food’s refrigerator than their company.

“Guess what, Chad!” Polo said, waving at him. “You’re a spy now! We’re doing secret spy investigating these days. We’ve retired from regular investigating,” she added, nodding significantly at Oscar. That retired part seemed to be important to him.

“Call it whatever you want,” Chad said as he sucked down the last of the herring snacks. “My price has gone up. I’m working for shrimp these days.”

“Fine,” Oscar said. “One question. Have you heard anything about monsters with slavering jaws at the loading dock?”

Chad snorted.“You mean the rats?”

Oscar frowned.“No, I don’t think so.”

“Then no,” Chad said.

“Have you heard ANYTHING about the loading dock?” Marco asked, his eyes narrowed. Past experience had taught him to be skeptical about Chad’s answers. Because sometimes he didn’t tell you the truth unless you asked the question in exactly the right way.

“I’ve heard something about monsters with slavering jaws,” Chad said, chucking the herring-snack jar into the recycling bin.

“But you said—” Marco started.

“Who’d you hear that from?” Polo asked, folding her arms suspiciously.

“You guys,” Chad smirked. “Just now.”

“CHAD!” Polo stomped her foot.

Chad gurgled with laughter and then slid down into the sink.“If you need any spy work done, you know my rates.”

Oscar shook his head as Chad disappeared.“And the sad thing is we’ll need him. Can we even get shrimp?”

“I can add it to Mrs. Food’s grocery delivery,” Walt said, stretching. “Okay, so who’s up for dealing with the monsters? We should go tonight, right?”

“Oh. We?” Oscar said, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. “I just assumed the rats were going to do that. Right?”

Marco and Polo exchanged a worried glance.“You want us to… with the slavering…” Polo said hesitantly.

“By ourselves?” Marco asked.

“That just makes sense, right?” Oscar said. He didn’t quite meet their eyes. “Since you have the vents?”

“Sure, but…” Polo nudged Marco in the ribs.

“I mean, maybe we should stay here? We don’t want to hog all the spy work,” Marco said, wringing his hands anxiously.

“Yeah. And we went last night, sooo…” Polo said.

“I don’t mind if you hog it,” Oscar said. “I hate to ruin your fun.”

“Yeah, but…” Polo tried to think of a counter argument.

“But we did a really lousy job of passing the message, remember?” Marco said quickly.

“We almost ruined everything,” Polo agreed. “So maybe you should check it out, Oscar? So we don’t mess it up.”

“I see your point,” Oscar said slowly. “But you know my feet aren’t good in the vents. We need a more stealthy presence. Walt, maybe you…?”

Walt sniffed.“Well, I mean, I COULD, but—”

“I’ll go!” Butterbean said. “I’ll need help getting out of the apartment, but I’ll go down there. I can do some monster therapy. It’ll be good practice. I’ve got my test coming up.”

Walt shook her head.“Not a good idea. What about Wallace? Maybe he could check it out?”

“Maybe Wallace could check what out?” Wallace asked, strolling into the living room. He was eating a chunk of banana, and he waved it in the air. “Free banana, right there in the dish! My new apartment is awesome.”

“We’re talking about the loading dock. Have you heard anything about monsters there? Dripping venom and whatnot?” Polo said.

“Glowing eyes and slavering jaws,” Marco added.

“Um, nooooo,” Wallace said, lowering the banana. He suddenly seemed to have lost his appetite. “Do they have those there?”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out. Have the loading dock rats said anything?” Polo asked.

“I haven’t seen them lately,” Wallace said slowly. Then he gasped. “IS THAT WHY? DID MONSTERS GET THE LOADING DOCK RATS?” He leaned against the edge of the sofa heavily. He’d been so involved in fixing up his new apartment that he hadn’t even thought to check in with his friends. And now they’d been eaten. It was all his fault.

“We don’t know that, Wallace,” Oscar said quietly.

“It’s just a possibility,” Polo said. “They might not have been eaten.”

“Yet,” Marco added.

“That’s why I’m going down there. To check it out,” Butterbean added. “As soon as it gets dark.”

“No you’re not,” Walt said quickly. She didn’t trust Butterbean down there by herself. She didn’t think there really were monsters, exactly, but whatever was down there could be dangerous. There was no telling what Butterbean might do. “You’re not going, Bean.”

“Except I am,” Butterbean insisted.

Walt gritted her teeth.“Then we’re all going.”

“Um, I don’t think…” Oscar started.

“WE’RE ALL GOING,” Walt said again.

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