After Jace explained what he needed, Sam was away from his computer for a long time.

Jace tried to be patient. He even tried to take his mind off waiting by doing his reading for history class.

But after forty-five minutes, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Where are you??!” he typed into chat. There was no reply.

Jace quietly opened his bedroom door. He stuck his head out and tried to figure out where Mom was.

There wasn’t a sound.

Maybe she fell asleep, he thought. It’s been a long day for all of us.

He decided to take a risk. He tiptoed into the hallway, grabbed the phone from the little table at the top of the steps, and quietly crept back into his room. Then he dialed Sam’s phone number.

Sam’s dad picked up after one ring. “Hi, Mr. Lewis,” Jace said. “Um, is Sam there?”

“Hi, Jace,” Sam’s dad said. “How is everyone over there? We sure had a fright today, didn’t we?”

“Yes,” Jace said. “We’re okay. Dad’s going to be fine.”

“Good, good,” Mr. Lewis said. “I’ll see what Sam is up to. He was digging through your dad’s latest music purchases last time I saw him. I think he’s still at it.”

A moment later, Sam came to the phone. He was out of breath when he said, “Hello?”

“Did you find anything?” Jace asked. “I’ve been waiting forever.”

“Not forever,” Sam said. “It’s been forty-five minutes.”

“So?” Jace said. “What did you find?”

“I found the man’s name and his home address,” Sam said. “It was written on one of those records.”

“What?!” Jace said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was still looking for a phone number,” Sam said.

Jace rolled his eyes. “I’m sure I can find the guy’s phone number if you tell me his name and address,” he said. “Type it into chat.” And he hung up.

He watched the screen.

After a few seconds, the information appeared in the chat window: “Christopher Pope, 234 Main Street, Ravens Pass.”

Jace copied the text, pasted it into Google, and hit enter.

“I didn’t know you bought your new car in Ravens Pass,” Sam typed. “That place is freaky. I’ve heard a ton of really weird stories about that town.”

Jace ignored the chat window and looked at the search results instead.

Christopher Pope’s phone number appeared.

Jace grabbed the phone and dialed quickly, before he lost his nerve.

“Hello?” said a voice. Jace recognized the voice right away. It was definitely the tall old man who’d sold him the toy car.

“H-hello, Mr. Pope,” Jace said. “Um, this is going to sound weird.”

“Whatever it is,” Mr. Pope said, “I’m not interested. If you need money, ask your momma. Goodbye!”

“Wait!” Jace shouted. “It’s about the car!”

There was no click. Jace waited. But Mr. Pope didn’t say anything.

“Are you still there?” Jace asked hopefully. “Mr. Pope?”

“What car?” Mr. Pope finally asked. “What are you talking about?”

“The toy car,” Jace said. “The red one. The really cool one. I bought it at your garage sale this afternoon for five bucks.”

“Hm,” Mr. Pope said. “Right. The toy car. Okay, what about it? No returns. Buyer beware. All that stuff.”

“Oh, I don’t want my money back,” Jace said.

I probably should get my money back, he thought, but he didn’t bother saying that out loud. Five dollars seemed like nothing with a possessed car crashed in his kitchen, and his dad in the hospital because of it.

“I just wanted to ask you about the car,” Jace said. “Did it ever seem weird?”

“What are you talking about?” Mr. Pope snapped. “I don’t have time for this kind of malarkey. The news is on!”

“I mean, did anyone ever get hurt in it?” Jace said. “Like, seriously hurt?”

“Like who?” Mr. Pope said.

“Well, whose car was it?” Jace asked.

“It was my son’s,” Mr. Pope said.

“Did he die?” Jace asked. “Did the car kill him?”

“What in blazes are you talking about?” Mr. Pope said. “My son is nearly thirty, and he lives in Pine Bluff with his wife and three children.”

“Oh,” Jace said.

Somehow, he was disappointed. He felt stupid, too.

How could he have actually believed that a car could be possessed? It was probably just broken—bad wiring or something. His mom was right. It belonged at the dump.

“Sorry I bothered you,” Jace said.

Mr. Pope snorted and hung up the phone.

Jace hung up too, and typed into chat what had happened. He finished by typing, “So I guess he never noticed anything strange about the car. Maybe it’s an electrical problem or something.”

“Mr. Pope was lying,” Sam typed back right away.

Jace scratched his head. “How do you know?” he typed.

Sam sent a link. It led Jace to a newspaper article on the Ravens Pass newspaper website.

The article was very short. It was about a little girl who had died in Ravens Pass over twenty years ago. Her name was Christina Pope.

“Do you think this is Mr. Pope’s daughter?” Jace typed into chat.

“Must be,” Sam replied. “I bet she had an accident with that toy car.”

“But the article doesn’t say anything about a toy car,” Jace typed. “I mean, what’s the connection? Maybe she just died.”

“Details, details,” Sam replied. “There’s no way it’s just a coincidence. We have to destroy that car, before it can kill again.”

Jace took a deep breath. “I’ll have to sneak out,” he typed. “Meet me in my driveway in five minutes. Bring your wagon.”

“I’ll be there,” Sam wrote back.

“And be quiet,” Jace added. “I’m pretty much grounded.”