THE BARCLAY HOTEL was even more impressive than the photos. The front porch was massive and ran the length of the white clapboard building. There were large identical turrets to the left and right, making the place look like a castle.

The driver stopped at the front of the hotel on the gravel driveway.

Penny was awestruck. She was craning her neck to peek through the car window, and JJ noticed that her legs weren’t touching the ground.

“This place is amazing, isn’t it?” Penny said. All JJ could do was nod in agreement. He still couldn’t believe he was here!

JJ’s mom frowned. “My call dropped.”

“There’s no cell phone service at the Barclay Hotel, ma’am,” the driver said. Penny remembered this from reading that teeny tiny print on the invitation, because she had been paying attention.

Jackie’s eyes went wide.

“Is there Wi-Fi?” Jackie asked. Her voice sounded strained.

The driver shook his head as he got out and opened the door for them. “Mr. Barclay believed the hotel should be an escape from the outside world.”

“Which Mr. Barclay are you talking about?” JJ asked. See, JJ was a sharp kid. He noticed the driver was talking about Mr. Barclay in the past tense. “Must be Mr. Barclay Senior, the owner’s father. Right?”

The driver didn’t respond. He just took Jackie’s suitcase out of the trunk and set it on the gravel. Penny’s grandpa got his own bag and observed the hotel with a smile.

JJ’s mom stared at her cell phone for a long moment, then looked up at the Barclay Hotel as she let out a sigh. “That hot tub had better be good,” she mumbled.

But JJ wasn’t going to let his mom’s frustration ruin his weekend. He was at the Barclay Hotel!

A man walked out onto the porch. He was tall, wearing a dark suit with a striped vest, and a chain that disappeared into his pocket. His shoes were shiny, and he had a red bow tie and a very, very big mustache. If you were a mustache expert, you’d recognize it as a handlebar mustache. “Welcome to the Barclay Hotel, Mrs. Jacobson,” the mustached man said. “I’m the butler, Mr. Clark.” He looked down his nose at JJ. “And this must be your son.”

“Yes, this is JJ. I mentioned I was bringing him when I RSVP’d,” Jackie said. Sometimes, JJ really loved his mom’s bossy CEO attitude. Like right then.

“And I assume this is your granddaughter, Detective Walker?” the butler asked Penny’s grandpa.

He was a detective? JJ felt something shift inside his brain. Something was weird about this trip, and it wasn’t anything to do with ghosts. JJ smelled a secret, if that was possible.

Detective Walker said, “That’s correct. Penny is my granddaughter. We’ll share a room.”

“Very well.” The butler sniffed. He stepped aside. “You can bring your luggage in and I will point you to the parlor—or perhaps you would consider it a den.”

JJ was never quite sure what a den was. A sitting room? A place where you kept your lions?

His mom, the detective, and the butler went inside. But JJ was still taking in the Barclay Hotel. He couldn’t believe his luck.

Penny saw a black cat in one of the upstairs windows. But when she blinked, it was gone.

Before she could tell JJ, another girl who looked to be about their age came running out onto the porch. “Here you guys are! Thank goodness. I thought this weekend was going to be a total drag.”

Penny pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and frowned.

JJ blinked. “Who are you?”

“I’m Emma. And we’re all going to be friends.”