The Hanging Hill

57

Zack saw Meghan sitting on a sun-drenched bench in the lobby.

“Hey!” he said.

“Hi!” Meghan closed her script. “Do anything exciting last night?”

Zack shrugged. “Read a little. Watched an old movie on TV.”

Chatted with Justus Willowmeier III, Bartholomew Buckingham, and a whole bunch of other dead people.

Zack wanted to tell Meghan all about the theatrical ghosts he had seen swarming outside the theater last night. But Mr. Willowmeier had specifically told him not to say a word to Judy, Meghan, or even Derek about what he had seen and heard.

I’m afraid they may soon need the protection of a demon slayer even more than we do!

Why? Was there some sort of demonic conspiracy brewing against Curiosity Cat? Didn’t demons have more important stuff to do than mess around with musicals?

“So what’d you do last night?” Zack asked.

“Homework. Studied my lines.”

“Homework? In August?”

“The principal of my school doesn’t believe in summer vacations.”

“Your mom?”

“Yeah. So where’s your stepmom?”

“She went upstairs to talk to Mr. Grimes.”

“Oh,” said Meghan, “I almost forgot! I figured out why that girl downstairs was crying!”

“Yeah?”

“I think her name is Princess Nepauduckett. There was this etching that looked just like her—the buckskin dress, the beads, the hairdo—in this obscure Native American history book my mom brought back from the library.”

“Cool.”

“Not really. It was an etching of her execution. They hanged her for stealing food from the first settlers. The Pilgrims.”

Zack pretended to be surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah. Hey, I wonder if Princess Nepauduckett knows your Pilgrim Guy!”

“We’ll have to ask her next time we see her.”

“Yeah! We know where to find her. I figure she’s stuck downstairs.”

Zack wanted to say No. She also rides the elevator. Especially real early in the morning.

But he didn’t.