The Mayhem on Mohawk Avenue Read online

  Text copyright © 2012 by Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.

  All rights reserved. International copyright secured. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc., except for the inclusion of brief quotations in an acknowledged review.

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  Cover and interior photographs © Eco Images/Universal Images Group/Getty Images (neighborhood); © iStockphoto.com/appletat (silhouette).

  Main body text set in Janson Text LT Std 12/17.5.

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Atwood, Megan.

  The mayhem on Mohawk Avenue / by Megan Atwood.

  p. cm. — (The paranormalists ; case #03)

  Summary: High schoolers Jinx and Jackson investigate a new student’s claim that ghosts are following him.

  ISBN 978–0–7613–8334–5 (lib. bdg. : alk. paper)

  [1. Ghosts—Fiction. 2. Supernatural—Fiction. 3. Best friends—Fiction. 4. Friendship—Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.A8952 May 2012

  [Fic]—dc23 2011047664

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  1 – PP –7/15/12

  eISBN: 978-1-4677-0040-5 (pdf)

  eISBN: 978-1-4677-7081-1 (ePub)

  eISBN: 978-1-4677-3081-5 (mobi)

  PARANORMALISTS BLOG—

  INVESTIGATION #02:

  BLACK EAGLE TAVERN

  Investigation two turned into our best yet, Paranormalist Fans. If you ever doubted the existence of ghosts...well, this nightmare in food service proves you wrong. I approach all cases with skepticism, PFs, and I make sure there is evidence to back up any supernatural claims. I mean, I have the equipment! And the equipment doesn’t lie. There is indisputable evidence that a ghost inhabited the place. Although the fact that I almost died during our last case convinced me more than the EVP readings that this ghost was real.

  Here’s how it came about: Subject came to the investigation team claiming his parents’ business was haunted. Subject had corroborating stories from clients of the business. Upon interviewing them, the investigation team confirmed that the stories were authentic, for sure. And that corroborating witnesses had really good tea.

  Anyway, the case sounded compelling, PFs. Bottles flying, voices talking...Everyone more than a little scared. Evidently this place was always haunted, but the spirit had been nice. He’d turned mean, it seemed. So Investigator #2 and I spent one night there, and guess what happened?

  Nothing.

  Per usual, I was suspicious. After our case with the hoaxer, I thought maybe we were being played again. But subject was so nice and seemed genuinely upset and also had great hair. So we dug a little deeper and found something else out—the activity really only happened when subject’s brother was on the premises too. The plot thickened!

  So we stayed the night again, this time with the brothers. And PFs, I am not exaggerating when I say I thought I might be killed. Bottle after bottle smashed against the wall, glasses flew off the shelves, the place shook, and the lights went out. Investigation team’s equipment went crazy with readings.

  This was one angry ghost.

  It turns out the spirit was being aggravated by the brothers’ fighting. And we were in the crossfire. Long story short, the brothers found a way to make peace. And so did our angry spirit. We decided to let the dead lie, so to speak.

  The Rundown on the Black Eagle Tavern:

  EVP: Voices captured. Audible phrases include the following: “Lissssten...” (I KNOW! Creepy, right?)

  EMF: Crazy activity. Needle on red the whole time.

  Video: Showed lights going out, but no bottles or anything thrown because there is no night vision on the recording device. Or infrared. Sigh. I need one of those cameras.

  Temperature: Dropped many degrees.

  Verdict: MAJORLY HAUNTED. See video channel from the client for testimonial.

  So on to our next adventure, PFs! What do you think the otherworld has in store for us? Comment below, and as always, remember that the Paranormalists SEEK THE TRUTH AND FIND THE CAUSE!

  J

  inx fired up her computer, excited to respond to the Paranormalists fan who had asked for help with a house haunting. This could be the start of something spectacular! It was exactly what she had wanted—the Paranormalists’ reputation was bringing in clients. And not even from her high school! Her wish had been granted by a reader who called him- or herself Mayhem on Mohawk Ave. She clicked on her e-mail and wrote back, careful to sound enthusiastic but not desperate.

  Dear Mayhem,

  Thanks for writing. We Paranormalists would love to help—it’s what we live for! Can you be more specific about what types of supernatural activity you’ve noticed? We have a lot of experience and can help in a lot of different ways. Do you want to banish the ghosts too?

  We can talk more about rate after we figure out exactly what is needed. Do you want to meet with the Paranomalist team at a coffee shop in town and chat?

  Remember, Paranormalists SEEK THE TRUTH AND FIND THE CAUSE. We’re here for you.

  Sincerely,

  Jinx - Paranormalist Investigation Team

  Jinx reread what she wrote, then pressed send with a flourish. Her first Internet client! Things were shaping up. After the last case, Jinx couldn’t help but feel a little shaky, but more determined than ever to investigate more hauntings. She’d started the website and the investigations just to get some notoriety, but she found out fast how much she loved everything about ghost hunting. The equipment, the weird cases, the questions they brought up, and especially working with her best friend, Jackson. She wasn’t quite sure why he was into it so much, but it didn’t matter—they were in it together.

  Plus, she was good at it. Really good.

  After years of not standing out in anything, finally Jinx had found the thing that made her the best. And she loved it.

  She glanced at the clock on her iPhone. Jackson would be there any minute to pick her up for school, and he always hated it when she was late. Which was always. She couldn’t wait to tell him about the e-mail she’d sent, so she sprinted down the stairs and grabbed her coat and backpack to wait outside for him. She was practically humming with energy.

  Just as her hand closed on the doorknob, her mom poked her head out of the kitchen and yelled, “Jane. Breakfast.”

  Jinx rolled her eyes as she jogged into the kitchen. “I told you to call me Jinx, Mom.” Jinx grabbed a pack of Twizzlers off the counter and turned to walk away. Her mom took the candy from her hands as Jinx walked past and said, eyebrows raised, “A real breakfast.”

  Jinx sighed. She grabbed a banana from the stand and held it up for her mom’s inspection. Her mom sighed back, “I guess.” She set her coffee cup in the sink. “Better than nothing. What’s the hurry anyway? Jackson’s not here yet.”

  Jinx gave her mom a big grin. “I just love school so much.” Her mom laughed. Jinx noticed she was extra dressed up. She wore a suit with a skirt and heels. Her mom never wore heels. “What’s with the outfit?” Jinx asked, her mouth full of banana.

  Her mom gave a big smile. “Interview today for VP. How do I look?”

  Jinx shrugged. “Like a mom.”

  “I guess that’s good,” her mom said. Just then, Jinx heard the honk that meant Jackson had arrived.

&
nbsp; She threw the banana peel on the counter and yelled back, “Good luck” as she ran out the door.

  Jumping into Jackson’s car, Jinx bounced on the seat and slammed the door.

  “Careful! Watch it,” Jackson said.

  Jinx rolled her eyes for the second time that morning. “I forgot about your car’s delicate nature.”

  Jackson grinned and patted the dashboard. “You mean Bertha. Bertha’s done me well, so you should treat her with respect.”

  “Blah blah. Guess what? I wrote that dude back. We may have our fifth case soon.”

  Jackson snorted. “You mean third. You’re not counting those first two with just the two of us? Because those were...”

  Jinx finished the sentence. “Amateur, I know. But they got us to where we are, didn’t they?”

  “I was going to say ‘ridiculous,’” Jackson said. “Since, you know, we are still ghost-hunting amateurs.”

  Jinx shook her head. “We’re professionals! We charge.”

  Jackson snorted. “You charge.”

  “Whatever. Anyway, we need to gear up and see what happens with this guy. I’m hoping we’ll get more requests online—maybe we could even go international!”

  Jackson rounded into the school parking lot and found a spot as far from the school as possible. Jinx hated it—he insisted that walking was good for them, so he parked far away from everything. But since he was picking Jinx up every day, it’s not like she could complain.

  “You mean, like Ghost Hunters?”

  Jinx got out of the car and slung her backpack on her shoulders. “Yes! And I know Portland isn’t exactly Hollywood, but maybe we could have a teen show about ghost hunting? Wouldn’t that be awesome?”

  Jackson shook his head as they walked toward the school. “This is one e-mail, J. One.”

  “No, it’s the start, Jackson,” Jinx said, walking through the main doors. “It’s our beginning.”

  Then she stopped short. So short, Jackson ran into her.

  There on the bulletin board, just inside the school doors, was Jinx’s worst nightmare.

  A dark, shiny poster full of amazing graphics was spread across most of the board, crowding out school lunch menus and events calendars.

  It read:

  NEED TO BANISH A GHOST?

  CALL THE EXPERT:

  THE PARANORMALATOR.

  I SEEK KNOWLEDGE

  AND FIND THE SOURCE.

  Call 555-GHOST,

  OR VISIT ME ONLINE!

  Jackson and Jinx looked at each other. Jinx’s mouth hung wide open. Everything about the poster ripped off the Paranormalists. All of Jinx’s hard work on the website, all of the equipment she saved up to buy...and here someone had completely copied everything she and Jackson had done! And somehow managed to advertise at school!

  Someone will die for this, was all Jinx could think.

  A

  fter ripping the poster down despite Jackson’s protests, Jinx marched into the front office to confront the school secretary.

  Brandishing the poster like a weapon, Jinx yelled, “How did this person post this?”

  The secretary, a recent college graduate who obviously hated his job, turned away from his laptop screen and looked at Jinx with bored eyes. “Can I help you?”

  Jinx shook the poster. “This!” was all she could say. Jackson, who had followed her into the office, took over.

  “We’re just wondering if this poster was approved before it was put up on the bulletin board.”

  In a slow voice, the secretary said, “I doubt it.”

  Jinx whinnied with impatience. “Who put it up there?”

  The secretary shrugged his shoulders. “How should I know?”

  Before Jinx could respond the way she wanted to (it involved a few swear words), Jackson grabbed her sleeve and pulled her out of the office.

  “Jinx,” he said, “that obviously wasn’t going to work. And anyway, who cares if some person is copying us? We’re clearly the better outfit around here. Otherwise, why would they have to copy?”

  Jinx flipped around and drilled her eyes into Jackson. “Who cares?” She could feel a vein pulsing in her forehead. “I care.” Her eyes narrowed. “And I’m going to find out who put up that poster.”

  She stormed down the hall to her locker. Jackson might not care, she thought, but Jinx’s whole life was wrapped up in the website. No way was some poser going to interrupt her dreams.

  She reached her locker and flipped the dial. She couldn’t even see straight. The first two tries at opening the locker failed. Finally, she got the right combination and lifted the handle. Grabbing her Algebra II book, she prepared to slam the locker shut but then overheard a conversation right next to her.

  An obvious-freshman boy with red hair and freckles was talking to an equally obvious-freshman girl. If Jinx hadn’t been so angry, she would have giggled about how the boy also obviously had a crush on the girl. But the words coming out of his mouth made her see red.

  “Yeah, he’s got family on the Ghost Hunters crew, so he knows all about that stuff. He’s stayed in some pretty scary places. He’s got a blog and everything.”

  The girl shivered. “I don’t know who would want to hunt ghosts. But he still sounds pretty cool.”

  The boy puffed out his chest. “I’d do it. I’m totally not scared about that sort of stuff. I’m not sure I even believe in it. But this guy says he’s moved all over the country following the Ghost Hunters team. He says his dad is on the production crew. Anyway, that’s why he moved here. His folks got a place on Mohawk Avenue, I think.”

  Jinx slammed her locker shut. Time to make some freshman talk.

  “Hey, you!” She pointed at the boy, and he stepped back like she had slapped him.

  He mouthed, “Me?”

  Jinx raised her eyebrows and nodded. “Yeah, I mean you.” The girl stared wide-eyed at Jinx.

  “Y-y-yeah?” The boy swallowed audibly.

  “Who’s this dude you’re talking about?”

  The redheaded boy said, “His name is Brian. He’s a junior.”

  The freshman girl’s face lit up as she was staring at Jinx. “Hey! Aren’t you that spooky girl who has a ghost-hunting website too?”

  Jinx turned her full glare on the girl. “Too? Brian the poser copied me. And yeah, I’m that spooky girl.”

  The boy smiled a not-especially-kind smile at Jinx. “Looks like you’ve got some competition.”

  Jinx stepped up to the boy until their noses almost touched. Jinx was only five-four, but the kid was about her height, too. He was so surprised, he stumbled backwards. She followed him until he ran into the wall of lockers.

  Turning on her heel, she flipped around and walked down the hall. She heard the girl say, “Oh my god, that girl is sooooo creepy.”

  Jinx smiled to herself. Just what she was aiming for.

  Now all she had to do was find this Brian and let him know what he had coming.

  J

  ackson looked down the street for the billionth time and made sure his phone was off. No one was around that he knew. He could go in. What was the big deal, anyway? He was a paranormal investigator—who would question him going into the store? The thoughts didn’t make him feel any better.

  The Eye of Ra Metaphysical Shop was near a local college campus. So his biggest problem would be seeing one of his brothers on this street. With one last glance around, he opened the door to the shop.

  A bell chimed as he walked into the store, and immediately Jackson’s nose was filled with incense. Lots and lots of incense. When he walked back out, he’d smell like a Tibetan ashram.

  Oh well, he thought. It’ll make Mom happy I don’t smell like sweat for once.

  He had bought crystals at the shop before, special ones designed for ghost banishings, but he hadn’t had a chance to use them. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure they would work. In fact, after reading some of the stuff in the shop, he wasn’t thirty percent sure they would work. But what was
the harm? Anyway, this day he was in the shop for a different reason. A much different reason. And this reason made him incredibly nervous.

  He turned around and almost ran into a salesperson. Jackson jumped back and bumped into some astrology books, knocking down a display. The salesperson, wearing exactly what Jackson thought a shopkeeper at a place called The Eye of Ra should wear—a long, flowing skirt and tunic—smiled while Jackson apologized profusely. She and Jackson began picking up books.

  “I’m so sorry,” Jackson said one more time as he placed the last fallen book on the holder. “Just didn’t see you there.”

  The shopkeeper beamed a radiant smile at him. “My dear, it seems we were meant to bump into each other.”

  Jackson fought hard not to roll his eyes. He was glad Jinx wasn’t around. She wouldn’t have lasted a second with this woman.

  The shopkeeper looked at him with wide blue eyes. “Are you seeking something in particular?”

  Jackson was taken aback by the question. The word seeking had taken on a new meaning lately. Yes, he was seeking something. And he needed one tool to get it. Or so he hoped.

  He cleared his throat. “Well, I’m looking for a...Ouija board.”

  The woman leaned in. “A what, dear?”

  Jackson said it more loudly—so loudly a customer in the back turned to him and glared. “A Ouija board.”

  “Oh.” The shopkeeper leaned back. Disappointment washed over her features. “Oh. Having a slumber party, are we? You seem a little old for that...At any rate, they are called spirit boards now, dear. The connotations of the old name have been so awful, they’ve renamed them. Though like many things, the problem is not with the boards, but with the people who use them.”

  She sniffed the air, then pointed listlessly to the back of the room. “Over there. We get our largest sales around Halloween, but I suppose you’re simply getting a jump on things, eh?”

  Then she turned around and drifted down another aisle.