I quietly opened the door to my brother's room. He was facing away from me, reading a magazine. I grinned. He was in a perfect position. I silently walked into his room, my padded running socks that I wear for track making my footsteps silent against the carpet. Once I was four inches away from his ear, I drew a big breath into my lungs.

"RILEY!" I shouted.

He jumped and put his hand over his hear. "Quit doing that!" he shouted, and playfully yanked a fistful of my reddish-gold hair.

"Ow!" I squealed (even though it didn't really hurt that much) and softly punched him in the shoulder before running downstairs into the dining room, Riley hot on my trail.

My mother sighed and gave a small smile as she put two glasses of water in me and Riley's spots on the table. "Arley, I asked you to tell your brother that dinner was ready, not make him chase you down here."

"Aw, come on, Mom," Riley said. "Me and Ar were just goofing off."

My name's Arley, I'm fourteen, and Riley Litman is my older brother. He's also my best friend. You know how on TV siblings don't really get along? How they argue constantly and always seem to hate each other's guts? Well, me and Riley aren't like that. We're best friends, and I'm friends with his friends, even though that never happens on TV either.

Dinner that night was a taco ring, which is basically crescent rolls stuffed with taco meat in the shape of a ring. It's really good, but even better with salsa. Dad agrees with me, but Mom and Riley don't see our point of view.

"How can that be good without any toppings on it?" I asked, pointing to Mom's plain piece of taco ring.

"How can that be good with toppings on it?" Riley countered. "I've never understood your addiction to dump salsa on everything."

I sighed. "Remind me to never take you to Taco Bell. They never serve anything plain. And I do not dump salsa on everything."

"Yes you do," he insisted.

"No I don't," I argued. "Have you ever seen me dump salsa on pancakes?"

Dad cleared his throat. "Kids, listen up."

"What is it?" Riley asked.

Mom sighed. "Riley, I'm sorry to do this to you, but we're going on a business trip tomorrow night and need you to stay home with Arley."

"But...tomorrow night's the investigation," he said. "We're going to an insane asylum in Alameda."

"Then you'll have to take Arley with you."

Take me on an investigation? In an insane asylum? Immediately my heart sped up. I'd always wanted to be a part of Riley's team, but me being on the team would make an even number of people. And that meant that there could be a tie on the whole "haunted or not" verdict. Then it technically wouldn't be either, because the team wouldn't be able to reach a decision. I understood the reasoning, but that didn't mean I was happy about it.

"Mom, Dad, you can't be serious," he said, disbelief written all over his face.

"We are," Dad said sternly. "I'm sorry, son, but you'll have to take Arley. How long does it take to get to a location? An hour? And then how long does the investigation last? Two, three hours? And then you have to drive home for the other hour. That's four to five hours that she'd be home alone, and we don't want her alone for so long."

Riley sighed, his voice laced with irritation. "Fine."

I sort of felt bad. Sure, me and Riley were close, but ghost hunting was mainly his thing, not mine. And as badly as I wanted to be a part of it, I'd have felt way better if he had actually wanted me there. It was funny; I was getting my wish fulfilled and I felt guilty. Stupid teenage hormones.