Dead Air

turned to me again. “Kat, I hope you don’t mind hanging out for an hour or two while we get your dad settled in. My nephew’s here, so he can keep you company. We’re so glad this homeschool thing worked out with the two of you.”
I blinked a few times. “Um . . . what?”
“I actually haven’t filled Kat in on that yet,” Dad cut in, shooting me an apologetic look.
“Filled me in on what?”
“Oh, it’s my fault—this was all so last minute,” Lidia said quickly. “My nephew, Oscar—he’s your age—he’s been asking if I could take custody of him since last winter. He’s been with my sister in Oregon, but he . . . well, he had some problems at his school. But I’m always on the road—I couldn’t just pull him out of school altogether . . .” She paused for breath, beaming at Dad. “Then Jess found us a new host with a thirteen-year-old daughter! And Jack said—”
“He’s homeschooling me,” I interrupted. “Right?”
“That was the initial plan,” Dad said quickly. “But Lidia came up with a better idea.”
“We have an intern,” Lidia rushed on. “Her name’s Mi Jin, she graduated last May—college, not high school!—and we asked her if she’d be willing to tutor you and Oscar since she’ll be less involved with the show than your dad and I, and she’d have more time. Plus, you know, a little extra cash in her pocket.”
My mouth opened and closed soundlessly. Lidia talked so fast it was hard to keep up. “Hang on,” I sputtered. “So this guy’s mom let him come with you just because he doesn’t like his school?”
“No, no, his mother died years ago,” Lidia said. “He’s my brother’s son, and . . .” She paused, then waved her hand dismissively. “It’s a long story. Anyway, let’s get in there so you can meet everyone! Kat, I hope you can tag along tomorrow for your dad’s interviews; there’s a pretty cool story behind Crimptown . . .”
I tuned her out as she led the way into the theater. So I had a new teacher and a new classmate. That could be interesting.
The inside of the theater didn’t look too bad. It was chilly and dim and pretty run-down, but it wasn’t falling apart or covered in mold or anything like that. But this was just the entrance to Crimptown, the focus for this episode. All I knew was that it was a tunnel system beneath the Rotterdam waterfront that was supposedly haunted by the ghost of a pirate. And tomorrow we would spend the night down there.
Not that I was scared or worried or anything—growing up watching horror movies starring my grandmother helped me develop an immunity to creepy stuff. (Like the kissing scenes. Oh God, the kissing scenes were the worst. You haven’t experienced real horror until you’ve watched your grandmother make out with a vampire.)
As we passed the small bar in the lobby, I heard the low murmur of people talking. Lidia opened the door to the box office and gestured for me to enter. The chatter stopped, and several heads turned in my direction.
“Hi!” I said brightly, doing my best Anchor Dad impression. “I’m Kat Sinclair, your new host.” In my mind, I could hear Trish and Mark snickering. Of course they weren’t actually here, so my stupid nonjoke was greeted with silence and raised eyebrows. Sighing, I stepped aside to let Dad in.
Soon everyone was shaking hands, and all sorts of names were flying around. I hung back, trying to figure out who was who.
Of course Sam Sumners was easy to spot. Somehow, he looked even more plastic in real life than on TV—shiny black hair, crayon-blue eyes, and eyelashes straight out of a mascara commercial. He smiled at me, and I imagined Grandma swooning and tried not to snicker.
Next to Sam was a scruffy-faced guy with thick eyebrows permanently arched in a way that suggested he was about to say something sarcastic—Roland Yeske, the parapsychologist. (Seriously, a psychologist specializing in the paranormal. Grandma swears it’s a real profession. I have my doubts.)
I also recognized Jess Capote—bleached-blond hair and a gazillion freckles—just before she threw her arms around Dad in a bear hug. Behind them, a girl with an eyebrow ring sat with her combat boots propped up on the table, toying with one of about a dozen cord bracelets. I’d only seen her in a few of the more recent episodes.
Lidia spoke up over all the chatter. “Hey, where’d my nephew get off to?”
“He said he was going up to the projection room,” Roland said, tilting his chair back. He looked at me pointedly. “Did we get picked up by Nickelodeon or something? What’s with all the kids?”
Jess swatted him on the back of the head. “You knew Jack was bringing his daughter,” she said airily before turning to me with a broad smile. “Great to have you here, Kat! We’re about to talk your dad’s ear off and it’s probably going to get real boring real fast, so . . .”
“She’ll be fine on her own for a bit, right, Kat?” Dad smiled encouragingly at me, and I nodded.
“The theater’s not all that big,” Lidia added. “You probably saw the entrance to the tunnels by the bar—they still do organized tours, so stay up here. Oh, we’ve got a laptop set up by the projection room upstairs. The connection is slow, but you should be able to get online if you want. That’s probably where Oscar is.”
Roland let out a groan that sounded half-amused. “Oh God, we’ve got two thirteen-year-olds. This place is gonna be hormone central.”
“Don’t worry,” I said dryly before anyone else could respond. “I’m pretty sure I can control myself.”
Everyone laughed, and even Roland grinned a little. “Good to know. Nice shirt, by the way.”
“Great shirt,” the girl with the eyebrow ring said fervently. “Do you like the comics, too?”
I glanced down at my shirt, where the Crypt Keeper leered up at me. Mom hated this shirt. Well, she hated all my horror shirts. But this one especially. “No, I’ve only seen the