Haunting at the Hotel Page 15

Then, there—a long shadow appears in the snow. One with a huge mass. Furry and monstrous.

  “B-b-bear!” I shout.

  It turns and looks at me—with a long snout, dripping drool, fangs bared. It’s not a bear. It’s a dog. The biggest dog I’ve ever seen.

  It snarls at us.

  “SHUT IT!” I shout, trying to close the double doors before the monster gets loose in the lodge. But they are not budging. There’s a sizable snowbank in the lobby now that’s blocking the doors from shutting.

  The shadow moves into the hotel. I can hear the low-pitched growl so close to me that it’s practically rumbling in my ear.

  “Run!” I mouth at Eliza.

  But our run is a tiptoe. A slow, quiet retreat into darkness so that the bear-dog doesn’t hear us. We can’t make it up the stairs. Our only chance is the fire den.

  “Quick, this way!” says a voice behind us. January—thank goodness.

  At the sound of her voice, the dog charges toward us. But we slip inside the den and shut the doors . . . just in time to hear the dog collide with the wood.

  Its barks are deep and guttural, and it scratches the door, eager to get in. Then, suddenly, it stops. No more howls, no more snarls, no more scratching, no more maniacal laughing from some distant corner of the house. Just . . . silence.

  The quiet might be even creepier than the growling.

  “What was that?” January says, holding her heart and panting. “What’s it doing in my family’s hotel?”

  * * *

  TO ASK JANUARY WHAT SHE’S DOING AWAKE, CLICK HERE.

  TO STOP THE DOG FROM ATTACKING SOMEONE ELSE, CLICK HERE.

  * * *

  I TURN THE arrow until it faces south.

  The floor shakes.

  And tilts.

  Above us is the door, and below is darkness.

  “HOLD ON!” I shout, trying desperately to grab on to a rope—but there is none. Or dig my fingers into the ground—but there is nothing to hold on to. The slick floor is like a slide.

  And so down we go, into a deep, dark pit.

  I can’t believe how quickly this case went south.

  CASE CLOSED.

  I HAVE TO get out of here! I have to run!

  I turn my back on January and bolt. Like my life depends on it. Which it does.

  I’m halfway down the tight hall when something steps into the path, blocking my way: the ghost that kidnapped January earlier. Standing there with clawed hands and a clean mask of two black holes for eyes, and one for a mouth.

  I feel wobbly on my legs. I’m surrounded. I’ve got nothing to fight back with except for the foam insulation in the walls. And nowhere to go. The ghost is in front of me, January behind. Trapped.

  “I don’t understand,” I say. “You’re the ghost.”

  January nods.

  “Then who is this?”

  “Also the ghost.”

  “Two ghosts,” I groan. “No wonder you were able to pull off so many hauntings. So your kidnapping was—”

  “All staged,” January says. “We planned it together.”

  “You’re haunting your own mom,” I say, my head spinning. “Why?”

  “I’m trying to get her to leave. Well, we’re trying to get her to leave, together. Aunt Sunny and I.”

  “Aunt?” I choke as Sunny pulls off the ghost mask. “You’re Reese’s sister?”

  “See, family helps each other out,” January says. “Aunt Sunny has been dying to take over the lodge, while I’m dying to leave. I want to go to real school, with kids my age. I want to live in a town, not all alone at the top of a mountain.”

  “Byron said you and Sunny were fighting.”

  Sunny frowns. “We had disagreements on the severity of the hauntings.”

  “Dead rats leading out of the hotel is a bit too far,” January says.

  “Well, clearly it wasn’t far enough, since my sister is still here. We need to make things more severe. When we’re finished with these detectives, Reese will finally see that it’s too dangerous to stay here.”

  Oh no. I need to keep them talking while I think of a way out. . . .

  “And the dogs were part of that plan to go bigger with the hauntings?” I ask.

  “Yes. We’ve had to get more and more creative, since nothing seems to be scaring my sister away. I found a feral pack, roaming the woods. I led them here.”

  “And the glowing footprints? That was a man’s shoe!”

  “My dad’s,” January says. “I stole his shoe right out of his closet.”

  “We’re in the walls now, so that’s how you were able to make banging and howling noises where no one could see you. Oh, and the first night, when my mom saw your mask and you disappeared, you went into a secret passage in the wall, didn’t you?”

  “Aunt Sunny and I grew up here. We know the layout of the hotel. Add in my sound-mixing skills,” January says, tapping her neon headphones, “and it was very easy.”

  They’re inching closer to me. They’re done talking.

  I look around. But all I can see is foam insulation, used to keep the house warm. Can I do something with that?

  January has nearly reached me, and I think I see a ventilation shaft behind her. I know it’s definitely big enough for Frank to fit into—if only Frank were here. I don’t know if it will be big enough for me . . . but I think it will be?

  I just have to figure out what my best mode of escape is: using insulating foam as a distraction so I can run? Or hopping down a ventilation shaft?

  * * *

  TO THROW THE FOAM, CLICK HERE.

  TO JUMP DOWN THE SHAFT, CLICK HERE.

  * * *

  “WHERE’S THE GHOST, January?” I ask. “Did you see where it went?”

  “I don’t know,” she says. “Can you untie me?”

  “Why would the ghost just leave you here?” I ask.

  “I don’t know! Here—I think you can cut through the rope.”

  “Did you get a good look at the ghost?”

  “No, I didn’t really. I was too busy being kidnapped,” she snaps at me. “Untie me.”

  “Well, was it a human or a ghost?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did it evaporate? Or did it go somewhere? What did you see?”

  January’s eyes narrow. “You ask a lot of questions.”

  “I just don’t want the ghost to surprise us . . . or trap us in here.”

  “Well, it’s a little late for that,” January says.

  “Boo,” says a voice in my ear just as hands grab my shoulders. I’m yanked backward, quickly.

  “Carlos!” Mom shouts.

  But Mom, Eliza, and Frank become distant figures in the distance as I’m half dragged, half carried away. Near the Dead Room, I try to kick my ghost captor. But I end up ripping my pant leg and scraping my knee on a jagged wood plank in the process. It’s bleeding and painful, and I’m sure I just picked up four different splinters.

  But at the moment, this boo-boo is the least of my ghost problems.

  CASE CLOSED.

  “HELLO?” TYLER FROM the Super Hotel Express says in my ear. “Anyone there?”

  I put the phone on speaker so Eliza and Frank can hear too. “Um, yes,” I say in a higher voice. “This is Reese from the Sugarcrest. I need to speak with Luther immediately.”

  “Ma’am, are you feeling okay?” Tyler says. “Your voice sounds funny.”

  “I’m getting over a cold. Frog in my throat.”

  “Cough cough!” Frank says, and Eliza elbows him.

  “Oh . . . okay. I’ll transfer you right over to Mr. Covington.”

  I point at Eliza, my way of telling her to take over.

  “Me?” she mouths.

  “Reese,” Luther says coldly.

  “I, um, got your correspondence,” Eliza says in her best Reese voice. It’s not quite right, though. Eliza’s no actress.

  “Who is this?” Luther says sharply.

  “Reese.”

 
“Liar,” Luther says. “This isn’t Reese’s voice, and this isn’t Reese’s cell.”

  Eliza winces, and Frank puts his hand on his forehead.

  “I’m calling about our correspondence,” Eliza continues stubbornly. “Your most recent letter.”

  There is a long pause. So long that I start to wonder if Luther has hung up on us. “Is . . . is that you?” he finally says.

  You who? None of us answer.

  “Look, I sent you the most recent check. Is that what you’re calling about? Have you looked in your mailbox yet? It’s got to be there today—or worst case, tomorrow. Sorry I was delayed, but I upheld my end. What about your end—are you slowing down lately? I want more results!”

  Frank coughs.

  “That’s all you have to say for yourself?” Luther makes an angry noise, like a whinny. “I am a very busy, important man with things to do! So if you have anything to say, say it.”

  We say nothing. I wouldn’t even know where to start.

  “Then do not waste my time anymore.” He hangs up with great force.

  “That was a bust,” Eliza says to me.

  “Was it?” I look toward the mail slot in the lobby by the door. “He seemed to think he was talking to a partner or informant. He said he sent the check in the mail. We have to follow this lead.”

  * * *

  TO LOOK IN THE MAILBOXES FOR A LETTER FROM LUTHER, CLICK HERE.

  * * *

  I SQUINT AT the scrap of paper from Cricket’s desk. “Eliza, this is seriously hurting my eyes,” I say.

  “Let me try!” Frank shouts, snatching the paper out of my hands. He holds it on his face like a blindfold. “Ah . . . I see, I see,” he says sagely.

  “What do you see?” I take it back from him and put the paper so close to my eyeballs that it’s practically a contact lens.

  “Made you look!” Frank giggles.

  I should have known Frank was pulling my leg. He never solves puzzles like Eliza can.

  “Carlos, think about the angle, the way I was looking at it. The paper was practically horizontal to my eyes.”

  “So . . . you want me to hold the paper sideways?”

  She nods. “Close one eye, hold the paper just under your line of sight, and tilt the page. If you tilt it at the right angle, I know you’ll see the secret message very clearly.”

  * * *

  IF YOU THINK THE ANSWER IS 321, CLICK HERE.

  IF YOU THINK THE ANSWER IS 327, CLICK HERE.

  * * *

  “QUICK! EVERYONE TURN off your flashlights!” I shout.

  Everyone clicks off their lights, and the darkness covers us. I can’t see a thing—not even moonlight can make it this deep into the cave. All I can hear is Frank’s, Eliza’s, and Mom’s heavy breathing.

  “Shhhh,” I whisper, and sure enough, all three of them quiet down.

  We’ve done it! I can’t see even a millimeter in front of my face. There’s no way the ghost can find us in here—

  Something yanks my ankle, and I trip to the ground with a yelp. Around my ankle—I realize in horror—is a rope. It pulls me upward until I am dangling upside down. I thrash around, but it’s hopeless. I’m a rabbit in a snare.

  “Here’s a little secret,” comes a whisper in my ear. “Ghosts can see in the dark.”

  CASE CLOSED.

  “INTO THE FREEZER!” I whisper. “Go, go, go!”

  We all file into the big industrial-size freezer, and we are careful not to shut the door behind us. We leave it open a crack.

  In the fluorescent lights, we’re crouching by a big shelf of vegetables. Mom’s reading Luther Covington’s letter again. Eliza’s holding Frank’s mouth closed.

  I try to listen to the person in the kitchen, and I can’t tell if it’s Fernando or January or someone else. Is it a friend? Or an enemy? I edge closer to the door to get a peek. . . .

  The freezer door slams shut. We’re lurched into darkness.

  “Carlos!” Mom whispers.

  “I’m okay, Mom!” I say quietly, even though I’m shivering. Did the person in the kitchen lock us in purposely? Or was it an accident? Or was it a ghost?

  “No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” Eliza mutters. “Please tell me we’re not locked in the freezer.”

  “Okay,” Frank says. “We’re not locked in the freezer. Feel better now?”

  “No,” Eliza says.

  I fumble my way to a wall. Everything in here is ice-cold, of course. I wish I knew how much time we have before we become human popsicles. I wish I could see. I wish I had a phone or a torch or a flashlight—

  “Eliza! Where’s your backpack?”

  “Here, why?”

  “Flashlights!” I say. “You still have one with you, right?” The battery won’t be frozen yet. Maybe we can find a way out of here.

  She digs into her backpack and flicks on a flashlight. It’s dim, but it works.

  “Excellent preparation, Eliza,” Mom says. “And quick thinking, Carlos.” I can see her breath in the air. “Look around, kids. There should be some sort of emergency lever or fail-safe that will open this door from the inside.”

  Eliza flashes the light around and—there! Three levers to pull. One clearly marked with a grape symbol. One with a peach symbol. One with an apple.

  Good luck getting out of this one, Fernando!

  —January

  First letter is in SHARP but never in DULL.

  Second letter in EYES but not in a SKULL.

  Third letter is in ALWAYS but never FOREVER.

  Fourth letter you can find in any WHICHEVER.

  Last letter is in FINISHED, but not in an END.

  Together you’ll know which lever to bend.

  “What is that?” I ask.

  “It looks like January made a riddle for Fernando . . . ,” Mom says with a frown.

  “She must be really bored,” Eliza says.

  “Well, she is the only kid here,” I say. “I’d be bored too, if I were her.”

  “No wonder she was eavesdropping on us.”

  “So what do we do with this?” I say to Eliza and Mom.

  Eliza leans closer to the riddle. “Each line refers to a different letter in whatever word we’re finding. The final answer will tell us which lever will get us out of here. But one clue at a time. First we have to look for a letter that’s in sharp but not in dull.”

  “You mean . . . all of them?” I say.

  “Yes, but that means the first letter of our final answer can only be S, H, A, R, or P. We’ve already eliminated one lever. Keep going, and I bet we’ll eliminate another lever soon too.”

  “Uh-oh,” says Frank. His voice sounds weird.

  “Uh-oh what?” I say.

  “I lucked da pull.”

  “What?”

  “I lucked da pull.”

  Eliza swivels her flashlight, and Frank’s tongue is on a pole in the freezer, stuck there. He is frantically trying to rip his tongue away, but it won’t budge.

  He tries one more time. “I lucked da pull!” And it dawns on me what he’s trying to say: I licked the pole.

  “You didn’t!” Eliza says, horrified. “Frank, you know that tongues stick to cold objects!”

  “Thun!” he says.

  “No, not fun!”

  “I hope you like being attached to this freezer,” I say. “Because that’s where you’re going to stay . . . forever.”

  The flashlight flickers out for a second, then comes back on. It’s enough to make my heart race. Are we running out of light? Are we running out of time?

  “Hurry,” Mom says. “There’s no time to waste.”

  “Geh me ouhha hea!” Frank shouts. Get me out of here!

  “We’re working on it, Frank!” I turn back to the riddle. It’s our only hope.

  * * *

  TO PULL THE GRAPE LEVER, CLICK HERE.

  TO PULL THE PEACH LEVER, CLICK HERE.

  TO PULL THE APPLE LEVER, CLICK HERE.

  * * *

  I HA
VE TO check out the dumbwaiter. If Fernando saw a ghost in there, then maybe there’s a clue. I walk over and look inside. It’s small—only big enough for one of us.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Eliza says, as my torso is halfway into the dumbwaiter.

  But I crawl in anyway.

  “Carlos, be careful!”

  The doors close behind me, and the little elevator goes down, down, down. Eliza and Frank disappear as the contraption slowly but steadily descends into darkness. I can hear them, but they sound terribly far away.

  “How do we get this to come up?” Eliza shouts at Fernando.

  “You can’t!” he replies. “It’s broken.”

  “What do you mean, broken?”

  “Broken means it does not work.”

  “I know what broken means! But how do we get Carlos out?”

  “We don’t,” Fernando says. “At least not without a firefighter. But with the storm coming, it might be many moons.”

  My legs, all curled up in the dumbwaiter, are starting to cramp. If I sit here for many moons, I won’t be able to investigate! But what choice do I have? The dumbwaiter is stuck!

  Speaking of dumbwaiters, this was a dumb move.

  CASE CLOSED.

  “ELIZA, CAN YOU help me with this phone alphabet thing?”

  “Phonetic alphabet,” she says, over my shoulder. “And sure!”

  A = ALPHA

  B = BRAVO

  C = CHARLIE

  D = DELTA

  E = ECHO

  F = FOXTROT

  G = GOLF

  H = HOTEL

  I = INDIA

  J = JULIET

  K = KILO

  L = LIMA

  M = MIKE

  N = NOVEMBER

  O = OSCAR

  P = PAPA

  Q = QUEBEC

  R = ROMEO

  S = SIERRA

  T = TANGO

  U = UNIFORM