smiled and switched off the vacuum. “Ruth Rose! The last time I saw you, there was a kidnapping at the hotel. Now we’ve got a ghost!”
“We read about it in the newspaper,” Ruth Rose said. “Is it true?”
“The guests sure think so!” Livvy said. “This place has been a madhouse since Friday night. Our biggest week of the year, and the guests are running out the door!”
Josh smirked. “Does the ghost jump out and say ‘boo’?” he asked.
“Josh doesn’t believe in ghosts,” Ruth Rose said.
“Do
you?”
Livvy asked her.
Ruth Rose shrugged. “I don’t know, but
something’s
scaring the people away.”
“Did you see the ghost?” Dink asked.
Livvy shook her head. “No, and I’dbetter not. When ghosts show up, I’m out of here!”
Just then Mr. Linkletter hung up the phone and walked over. “Ms. Nugent, please continue with your work,” he said to Livvy.
Then he turned to the kids. “What can I do for you, children?”
“We read about the ghost,” Dink said.
Josh rolled his eyes.
“And we saw all the people leaving,” Ruth Rose said.
Mr. Linkletter’s sad eyes surveyed the lobby. All the guests had left, and the place was empty.
Mr. Linkletter sighed. “Apparently a ghost is scaring away our guests,” he said.
“Maybe we can help,” Dink said. “Remember how we found Wallis Wallace when you thought she was kidnapped?”
“I’ll never forget,” Mr. Linkletter said. He looked at the three kids. His thin mustache twitched. His sad eyes squinted.
Finally he said, “Follow me, please.” He turned and marched away.
Mr. Linkletter led the kids to his office. The room was small, with just a desk and three chairs. On one wall hung a painting of the hotel. A framed picture of an elderly couple stood on the desk.
“Please sit down,” Mr. Linkletter said.
The kids sat. Mr. Linkletter opened a desk drawer and took out a paper bag.
“Mint?” he asked.
Each of the kids took a mint from the bag and popped it into their mouths.
Mr. Linkletter looked inside the bag, then popped a mint into his mouth, too.
He sank back into his chair. “This is terrible,” he said.
“Mine tastes okay,” Josh said. “I think it’s lemon.”
Ruth Rose nudged Josh. “I think he means the ghost,” she said.
Josh blushed. “Oh, sorry.”
“As I was saying,” Mr. Linkletter went on, “it all started two days ago, on Friday. It was almost midnight. I was closing my office when a guest ran into the lobby. She was yelling about a ghost on the third floor!”
“Did she say what the ghost looked like?” Dink asked.
Mr. Linkletter smoothed his hair. “She said it was all white—except for the black holes where its eyes should have been!”
The three kids looked at each other. Josh’s mouth was hanging open.
Mr. Linkletter rubbed his temples as if he had a headache. “Anyway,” he went on, “that guest checked out. Lastnight, more guests saw the ghost. Again, it appeared at midnight. Today all those guests checked out.”
Mr. Linkletter shook his head. “This ghost is ruining our business!”
“Did any of the guests say where the ghost went after they saw it?” Ruth Rose asked.
“Apparently it just floats away and disappears,” he answered.
“Did you see the ghost, too?” Dink asked.
“No. I went upstairs, but all I saw was a dozen terrified guests!”
Mr. Linkletter picked up the picture of the elderly couple on his desk. “This is my aunt and uncle, Florence and Ebenezer Spivets. They’ve owned the Shangri-la ever since they were first married, forty-seven years ago.”
He looked at the kids. “They’re very worried. I don’t know what will happento the hotel if this ghost business continues…”
For a minute, nobody said anything. Finally Mr. Linkletter stood up.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he said, “I have to tell my aunt and uncle that the Shangri-la Hotel won’t be having a foliage week this year.”
The kids thanked Mr. Linkletter and
“We read about it in the newspaper,” Ruth Rose said. “Is it true?”
“The guests sure think so!” Livvy said. “This place has been a madhouse since Friday night. Our biggest week of the year, and the guests are running out the door!”
Josh smirked. “Does the ghost jump out and say ‘boo’?” he asked.
“Josh doesn’t believe in ghosts,” Ruth Rose said.
“Do
you?”
Livvy asked her.
Ruth Rose shrugged. “I don’t know, but
something’s
scaring the people away.”
“Did you see the ghost?” Dink asked.
Livvy shook her head. “No, and I’dbetter not. When ghosts show up, I’m out of here!”
Just then Mr. Linkletter hung up the phone and walked over. “Ms. Nugent, please continue with your work,” he said to Livvy.
Then he turned to the kids. “What can I do for you, children?”
“We read about the ghost,” Dink said.
Josh rolled his eyes.
“And we saw all the people leaving,” Ruth Rose said.
Mr. Linkletter’s sad eyes surveyed the lobby. All the guests had left, and the place was empty.
Mr. Linkletter sighed. “Apparently a ghost is scaring away our guests,” he said.
“Maybe we can help,” Dink said. “Remember how we found Wallis Wallace when you thought she was kidnapped?”
“I’ll never forget,” Mr. Linkletter said. He looked at the three kids. His thin mustache twitched. His sad eyes squinted.
Finally he said, “Follow me, please.” He turned and marched away.
Mr. Linkletter led the kids to his office. The room was small, with just a desk and three chairs. On one wall hung a painting of the hotel. A framed picture of an elderly couple stood on the desk.
“Please sit down,” Mr. Linkletter said.
The kids sat. Mr. Linkletter opened a desk drawer and took out a paper bag.
“Mint?” he asked.
Each of the kids took a mint from the bag and popped it into their mouths.
Mr. Linkletter looked inside the bag, then popped a mint into his mouth, too.
He sank back into his chair. “This is terrible,” he said.
“Mine tastes okay,” Josh said. “I think it’s lemon.”
Ruth Rose nudged Josh. “I think he means the ghost,” she said.
Josh blushed. “Oh, sorry.”
“As I was saying,” Mr. Linkletter went on, “it all started two days ago, on Friday. It was almost midnight. I was closing my office when a guest ran into the lobby. She was yelling about a ghost on the third floor!”
“Did she say what the ghost looked like?” Dink asked.
Mr. Linkletter smoothed his hair. “She said it was all white—except for the black holes where its eyes should have been!”
The three kids looked at each other. Josh’s mouth was hanging open.
Mr. Linkletter rubbed his temples as if he had a headache. “Anyway,” he went on, “that guest checked out. Lastnight, more guests saw the ghost. Again, it appeared at midnight. Today all those guests checked out.”
Mr. Linkletter shook his head. “This ghost is ruining our business!”
“Did any of the guests say where the ghost went after they saw it?” Ruth Rose asked.
“Apparently it just floats away and disappears,” he answered.
“Did you see the ghost, too?” Dink asked.
“No. I went upstairs, but all I saw was a dozen terrified guests!”
Mr. Linkletter picked up the picture of the elderly couple on his desk. “This is my aunt and uncle, Florence and Ebenezer Spivets. They’ve owned the Shangri-la ever since they were first married, forty-seven years ago.”
He looked at the kids. “They’re very worried. I don’t know what will happento the hotel if this ghost business continues…”
For a minute, nobody said anything. Finally Mr. Linkletter stood up.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he said, “I have to tell my aunt and uncle that the Shangri-la Hotel won’t be having a foliage week this year.”
The kids thanked Mr. Linkletter and
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