Hotel for Dogs by Lois Duncan ch 14-1
CHAPTER FOURTEEN Thanksgiving Day passed quietly. It was a strange, still sort of day with the sky clear and blue and the cold of almost-winter settled over everything.
Debbie left for home soon after breakfast in order to share the holiday with her own family. The Walkers and Aunt Alice went to church and came home for the traditional turkey dinner. Then Mr. Walker brought in some wood, and they sat together in front of the fireplace to enjoy the first fire of the season. There was no sound from the hotel.
“Preston must have settled down at last,” Andi whispered to Bruce in one of the few private moments they had together. “He looked really at home there when I sneaked over this morning to take the dogs their breakfast.” “Everything's too quiet,” Bruce said uneasily. “It's like the stillness before a thunderstorm. It's a getting-ready sort of feeling.” His stomach felt sick and queasy under its load of turkey and dressing. “The projector cord is gone out of the outlet. I looked over there after church. It won't be long now before Jerry brings his father over here, and they'll talk to Dad, and the whole story will be out.” “I don't think so,” Andi said confidently. “Just having the cord won't tell them where it came from. They'll guess how the ghost trick worked, but they won't know who did it. If they do come over, all we'll have to do is act like we don't know what they're talking about.” “The projector's smashed,” Bruce reminded her grimly. “Do you think Dad's not going to notice that? Especially when the cord's torn out of it and a matching cord has turned up in the Gordons' wall?” “Stop worrying, Bruce. It's Thanksgiving. We have lots of things to be thankful for.” Andi would not be depressed. “The scheme worked perfectly. Just hearing Jerry scream — wasn't that worth anything? ‘Help! A ghost! A ghost! '” She giggled at the memory. “And Dad's going to be working right here in Elmwood. Think how cool that is. We'll be close enough to keep up the hotel. Imagine if we'd had to move again halfway across the country. What would we have done with the dogs?” “I guess you're right,” Bruce said, and he tried to feel thankful. But the cold, waiting feeling remained inside him. All the rest of the day he fought it, but by nightfall it was still there as solid as ever. Something — and not a good something — was going to happen.
When the “something” did occur, it was the next morning. Andi knew about it first. The doorbell rang just as she was carrying her cereal bowl to the kitchen.
“It's probably the man from the real-estate agency,” said Mrs. Walker, drying her hands on a dish towel. “When I talked with him on Wednesday, he said he'd be over first thing this morning, but I didn't know it would be quite this early.” “You mean we're going to look at houses?” Andi asked her. “We certainly are,” her mother said happily. “Aunt Alice is a wonderful, kind, good, generous person, but, oh, Andi, you can't imagine how happy I'll be to have a house of our own again!” The man from the agency was named Mr. Crabtree. He was short and bald with a black mustache and a precise, decided manner.
“Let's see if I have your requirements correct,” he said in a businesslike voice as he drew a sheet of paper from his briefcase. “You want a living room and a family room with a fireplace. At least three bedrooms. A big backyard with trees and plantings.” “That's right,” Mrs. Walker said. “And if possible we'd like it in this neighborhood. I'd hate to make the children change schools again.” Mr. Crabtree frowned. “Well, that makes things a bit more difficult. Most of the houses I had listed for you to look at are in other school districts. There's one, though, the Brower place, which might be just what you're looking for. Would you like to see it now?” “Yes, indeed,” Mrs. Walker said eagerly. “I'll get my coat. Can we take your car? My husband has ours at work.” “We won't need to drive,” Mr. Crabtree said. “It's right down the street.” “It's what?” Andi felt a sudden chill sweep over her. “Oh, Mom, no — we don't want that house! It's old. It's shabby. The yard's all overgrown.” “Houses can be painted,” Mrs. Walker said comfortably, “and grass can be cut, and I like old houses. They have a nice, lived-in feeling to them. Besides, how convenient it would be to live close to Aunt Alice! We could visit her every day, and she'd never feel lonely again.” “Mom, no. Please. Let's not go over there!” Andi was almost weeping. Her mother regarded her with bewilderment. “Of course, I'm going over there. Why shouldn't I? Really, Andi, this isn't at all like you. Don't you want to come with me? You've never seen the inside of that house, either.” “I don't — you can't!” Andi whirled and went tearing down the hall. “Bruce! Bruce! Where are you? Bruce, the thing you were scared of — it's happened!” Bruce was in the den, trying to study. He glanced up when his sister came rushing in. One look at her face was enough to drain the color from his own.
“What is it? What's happened?” He was out of his chair in a minute. “Who was that at the door? Mr. Gordon and Jerry?” “No, worse. Much worse.” Andi could hardly get the words out. “A real-estate agent's here, and he's taking Mom to look at houses, and the first house they're going to look at is our house! The dogs' house! The hotel!” “Oh, no!” Bruce was down the hall and out the door like a bullet. By the time he had reached the sidewalk, he knew it was too late. His mother and Mr. Crabtree were already standing on the front steps of the hotel, and Aunt Alice was with them. Mr. Crabtree was fitting a key into the lock.
“It's a roomy house,” he was saying. “Just the number of rooms you are looking for. The people who owned it had to leave suddenly. I think their son had some sort of emotional problem and couldn't adjust here.” “Mom!” Bruce shouted, and his mother turned to wave at him. “Come with us, dear,” she called cheerily. “We may be getting our first look at our new home!” “It's too late, Bruce.” Andi echoed his own thoughts as she caught up with him. “It's too late to do anything now except pray.”
