But he hadn’t expected one to turn up at his cousin Megan’s wedding. Maybe the weekend wasn’t going to be quite as dull as he’d thought!
“We need to talk!” yelped the dog, who was pacing unsteadily around the lobby.
Joe noticed it had stitches round its middleas though it had been chopped in half and joined back together.
“Are you listening?” snapped the dog impatiently.
Joe nodded, but he couldn’t reply in front of his family – undead pets were invisible to them. In fact, they were invisible to everyone apart from Joe. Thanks to the magical Egyptian amulet that his great-uncle Charlie had given him, Joe was the only person who could see the creatures.
“We’re on the second floor,” said Mum. “Mrs Stanway says there’s a small lift that we can use to take the luggage up.” She handed two bags to Joe – the first was his own rucksack, the other one was pink.
“Hey!” grumbled Joe, forgetting the undead dog for a moment. “Why do I have to carry Sarah’s bag?”
“Because I’m carrying my bridesmaid’s dress!” said Sarah importantly. She pushed pasthim with a large clothes bag in her arms and followed her parents to the lift.
Joe rolled his eyes. Sarah being a bridesmaid was all he’d heard about for weeks! She and their cousin Scarlet – another bridesmaid – had been talking on the phone every day about hairstyles and dresses and shoes.
“There’s no room for you, Joe,” Sarah called from the lift. “Take the stairs!”
The lift doors closed with a PING! and Joe was left alone with the undead dog. Even Mrs Stanway had gone back into her office.
“You’d better tell me what’s going on,” whispered Joe, sitting down on the bottom step. “Who are you?”
The dog sat up straight with his nose in the air. “My full name is Felix Von Frankfurter. And I live here!” He gave an important sniff. “I belong to Sylvia, the lady who owns this hotel. Or at least, I used to … before I died,” he added in a smaller voice.
“How did it happen?” Joe mumbled. “Your death, I mean.”
The dog glanced over at the revolving doors. “I had a bit of an accident…”
“What? You got stuck in the doors?”
Frankie nodded. “Dachshunds and revolving doors don’t really go well together.”
Joe looked at Frankie’s long, thin body. He could imagine it would be easy for a dog like that to get a bit tangled up.
“Sylvia never let me near them,” Frankie sniffed. “I was far too precious to her. She always took me out the back way. But last Monday was different. I had to use the revolving doors.”
“Why?”
“To chase the bad men!” Frankie growled. His little beady eyes bulged out and the hairs on his coat prickled up like a hedgehog.
“Calm down,” said Joe. “Just tell me what happened.”
“Ouch!” Joe grimaced.
Frankie stood up and began to pace around again.
“But why did you bark at my dad?” Joe asked.
Frankie came to a wobbly stop. “Because he looked a bit like one of the robbers. He was wearing the same shorts.” Frankie puffed his chest out. “I’ve been keeping watch in case they come back – like a guard dog!”
Joe smiled. Weren’t guard dogs supposed to be big, fierce dogs like Rottweilers and Alsatians?
“And you’ve got to help, too!” added Frankie.
“Help keep a lookout, you mean?”
Frankie nodded. “AND stop them from stealing anything!”
Just then there was a loud DONG! as a clock chimed in one of the rooms off the hallway.
The hairs on Frankie’s coat stood on end.“Time is running out, Joe! You’ve got to find out what they’re going to steal – and quickly, so we can stand guard tomorrow and stop them!”
“Joe?” Dad was coming down the stairs. “Who are you talking to?”
Joe felt his face go red.
“You’re not still sulking about having to carry Sarah’s bag, are you?”
Joe shook his head.
“Come upstairs and see your room. You’ve got a great view of the beach.”
Frankie gave a
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