Check in to Danger by Joan Lowery Nixon

1

    W HEN BRIAN QUINN CLIMBED out of the swimming pool at the Piney Point Resort Hotel, Jennifer Hicks smiled sweetly and held out an ice-cream cone. “Here,” she said. “It’s on the house. That’s the good side of my dad’s job as manager of the Piney Point.”
    “Good side?” Brian said. “I hope there aren’t any bad sides to the job.”
    He sat down next to Jennifer Hicks in one of the lounge chairs at the side of the pool and took a mouthful of the ice cream, which was melting fast. Jennifer, like Brian, was thirteen; he liked her big blue eyes and her friendly smile. He had met her earlier that afternoon. She had been standing in the lobby when he and his mom and his nine-year-old brother, Sean, had checked into the hotel. It didn’t take long for Brian to introduce himself.
    “Well,” Jennifer said, “it’s kind of strange living in a hotel with people all around, instead of in a house. But most of the time that’s okay. It’s just that …”
    She hesitated, and Brian said, “It’s just what?”
    “Well, sometimes the hotel has … problems. In February the main heating unit broke down and a convention group got out of hand and started smashing things. Dad always handles the problems, but it upsets him, and that makes Mom unhappy.” Jennifer sighed. “Now there’s a problem Dad can’t fix, and it’s been going on for more than three months.”
    “That’s terrible,” Brian said. Jennifer looked so concerned, Brian took her hand to comfort her. That’s when he realized that his hand was sticky with melted ice cream. “Oops,” he muttered, and blushed. He pulled his hand away quickly and wiped it on his wet bathing suit. “Uh, what kind of problem is it?” he asked, hoping Jennifer hadn’t noticed the sticky mess.
    “Thefts from the hotel’s kitchen,” Jennifer answered, “but not from hotel guests. We’re sure that the thief has to be someone who works at the hotel or has access to it, because the thefts have been going on for so long.”
    “The police are on the case, aren’t they?” asked Brian.
    Jennifer shook her head. “The hotel has a security chief,” she said. “His name is Mr. Otis. But we don’t have a police department out here. The nearest town is about five miles away, and it has a sheriff. Each time there’s been a theft, he’s come out to investigate, but so far he hasn’t been able to discover who the thief is. Mr. Otis hasn’t had any luck, either.”
    At that point Sean climbed out of the pool and rubbed his dripping hair with a towel. “Hi, Jennifer,” he said, but he laughed when he looked at his brother. “You’re wearing an ice-cream mustache, Brian. Here. Have a wet towel.” He flipped his towel at Brian.
    Brian’s face grew hot with embarrassment, but he caught the edge of the towel, jerked it away from Sean, and wiped off his face and hands. “Little brothers can be real pests,” Brian mumbled.
    “Not Sean,” Jennifer said sweetly. “I think he’s cute.”
    “Cute?” Brian grinned wickedly at his brother. “Yeah, maybe he is kind of cute.”
    “Cut it out!” Sean muttered.
    “Sorry, Sean,” Jennifer said. “I was just teasing.”
    But Brian said, “Maybe I can help solve the problem of your hotel thefts, Jennifer. I’m not a licensed private investigator yet, like my dad, but I’ve solved a lot of important cases.”
    Sean threw him a sharp look, so Brian quickly added, “With some help from Sean.”
    Jennifer perked up. “Your dad’s a private investigator?”
    “Yes,” said Brian, “but he’s not here. He’s working on a case back home in Redoaks, California. Mom’s on the committee putting on the artists convention that’s here all week, so she brought Sean and me with her.”
    No doubt about it, Brian thought, the Piney Point Resort Hotel was a great place for a relaxing vacation. The sun shone bright and warm, and the Oregon air was crisp and fresh and carried the scent of the ocean, which lay just beyond a