Check in to Danger (6 page)

“Does he wrap the bones in aluminum foil? Or plastic wrap?”

“I don’t know what he wraps them in,” Ann said. “He always carries them out in that big gym bag of his.” She stared at Brian. “What difference does it make?”

“Our neighbor has a dog,” Sean piped up.

“Sorry,” she said. “We don’t give out bones to anyone but Palmer,” Ann said.

A chef hurried from the back room, his tall white hat quivering. “The steaks!” he shouted. “The entire package … delivered this morning! Gone! And a large ham! Now, you tell me—where could they be?”

“What time were they delivered?” Brian asked.

“Out!” Ann said. “You kids don’t belong in here!”

She hustled them out quickly and shut the door. In the hallway Brian smiled. “I have a good idea now of who’s been stealing the meat!” he announced. “It’s like a network of contacts. And it starts with Palmer.”

“But security examines Palmer’s gym bag when he leaves the hotel,” Jennifer said. “They open and look through everything. Just ask Mr. Otis. He’ll tell you.” She made a face. “Besides, meat would be ruined if it wasn’t refrigerated all day long.”

“Right,” Brian nodded. “I’m not sure yet how Palmer is transporting the stolen stuff from the hotel. Especially since everyone is searched.”

“Not everyone,” Sean reminded him. “The guests aren’t searched.”

“Guests,” Brian said. “I wonder …”

“But the thief can’t be a guest,” Jennifer said. “Our hotel guests are here for short visits, and the thefts have been going on for more than three months.” Jennifer opened the door to the main hallway, which was filled with a tour group lining up at the restaurant.

“We’ve got to talk about this where we can’t be overheard,” Brian said. “Let’s try the porch.”

But the porch was crowded with guests enjoying the beautiful day, and the garden bench was already occupied.

“If we go to our apartment, Mom’s likely to walk in on us,” Jennifer said. “But off the lobby there’s a small conference room that’s probably empty. Come on.”

They elbowed their way through the group of people who were signed up to take the airport shuttle, then entered the room and turned on the lights.

Brian said, “Okay. This is how I’ve figured it out. What Mom said about her network of friends made me think about Palmer and his friends. Palmer takes the meat from the refrigerated lockers and places it in his gym bag, and no one suspects him because everyone thinks he’s carrying dog bones. Then Palmer passes the bag to his friend, Jed, who takes the gym bag to the airport.”

“But Brian,” said Sean. “A gym bag is pretty conspicuous. After a while, wouldn’t someone become suspicious of it?”

Brian frowned again and scratched his head. “You’re right.”

“Besides,” said Jennifer, “all employee bags are searched.”

“And everyone knows that that’s Palmer’s gym bag,” said Sean. “Also, wouldn’t Mr. Otis wonder why Jed was driving Palmer’s gym bag to the airport?”

“Right,” said Brian, and nodded. “What we’re looking for is a big bag that is so inconspicuous that no one in the hotel would notice it going back and forth. Even after a lot of trips.”

Trips, thought Sean. Suddenly he remembered the first time he had tripped over the old brown suitcase in the lobby. He hadn’t even noticed it there with all the other suitcases. That had to be it!

“Suitcases!” shouted Sean.

“What are you talking about?” asked Brian.

“The meat isn’t being carried out in a gym bag,” explained Sean. “It’s being taken out in a suitcase. No one would pay any attention to a suitcase. They would think it belonged to a guest!”

“That’s it!” agreed Brian. “I bet there are hundreds of suitcases that go back and forth each day. And most of them all look alike. It would be hard to notice one from another.”

“Yeah,” said Sean, “except if it was brightly colored or had a mark or something on it. Most of the suitcases I saw in the lobby were all just kind of boring looking.”

“Okay,” said Brian. “Jennifer, how many trips does the hotel van make to the airport each day?”

“Four,” Jennifer answered.

“So on any one of them Jed could add the suitcase. Then, after he drops off his passengers, he could drive to the Empire Hotel and pass the meat to Robert, who sells it to whoever buys the meat for the hotel.”

Jennifer whistled. “It sounds right,” she said, “but how are we going to prove it?”

Sean was thinking about what he had said about marks on the suitcase. The word seemed important, but he couldn’t figure out why. Then he remembered. The scratch on the suitcase! Both times that he tripped on the suitcase, he noticed a scratch on the top corner—the same scratch!

“Brian!” he shouted. “Remember when I tripped over that suitcase before and worried about scratching it? A little while ago the same old brown suitcase was there in the lobby along with the others, ready to be placed in the hotel van! I saw it! I’ll bet those missing steaks are in it!”

“I’ll get Dad,” Jennifer said. She jumped up and ran out the door, returning in a few minutes with her father.

After Brian and Sean introduced themselves, it took only a few minutes to tell Mr. Hicks everything they’d found out and what they suspected.

“Your ideas make good sense,” Mr. Hicks told them.

“Do you think Martha knows about it?” Jennifer asked.

“That’s for the sheriff to discover,” Mr. Hicks said, “but I doubt that Martha’s at fault. I’m guessing that Martha’s concerned that her nephew might be involved in our thefts but probably has no idea how.”

He smiled as he said, “I can vouch for Edna, too. She came to the offices during rehearsal, asking for an aspirin. Martha gave Edna an aspirin, led her to a sofa in the employee lounge, and tucked her in for a nap.”

“I think we’d better call the sheriff,” Brian said.

“And the front desk,” Mr. Hicks said. As soon as he’d hung up the phone, he said, “Jed has already left with the van. The sheriff is going to let him carry out the delivery and will pick up both Jed and Robert at the Empire Hotel when Robert accepts the stolen meat.”

“What about Palmer?” Jennifer asked.

“I was told to have Mr. Otis take Palmer into custody.”

“Nobody saw Palmer give the meat to Jed. So how will the sheriff prove that Palmer is in on the thefts?” Jennifer asked.

“Fingerprints!” Sean said. “I bet Palmer will have his fingerprints on the suitcase.”

“And a lab might be able to pick up traces of meat in his gym bag,” Brian added. “Also, Palmer’s the only one of the three who has access to the kitchen.” His smile was grim. “I doubt that Jed or Robert will let Palmer go free and take the rap by themselves.”

“Take the rap!” Jennifer repeated, her eyes wide with admiration. “Oh, Brian, you sound just like the private eyes on television.”

Brian tried to look modest. “We private investigators have a language all our own,” he told her.

“Oh, yuck!” Sean muttered. “Give me thieves, robbers, or ghosts. But please! No more girls!”

Mr. Hicks took a pager from his belt and punched in some numbers. “I’m going to meet Mr. Otis,” he said. “Suppose the three of you order whatever you want from the Hamburger Hut while you wait. If all goes as we think it will, I promise you’ll be the first to know.”

As soon as Mr. Hicks left the room, Brian said, “I want to be there when Palmer’s busted, not hear about it later. Don’t you?”

“You bet,” Sean said.

“Let’s go!” Jennifer cried.

Mr. Hicks and Mr. Otis weren’t hard to shadow. They strode toward the dining room, so intent on the business at hand that they didn’t notice they were being tailed.

Brian, Sean, and Jennifer stopped at the entrance to the nearly empty dining room and watched as Mr. Hicks spoke to Palmer.

Palmer looked shocked and scared. Then he bolted, dashing toward the main entrance to the dining room.

“Stop him!” Mr. Otis yelled.

Palmer was fast, but Sean grabbed a menu and swatted him in the face as he ran through the doorway.

“Ooof!” Palmer gasped, and staggered back a step.

“Ugh!” he grunted as Brian hit him below the knees, knocking him flat.

“Ouch!” he shouted as Jennifer sat on him.

“Good work, kids,” Mr. Hicks said as Mr. Otis hauled Palmer to his feet, handcuffed him, and led him away.

Brian grinned. “Wow! This is exciting! Wait till we tell Dad that we solved another case!” Solving a case was fine, but Sean was much more excited about what Mr. Hicks said next: “Why don’t all of you join me for some ice cream while we talk about a reward?”

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1995 by Joan Lowery Nixon

cover design by Omar Olivera, Andrea C. Uva

978-1-4532-8276-2

This edition published in 2012 by Open Road Integrated Media

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