“There goes our awesome review,” Ben said.
“Review? What do you mean?” Mom asked.
“Mr. Fox was the mystery travel critic, right?” Ben asked. “Because he’s as sly as a fox.”
Mom stared at Ben. “Mr. Fox is a graphic artist, not a critic. He heard how nice Chincoteague Island was and wanted to propose to his girlfriend here.”
“Propose?” Ben said, wrinkling his nose. “As in getting married?”
Mom nodded. “He came to Chincoteague for one day to see if the setting was right. But after his animal allergies kicked in, he decided to propose in the city.”
Willa was relieved but also disappointed. If Mr. Fox wasn’t the critic, who was?
“Willa, Ben,” Mom said gently, “even if one of our guests is a travel critic, we shouldn’t be doing anything different this week.”
She then flashed a smile and said, “I have an idea. Why don’t you both take a break from your chores and go over to the Starlings’ for a while.”
Willa smiled too. “I like that idea, Mom.”
“Me too,” Ben agreed.
Sarah and Chipper Starling were Willa’s and Ben’s best friends since moving to Chincoteague Island. Willa knew the Starling kids would be super-excited about the pony swim tomorrow. Their dad was a saltwater cowboy, one of the riders herding the swimming ponies from Assateague to Chincoteague. And this year Mr. Starling would be riding Buttercup.
“Maybe Sarah and Chipper will let us use their zip line in the backyard,” Willa told Ben.
“Sure, they’ll let us,” Ben said, pointing at his chest with his thumb. “I did help build the Zipster, you know.”
“Just be sure to get home before dinner,” Mom called over her shoulder on the way to the house. “With the pony swim tomorrow, the dining room will be full with guests.”
And one of those guests, Willa thought, might be the mystery travel critic.
Chapter 4
“AVAST, YE SCURVY DOG!” BEN shouted as he rode the Zipster from the tree house down to the lawn. “Prepare to surrender yer ship!”
Chipper waved a bright blue glow stick from the other side of the zip line. “Not without a fight,” he growled. “You kraken-breathed blaggard!”
Sarah rolled her eyes as she sat on the grass next to Willa. “It’s not even Talk Like a Pirate Day.” She sighed.
Willa was hardly paying attention to their brothers. She was too busy thinking about the Misty Inn mystery man—or woman.
“Sarah, do you think the critic is a he or a she?” Willa asked. She had already filled in her best friend about what had happened.
“It doesn’t make a difference,” Sarah said. “The most important thing is finding out who he or she is.”
“Even though Mom told us not to?” Willa asked.
Sarah nodded and said, “Your mom probably doesn’t know it, but a bad review can make or break a business in a small town like this.”
“How do you know?” Willa asked.
“My mother’s friend Delores owned a café on Chincoteague a few years ago,” Sarah explained. “It was really, really popular until a customer found a horsefly in her macaroni and cheese.”
Willa wrinkled her nose. “Ewww.”
“Even worse—the woman turned out to be a mystery food critic,” Sarah explained, “who wrote all about Delores’s mac and fleas!”
“Great,” Willa groaned.
“Did someone say mystery?” somebody asked.
Willa turned to see her other friend Lena. The only thing Lena loved more than mystery books and TV shows was solving mysteries herself.
“A mystery travel critic might be staying at the inn this week,” Willa explained. “Ben and I want to make sure Misty Inn gets a good review. It’s really important.”
“Not just a good review, Willa,” Ben chimed in as he and Chipper raced over. “Awesome.”
Willa told Lena everything about Mr. Fox. “We thought we’d found our mystery critic,” Willa said, “but now we’re back to square one.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m here to help,” Lena said, sitting on the grass next to the others. “What do you know so far about the person who’s coming?”
“Not much,” Willa admitted. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of notepaper from Mom’s desk. “It could be any of these guests staying at Misty Inn for the pony swim.”
Lena scrunched her brow as she studied the list of guests who would check into Misty Inn that day.
Blue Room: Mr. Frank Ross of Virginia, traveling alone.
Red Room: Mrs. Andrea Iori and her daughter, Yuki, from Philadelphia.
Green Room: Mrs. Ida and Mr. Elmer Green from Ohio.
After a few seconds Lena announced, “Done. I found your mystery travel critic.”
“How did you do that?” Ben asked.
“Through the process of elimination,” Lena said, pronouncing each word carefully. “The first suspect out is Mr. Ross. I don’t think he’s your guy.”
“But he’s a man traveling alone,” Willa pointed out. “So he could be working.”
“You had a man traveling alone at the inn last night,” Lena reminded. “How did that work out for you?”
“Not good.” Willa sighed.
Next Lena pointed to Ida and Elmer Green on the list. “They’re out too,” she said.
“Why?” Willa asked.
“Because Ida and Elmer are old-fashioned names,” Lena pointed out. “They’re probably retired and here for the pony swim, not to write a review.”
“That leaves Mrs. Iori and her daughter, Yuki,” Sarah said. “Why would a mystery writer bring her daughter along on a job?”
“Because Yuki would be the perfect distraction while she scopes the place,” Lena explained. “Spies in the movies use distractions all the time.”
Willa stared at Lena. Her friend’s over-the-top imagination was making her head spin. So was trying to figure out who the mystery travel critic was. And with such a busy week ahead, that was the last thing Willa really needed, so . . .
“Maybe Mom was right,” Willa said, folding the list. “Maybe we shouldn’t waste time trying to find a person who may not even show up. Maybe these aren’t even their real names!”
“Waste time?” Sarah repeated. “But I told you what happened to my mom’s friend Delores.”
“That will never happen at Misty Inn, Sarah,” Willa said, shaking her head. “Or at Family Farm restaurant.”
“Why not?” Sarah asked.
“Because mac and fleas is not on the menu,” Willa joked.
After taking one last ride on the Zipster and paying Buttercup a visit, it was time to head home.
“Remember, you guys!” Chipper called to Willa and Ben. “You’re watching the pony swim from our skiff tomorrow.”
“Arrgh!” Ben shouted back to Chipper pirate-style. “Yer’ll be watching from the crow’s nest, ye scalawag!”
“Ben.” Willa sighed. “Seriously?”
Once home, Ben ran inside for a snack. But Willa wanted to check on Starbuck.
Starbuck nickered happily when she saw Willa. The moment Willa opened the stall door, the pony nudged the pocket of her shorts—her way of saying she wanted a snack too.
Willa never left the house without a treat or two for Starbuck or other ponies.
“Bon appétit,” Willa declared, and then she giggled as Starbuck nibbled a string bean from her flat palm. No matter how often she fed her pony, it always tickled.
“Tomorrow’s the big day, girl,” Willa said as she stroked Starbuck’s velvety forehead. “Maybe you’ll see some old friends from Assateague Island.”
Starbuck inhaled, then puffed breath out her nostrils. Willa knew Starbuck wouldn’t watch the big swim tomorrow, but she loved thinking her pony was just as excited as she was.
After getting Starbuck fresh water, Willa gave her pony’s ear a final scratch. “Time to help Mom and Dad now,” she said.
Willa left the
barn, closing the door behind her. As she turned she noticed a shiny red car pulling up behind the inn. The car stopped, and the door on the driver’s side opened. Willa watched as a woman stepped out. She wore slim black pants, a white sleeveless blouse, and sleek sunglasses.
Slung over one bare shoulder was a large canvas bag.
After a few seconds the passenger door opened and a girl stepped out. She was dressed more sportily in cargo shorts, a gray T-shirt, and a red baseball cap.
Willa tried to figure out the girl’s age. She looked about nine. Or maybe nine and a half. Maybe even ten.
Most of our guests are older, Willa thought. It’ll be great to have someone close to my age at the inn. I wonder if she’s nice—
The girl might have felt someone watching her, because she turned and looked straight at Willa. Willa felt her cheeks burn—embarrassed to be caught staring. But the girl smiled. It was a shy smile but a friendly one.
Willa gave a little wave and called, “Hi.”
The girl waved back just as Ben charged out of the house to help with their luggage. The woman seemed happy to have Ben lug their bags—just not her canvas one.
As the three filed into the house, Willa had a pretty good idea who the guests were. The woman was probably Mrs. Iori. The girl could be her daughter, Yuki.
But were they actually the restaurant reviewers, with Yuki as the distraction, as Lena suggested?
Chapter 5
WILLA BRUSHED HER HAIR UNTIL it was nice and shiny. Next she stood in front of her full-length mirror making sure her sundress was crisp, her sandals mud-free. After a day of stall mucking and zip lining, she was finally clean and ready for dinner.
Thoughts of the mystery travel critic were no longer on Willa’s mind. She was too excited about the pony swim the next day. And about having a guest her age at the inn.
“Ben, guess what?” Willa asked once out in the hallway. Ben was also cleanly dressed with his hair actually combed. “I saw the girl who’s—”
“Me first,” Ben pleaded. “You’re not going to believe this. Not in a million years.”
“Believe what?” Willa asked.
Ben leaned forward, whispering, “One of the guests who just checked in has got to be the mystery travel critic.”
Willa’s shoulders dropped. Not again.
“Ben,” Willa complained, “from now on I want to concentrate on the pony swim.”
“But while you were getting ready, that man traveling alone, Mr. Ross, checked in,” Ben said. “When I went to help him with his bag, he wouldn’t let me touch it!”
“So?” Willa said. “Lots of guests want to carry their own bags.”
“This was a plain black briefcase,” Ben said, his eyes wide. “When I grabbed the handle, he grabbed it too. Then he stared me straight in the eye and refused to let go.”
“Maybe he has important papers in his briefcase,” Willa guessed.
“Sure,” Ben said, narrowing his eyes. “Important travel critic papers!”
Willa had to admit—this new guest did sound mysterious. Mysterious enough to make them wonder about the mystery travel critic all over again.
“That was my news,” Ben said. “What’s yours?”
Somehow, talking to Ben about Yuki didn’t seem so urgent anymore. “I’ll show you later in the dining room, Ben. But remember, we don’t know for sure if Mr. Ross is the travel critic.”
“It could be any of the guests,” Ben said as they headed down the stairs to the kitchen. “So let’s treat them all like kings and queens.”
Willa refused to go that far. But she did want all their guests to love Misty Inn as much as she did. And a big part of what she loved about Misty Inn was her dad’s cooking.
“Dad, these fish sticks are delicious,” Willa said as she and Ben finished their dinners in the kitchen.
Dad was hunched over a chopping board on the big butcher-block table. He was slicing mushrooms so fast his hands seemed a blur.
“That’s actually panko-crusted fish sticks with an herb dipping sauce,” Dad explained. “I thought the girl who checked in with her mom might like them.”
“You mean Yuki,” Willa said, swirling her fish stick in the sauce. “I saw her and her mom check in before. She looks very nice.”
“Distractions usually are,” Ben said.
“Distractions?” Mom asked as she walked into the kitchen. “What distractions?”
“It’s nothing, Mom,” Willa answered, and turned to her father to quickly change the subject. “Dad,” she asked, “did you ever cook this at the fancy hotel you used to work at in Chicago?”
“Sometimes,” Dad said.
“What was so fancy about that hotel?” Ben asked.
“Well, at check-in each guest was greeted at the desk with a glass of fresh orange juice and a hot towel,” Dad explained. “And every night they would find an expensive chocolate on their pillows.”
“So they would have sweet dreams!” Willa joked.
Ben’s eyes flashed. He jumped up, placed his empty plate in the sink, then dashed out of the kitchen.
“Where’s he off to?” Mom asked. “You both know you have a very special job tonight in the dining room, right?”
Willa nodded. “To tell the guests what’s on the dessert menu.”
“And that means carrying this,” Dad said as he pulled a platter out of the refrigerator.
Willa’s mouth watered at the sight of the dessert platter. It overflowed with the most yummy-looking desserts her dad had ever baked.
Willa lifted the platter to make sure she could hold it. She then described each dessert one by one—exactly as she would do for the guests.
“Good evening,” Willa practiced. “Our desserts tonight are lemon chiffon cake with strawberry cream frosting, chocolate fudge brownie with whipped cream, assorted cookies, and an all-natural raspberry sorbet.”
“Which will be a puddle if you don’t hurry,” Mom said with a smile.
Ben came back into the kitchen, grabbed a pad from the counter, and said, “I’ll write down the orders.”
With Ben at her side, Willa carefully carried the desserts into the dining room.
“There’s Mr. Ross talking on his phone,” Ben said, nodding toward a table against the wall. “Hopefully he’s reporting on the most awesome meal of his life.”
Willa was more interested in the diners near the window. That’s where Yuki and her mom sat. Mrs. Iori had changed into another trendy summer outfit. Yuki was still dressed in her cargo shorts but now with a red T-shirt.
“Let’s start with the nearest table, where that older couple is,” Ben suggested. “Then we can work our way back.”
As Willa brought over the dessert platter, the guest’s voice excitedly boomed. “Well, now, Ida, as if that scrumptious seafood casserole wasn’t enough, look what we have here.”
The woman smiled back. “This must be our lucky day, Elmer.”
Willa grinned. Just as she guessed, it was Ida and Elmer Green—the retired couple who probably were not the mystery critics.
“I know exactly what I want,” Elmer said cheerily. “That raspberry sorbet looks nifty. I’ll have that.”
Ida tapped her chin thoughtfully as she eyed the desserts. “That brownie. Is it milk chocolate or dark chocolate? And is that topping buttercream or whipped?”
Willa wasn’t too sure but said, “Our dad likes to use dark chocolate and whipped cream, but we can check—”
“Not necessary, dear,” Ida interrupted. “Now, if I wanted a different flavor of sorbet, would I be able to get it?”
Willa nodded. “Besides raspberry, we have lemon and coconut.”
“Splendid,” Ida said. “In that case I’ll have the assorted cookies.”
Willa and Ben traded surprised looks. After all those questions about the brownie and sorbet, Ida ordered cookies? Was that suspicious?
Whatever.
Ben wrote down Ida’s order. As they headed to the next table, he whispe
red, “Now let’s see what James Bond wants for dessert.”
Mr. Ross was still busy on the phone, his briefcase under the table. He stopped speaking when he saw Willa and Ben.
“What have we here?” Mr. Ross asked, smiling at the desserts.
Willa described the desserts one by one. When she was done, Mr. Ross ordered the chiffon cake and a cup of coffee.
“Excellent choice, sir,” Ben declared, writing on his pad with a flourish. As they turned away from the table, Mr. Ross went back to his call, speaking loudly enough for Willa and Ben to hear. . . .
“You know I’m on a secret mission,” Mr. Ross said. “I’ll do the best I can.”
Secret mission?
Ben shook Willa’s arm, almost making her drop the desserts. “Willa, did you hear that?” he hissed. “He said he’s on a secret mission.”
“I heard,” Willa said. Ben was right. Mr. Ross sounded more mysterious by the minute.
Willa and Ben served more desserts, saving the Ioris’ table for last.
“Hi,” Willa greeted Mrs. Iori and Yuki. “I’m Willa Dunlap, and this is my brother, Ben.”
“We’re the Ioris,” the woman said with a warm smile. “I’m Andrea, and this is Yuki. She’s ten.”
“I saw you standing by the barn before,” Yuki said to Willa, her voice excited. “Are there any animals in it?”
Willa nodded and said, “My pony, Starbuck. Maybe you can both meet her while you’re here.”
“That’s a nice offer, Willa, but I’ll pass,” Mrs. Iori said. “Seeing all the swimming ponies tomorrow will be plenty for me.”
Mrs. Iori continued, “I came to Chincoteague Island to work.”
“ ‘Work’?” Ben repeated. Willa caught him raising an eyebrow. “What kind of work?”
Before Mrs. Iori could answer, Yuki smiled at Willa and chimed in, “I’d like to watch the pony swim. I can never see too many ponies.”
That gave Willa an idea.
“Ben and I are watching the pony swim from our friends’ skiff tomorrow,” Willa told the Ioris. “I can find out if there’s room for both of you.”
Pony Swim Page 2
