Stalk, Don't Run (12 page)

“That Magpie in Bunk Harmonia is always going on and on about her big sister and her friends,” Ava said, rolling her eyes. “Spare me.”

“You mean
Maggie
?” Bess said angrily.

“Whatever,” Ava said. “We saw you with
Maggie
when Amy was giving you a tour of the camp.”

“We also saw you at Three Bean the other night,” Lindsay said with a sneer. “We know you’re following us.”

“We weren’t then, but we are now,” I said.

“You’re also not supposed to be shooting arrows at people,” Bess said. “Or didn’t you learn that in archery?”

“What are you talking about?” Ava asked.

“We’re not even into archery,” Lindsay said.

Darcy nodded and said, “It breaks our nails.”

I cocked my head as I studied them. They did seem confused and surprised. Could they be telling the truth, at least about the arrow?

“Can we go now?” Lindsay sighed.

“We’re not finished,” I said. “Before you made a mess in the café last night, you said something about the Casabian sisters.”

“Yeah, so?” Lindsay said.

“So what do you know about them?” George asked.

“We know they’re not in River Heights anymore,” Darcy said.

“How do you know that?” Bess asked.

“They didn’t show up to speak at our camp, that’s how,” Darcy said. “Which was totally fine with us.”

“I’m not surprised you weren’t upset,” I said. “I understand that Mia called you guys . . . what was it?”

“Stalkers!” Ava said with a frown. “She called us stalkers just because we wanted to say hi once in a while.”

“Once in a while?” George snorted. “You mean more like several times a day.”

“They should be happy they have fans,” Lindsay shot back.

“Who cares about them anyway?” Darcy snorted. “We got even in a big way!”

“Shhhhhh!” Lindsay hissed at Darcy.

“Yeah, Darcy,” Ava said. “They don’t have to know about Mia’s sunglasses—”

Lindsay clapped her hand over Ava’s mouth.

“Sorry!” Ava mumbled through Lindsay’s hand.

“Look,” George said. “We know you have Mia’s sunglasses. What we want to know is, how did you get them?”

The three campers kept their mouths shut.

“You won’t be needing fancy shades at juvenile hall,” I said. “Which is where you’re going if you did anything to those sisters.”

“Juvenile hall?” Darcy said. “For stealing a pair of stupid sunglasses?”

“You
stole
Mia’s sunglasses?” I asked.

Lindsay groaned under her breath when she realized there was no turning back. “That’s how we got even,” she said. “After Mia dissed us, we went to the Three Bean Café—”

“You mean you stalked her?” Bess interrupted.

“Whatever!” Lindsay said, rolling her eyes. “We were just going to stick a nasty note on Mia’s back or write something on the bathroom wall about her.”

“Nice,”
George said sarcastically.

“Instead we saw her bag behind the counter,” Darcy said. “We knew it was Mia’s bag, because we saw her get her phone out of it.”

“What did you do?” I asked.

“While Mia was busy making a drink,” Darcy said, “Lindsay reached over into her bag and grabbed her sunglasses.”

“Then we ran out,” Lindsay said coolly. “I don’t think Mia even saw us in the place.”

“We really wanted her phone,” Ava said, her eyes shining. “Can you imagine all the celeb numbers she has on that?”

“The glasses are cool enough,” Darcy said. “Not only did we get payback, Lindsay got a pair of shades worn by a real live Casabian sister.”

“I’ll probably get a fortune for them on eBay,” Lindsay said. “If I decide to sell them.”

“Sell them?” Ava gasped.

“No way, Lindsay!” Darcy said. “At least wait until you go back to school, so you can make everybody jealous!”

“Time out!” George said. “Do you guys have any idea where Mia is now? Or her sisters?”

“Nope,” Lindsay said.

Ava nodded her head in agreement.

As irritating as the girls were, I had a hunch they were being truthful about Mia’s sunglasses and the missing sisters. But they had yet to answer my other question. The one regarding the snake . . .

“What were you guys doing this afternoon at about one o’clock?” I demanded.

The girls stared at me, obviously not expecting such a loaded question.

“We were at the movies,” Lindsay said with a shrug.

“Sneaking out again?” Bess asked.

“What are you, the camp police?” Lindsay said.

“Were you at the movies or at the river?” I asked.

“Why would we go to the fishy-smelly river when we could see
Friends of Summer
?” Darcy asked.

“You mean that blockbuster?” George asked.

“Yeah, and if you don’t believe us,” Ava said, “Lindsay is wearing the same hoodie she wore to the movies today. It smells like cheese fries, if you want to sniff it.”

“Ava, gross!” Lindsay said.

“Yeah, gross!” I agreed—until something clicked. The hoodie had pockets—and pockets at the movies usually contained ticket stubs.

“Show me your ticket stub,” I said, pointing to Lindsay’s pocket. “The one from the movie today.”

“If I still have it!” she said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a balled-up tissue, a pack of cinnamon gum, some disgusting lint—and a movie theater ticket stub.

“Bingo,” I said.

“Wow,” Lindsay said, putting it in my outstretched hand. “How did you know I still had this?”

“We’re lame detectives, remember?” I said.

Bess and George looked over my shoulder as I examined the ticket stub—which, no surprise, smelled like greasy cheese fries. It was for the movie
Friends of Summer
at twelve thirty p.m.

“All three of you went?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Ava said, rolling her eyes. “Would you like us to find our ticket stubs too?”

I handed Lindsay back the stub.

“No,” I said. “I have the proof I needed.”

When I looked at George, she didn’t seem totally convinced.

“You could have gotten the tickets as an alibi,” George told the girls. “Instead of going to the movies, you snuck down to the river, where you slipped the snake in Ned and Nancy’s kayak.”

“Snake?” Ava gasped. “Omigod—what about a snake?”

“Did Slithers escape?” Darcy asked. “If she did, I swear, I’m making my parents take me home. I would never even go near that slimy thing.”

I pretty much got that Lindsay, Darcy, and Ava had
not
put the snake in the kayak. I looked at Bess and George, who both gave me a nod. Darcy, Lindsay, and Ava might have been mean—but they were also clean.

“You can go,” I said. “Don’t even think of going out that gate or we’ll tell Amy.”

“As if she’d care,” Lindsay scoffed.

“Buh-bye!” Darcy said with a fake-friendly wave. “Make sure you watch out for the monster man of Camp Athena!”

“The monster man?” Bess said as the girls walked toward the bunks. “Don’t tell me they believe that stupid story too.”

When we returned to the tree, we found the arrow still lodged in the trunk. George was reaching to pull it out when—

“Look at the way the arrow is stuck in the tree,” Bess said. “Whoever shot at us shot from the woods.”

I gulped as I turned toward the dark, foreboding forest. “In that case . . . we’d better get out of here before someone tries again,” I said.

“Nancy, look!” Bess said. She pointed to what looked like a piece of paper taped around the shaft of the arrow.

Carefully I pulled the arrow from the tree, then unwrapped what looked like a note.

“What does it say?” George asked.

“‘You’re getting warmer,’” I read aloud.

“That’s the kind of stuff you say when you’re playing hide-and-seek,” Bess said. “Maybe somebody knows we’re
seeking
the sisters.”

“While they’re
hiding
them somewhere in this camp!” George added.

“The camp grounds are pretty big,” I said. “If somebody kidnapped the sisters, they could be keeping them anywhere.”

“With so many campers and counselors around?” George said. “Don’t you think someone would eventually hear or see something?”

I cast my eyes back to the woods. Was someone lurking somewhere among the trees? What else was in the woods beside trees and maybe bears?

“Well, the bunks from the old camp are in the woods where the arrow came from,” I said.

“So?” George said.

“So an old bunk in the woods could be the ideal place to hide a missing person,” I said. “Or
three
.”

A
s much as the thought of the dark, desolate woods scared me, I knew we had to search for the Casabians.

“We’ll need this in there,” Bess said, handing me the flashlight. “My hand will be shaking too much to hold it.”

I shone the light between thick trees as we crunched over twigs, acorns, and dead leaves. We stopped when we noticed several paths leading in different directions.

“Great,” George said. “Which way do we go now?”

“How about
out
?” Bess said.

As I turned with the flashlight, I spotted an old sign nailed to a tree. The paint was faded with age, but I was able to make out the words
CABINS 1–4
and the drawing of a finger pointed toward one of the paths.

“This way,” I said.

We walked fifteen feet or so when we reached a clearing. I hardly needed the flashlight, as the moon cast a glow on four bunks with sagging porches and cracked windows.

“Which one do we check out first?” I asked.

“That one,” George said, pointing to the last bunk in the row. “There’s a light inside that one.”

I saw it too—a low, flickering light.

“It could be Mandy, Mallory, and Mia!” Bess said hopefully.

“Or the creep who shot the arrow,” George said.

I took a deep breath and said, “We’ll never know unless we see for ourselves. Come on.”

We headed quietly toward the bunk to a side window, which was cobwebby and cracked. Slowly and carefully we raised our heads to peek inside. There was a candle burning on a small wooden table in the middle of the room.

“I can’t see much,” George complained. “Too many spiderwebs on the window—inside and out.”

“I think I see bunk beds against the wall,” Bess said. “The sisters could be lying on them.”

I moved closer to the window and saw the bunk beds too. Were Mandy, Mallory, and Mia lying on them? Were they tied up? Or drugged?

“We have to go inside,” I said.

“I was afraid you’d say that.” Bess sighed.

“We need a lookout,” George said. “Bess, since you don’t want to go inside, why don’t you stay out here on the porch?”

Bess looked out at the dark woods. “On the other hand,” she blurted, “it’s getting chilly out here. Why don’t I go inside with Nancy?”

We walked to the front of the bunk, and George planted herself at the edge of the porch. The door creaked as I opened it. Bess and I walked in, and the first thing we did was check out the bunk beds—empty. No Casabians.

“The sisters may not be in here,” Bess said, looking around. “But somebody’s made himself at home.”

Bess was right. Clothes were draped over chairs and papers were scattered on top of a cubby shelf. A stack of paper cups, a squeezed tube of toothpaste, and a brush stood on the sink in the bathroom. On the floor next to the sink was a plastic gallon jug of water.

“I wonder who’s here,” I said.

Bess pointed to a bunch of arrows leaning against the wall and joked, “It’s either our shooter—or Robin Hood.”

We walked throughout the bunk, looking for any clues on the mysterious inhabitant. I came up with an empty blue duffel bag, but it had no ID tag. Underneath the clothing on the chair I found a small plastic bag with first aid supplies—a roll of bandages, a tube of antibacterial ointment, cotton balls, and a plastic bottle of alcohol.

The receipt I found inside the bag told me the supplies had been bought at Hanson’s Drugs a few days ago.

“It looks like whoever’s staying here was hurt,” I said.

“I think I found something too,” Bess said.

I walked over to Bess at the cubby shelf. She pulled a folder with faded newspaper clippings from the pile of papers and opened it up.

“It looks like an old article,” she said. “Go get the candle so we can see what it says.”

I grabbed what was left of the candle and held it over the article.

“It looks like a wedding announcement,” I said. “From about ten years ago.”

“Who’s the happy couple?” Bess asked.

“Good question.” I moved the candle over the faded photograph of the bride and groom, and Bess grabbed my arm.

I stared at the photograph of the beaming couple. Grinning in a dark tuxedo and bow tie was the crazy cult leader and bane of our existence.

“It’s Roland!” I said.