The Sign in the Smoke (Nancy Drew Diaries Book 12) (11 page)

It was a few minutes before I realized how off my Harper theory was.

Because suddenly, with Harper paddling around just feet away, Nina started screaming.

“It has me! Something has my leg!” she screeched, before suddenly she was jerked downward and her head disappeared below water.

Cece and I both leaped to our feet. Sandy jumped up and dove into the water. I looked around, counting the other girls’ heads in the lake, and was relieved to find them all accounted for, except Nina.

It was probably only seconds before Sandy and Nina reappeared, but it felt like hours. And when Nina resurfaced, she was still screaming.

“Auuuugh! It had me! Didn’t you see it?”

“Calm down,” Sandy insisted. “Nina, calm down and breathe. You’re okay now.”

“
I’m not
okay!” Nina insisted, shaking her head wildly. “Didn’t you see it?! Sandy?” She sucked in a breath, then went on:

“It was human, Sandy. I could see its shape.” She shuddered. “And its long, silvery-white hair.”

This time Sandy pulled everyone out of the lake. Deborah was called. She appeared with her mouth drawn into a tight line, surveying the area like she was looking at a crime scene.

“All right,” she said finally. “Juniper Cabin, I want you to move on to your next scheduled activity. I’m glad you’re all okay. We’ll talk about this later.”

I shook my head. “Deborah,” I said quietly, “I think the girls are kind of wound up. As am I,” I added, with a nervous laugh.

She cut her eyes at me, no trace of humor in her expression. “And sitting around ruminating on it isn’t going to calm them down at all,” she insisted. “Take them to the crafts barn. Making something can be very relaxing.”

Sandy raised her eyebrows at me. I opened my mouth to argue, but then stopped myself. Clearly Deborah wasn’t going to budge. So I ran over to Maya, who’d spent swimming period writing letters home in the cabin, and asked her to take the girls to the cabin to change, then to the crafts barn while I spoke to Deborah.

“No problem,” Maya said. Her usual cheery demeanor had been replaced by serious efficiency. “Catch up with us when you can, okay?” She led the girls down the path toward the cabins.

When they were gone, I turned back to Deborah. She was watching the lake with an unreadable expression. Then, suddenly, she dropped her head into her hands and groaned.

“Deborah,” I said, feeling like I was eavesdropping.

She lifted her head. “Nancy? Why aren’t you with your bunk?”

I sighed, moving forward. “I asked Maya to look after them for a few minutes. I’m worried about what’s going on at Camp Cedarbark,” I said honestly.

Deborah shook her head dismissively. “It’s not a ghost, if that’s what you’re getting at,” she said, sounding a little annoyed.

“I know it’s not a ghost,” I said, adding silently,
Or at least I think it’s not.
“But I saw a figure when I was pulled under the water too. What’s going on?”

She pursed her lips and sighed. “The plants?” she said finally.

“I thought you had someone remove all the plants,” Sandy said. She was standing on the other side of Deborah with her arms folded.

“She did,” I agreed. “I thought the plants were removed the day the CITs arrived,” I added.

Deborah shrugged. “Maybe there are still more? I don’t know.
I don’t know.
”

“Nina was quite insistent that she saw
a figure
,” Sandy said.

Deborah sighed again, then rolled her eyes. “How would that work?” she asked. “Someone is holding their breath under there? Someone has gills?’

“I don’t know. I’m just telling you what she said,” Sandy retorted.

Deborah turned to her, softening her expression. “You’re a lifeguard. If someone wanted to hang out under the water, not being seen by anyone, and pull someone down—is that possible?”

Sandy seemed to think for a moment, then bit her lip. “It is—well—
unlikely
,” she murmured.

Deborah moaned again, rubbing her hand over her face. “We spent a lot of money on this camp,” she said quietly. “I can’t shut down the lake. I need this summer to be a success.”

“Deborah, if there is a
figure
in the water pulling people down,” I said, “it’s probably the same person who stole all the sleeping bags and threw them in the lake. What if someone is trying to sabotage Camp Cedarbark? To keep you from being successful, for some reason?”

Deborah frowned at me. She looked honestly confused. “Why would someone do that?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, “but I’m kind of an amateur detective, and I plan to find out.”

THE NEXT MORNING WE WERE
woken up to the sound of rain pouring down on the cabin’s roof. Outside, the ground had been soaked to mud, and tiny lakes and rivers had formed all over the clearing in the middle of the cabins.

Cece groaned. “I was looking forward to the soccer game today,” she said as she pulled a pair of jeans and a T-shirt out from her dresser.

“Maybe it will happen anyway, rain or shine,” suggested Winnie.

“I don’t think so,” Maya replied, staring out the window. “I think you’d need a pair of flippers to play in this! And maybe gills.”

Gills
made me think of what had happened at the lake yesterday, and a little shiver ran up my spine. As of today, I was officially on the case. And I meant to figure out who—or what—was responsible for first Deborah, then me and two of my campers being pulled underwater.

When we went to the mess hall for breakfast, Miles announced that after we were done eating, the campers would divide into two groups and spend the morning watching a DVD. My group, along with Bella’s eleven-year-olds, would stay in the mess hall. The other kids would run next door to the crafts barn.

“Aw, man,” Cece grumped.

“It’s supposed to clear up this afternoon,” I said, trying to sound cheerful. “Maybe we can fit the soccer game in then.”

Cece looked dubious, but after a second or two she shrugged and finished her eggs.

Meanwhile, I was sensing an opportunity to get some information. If everyone was going to be cooped up in the mess hall, that might give me a chance to talk to Deborah and Miles about everything they knew.

All I needed was a favor from another counselor. Unfortunately for me . . . the only group that was supposed to stay in the mess hall besides mine was Bella’s.

I excused myself and strolled over to her table once I’d gobbled up my eggs and toast. “Hey, Bella,” I said casually as I drew up behind her chair.

She turned, looked at me, and glared. “Oh, it’s you,” she said, clearly unimpressed. “One of the Perfect Triplets. Well, what’s up? Have I violated the spirit of the camp somehow by wearing a not-cheerful-enough shirt?” She gestured down at her T-shirt, which was for some metal band called Eminent Distress.

“Um, no. I actually wanted to ask you a favor. I could pay you back any time.”

Bella narrowed her eyes. “Why would I do
you
a favor?” she asked.

“Because we’re both counselors?” I asked. “Because if you do, maybe I could watch your bunk sometime to give you a break? I mean, that might be nice.”

Bella looked from me to her campers, who were all crowded around one girl’s chair. The girl was holding up a letter she’d received and giggling. “Okay,” she said. “I’m listening.”

“I’d just need you to keep an eye on my bunk this morning,” I said. “It shouldn’t be hard. Maya will be there, and they’re all just watching a DVD.”

Bella frowned. “And what will you be doing while I watch them?” she asked.

“Research,” I said tersely. When Bella kept staring at me and I didn’t elaborate, she seemed to get the hint that I wasn’t going to say more.

“All right,” she said finally. “But you owe me!”

“Noted,” I said before quickly spinning around and spotting Miles, who was setting up a movie screen in front of the stage. I darted away from Bella’s table and walked briskly over to him.

“Miles,” I said, and when he turned, looking confused, I went on, “I was just wondering whether it’s okay if Bella looks after my campers this morning. She says it’s fine with her.”

Miles raised his eyebrows. “While they watch the movie? Sure. But what will
you
be doing?”

“Weeeeeeell,” I said, drawing out the word as I tilted my head, “I thought maybe I could talk to you and Deborah about what happened at the lake before Camp Larksong closed. Privately, of course,” I added hastily.

Miles’s expression changed suddenly, from mildly curious to completely closed off. “Oh,” he said, turning back to the movie screen. “Deborah told me you’re some kind of amateur detective. Is that right?”

“Yes,” I said. “But mostly, I just want to help you guys get to the bottom of what’s going on at this camp.”

Miles turned back to me, wearing an expression of surprise. “What
is
going on at the camp?” he asked. “Besides some silly pranks and an issue with reeds in the lake?”

“I—well—” I stammered, wondering if Miles was serious. “I thought you had the lake trimmed of reeds,” I said. “And the girls who were pulled under—they said they saw a figure.”

Miles snorted. “Including you, isn’t that right?” he asked.

I nodded slowly, feeling like I’d been caught somehow. But I
had
seen a figure. . . . “Including me.”

Miles turned away, fiddling with the screen again. “It’s fine with me if you want to chat with Deborah,” he said. “She’s in the office. But I don’t think I have any information that can help you. I’m not convinced there’s a mystery to solve, Miss Nancy Drew.”

I wasn’t sure how to react. I’d gotten what I wanted—hadn’t I? But why was Miles being so strange?

“Thanks,” I said simply, and after saying a quick good-bye to Maya and my campers, I ducked out into the rain and ran across the clearing to the camp office.

It occurred to me as I ran how absent Miles had been from many of the camp activities. He always showed up for campfires, and was usually there for meals, but most of the day-to-day running-the-camp responsibilities seemed to be handled by Deborah.
She
was the one who had gone to Camp Larksong, I remembered.
She
presumably had wanted to buy the camp and reopen it.

Was it possible that Miles didn’t want me looking into the “mystery” . . . because he had something to hide?

I pushed the thought from my mind as I knocked lightly on the screen door and then pushed it open. The camp office was on the lower floor of the modest two-story house on camp grounds where Deborah and Miles lived. When I walked in, Deborah was sitting at her desk, staring into a computer monitor. She looked a little surprised when she glanced up and saw me, but she soon gave me a little wave of welcome.

“Hi, Nancy,” she said. “Where are your campers?”

“Bella’s watching them for me,” I replied. “You know, they’re in the mess hall watching a DVD anyway. I thought maybe . . . Maybe this would be a good time for the two of us to talk more?”

Deborah took that in, looking at me with a not-entirely-eager expression. “Okay,” she said.

“I told Miles I could talk to both of you,” I went on, “but he seemed sort of convinced that, um . . .”

“ ‘There’s no mystery to solve,’ ” Deborah filled in, making her voice deep and goofy—clearly her impression of Miles.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

Deborah gave a little rueful smile and pushed her chair back from the desk. “It’s not personal, Nancy,” she said, giving me a kind look. “Miles is a pragmatic guy. He’s not going to believe there’s something going on unless it’s
really
obvious.”

A question suddenly occurred to me. “Do
you
think there’s a mystery to solve?” I asked.

Deborah paused, looking thoughtful. “I think a lot of strange things have been happening,” she said quietly. “Unsettling things. In a weird way, it would make me feel better if one person were behind them.”

At least it’s not just me, then.
There was a chair on my side of the desk facing Deborah, and I sat down in it. “Can you tell me more about what happened that night in the lake at Camp Larksong?” I asked. “It seems like—for whatever reason—all the strange things that have happened seem to lead back to the lake.”