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Secret at Mystic Lake

Page 8

by Carolyn Keene


  So Dagger really had nothing to do with it—he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  I was silent, my mind reeling. Something was still nagging at me. “Did you and Henry really fight right before you disappeared?” I asked. “Something about a text message?”

  “Ah, the text message fight!” Caitlin said with a laugh. “Yeah. I may have neglected to mention—as if I didn’t have enough ammunition to set this whole plan in motion—about two weeks before we left, I intercepted a text message to Henry talking about the insane amount of debt he’s racked up gambling.”

  “Gambling?” I asked.

  “Betting on horses at the racetrack.” Caitlin nodded. “He owes like, five or six grand at this point. So stupid. Anyway, I purposely picked a fight with him before I took off. We both woke up early that morning, and I wanted someone to hear us arguing, to place more suspicion on him. But when I tried to yell at him about this text message, the blockhead barely responded. He yelled back a couple of times and then was like, ‘Whatever, Cait.’ ” She paused, fuming. “Can you believe that?” she asked. “I mean, he’s too lazy to fight properly.”

  I nodded. It was all coming together in my head, forming into a clearer picture. Dagger had heard them fighting—but Henry probably felt guilty about his gambling debts, which might be why he’d yelled at Dagger for bringing it up.

  Henry really had nothing to do with Caitlin’s disappearance, or the other sabotage of the tour. He was guilty only of being a lazy, somewhat troublemaking brother.

  And Dagger had nothing to do with any of this. He only had the misfortune of having changed his name, liking early morning meditation, and carrying a hunting knife.

  Now I became dimly aware of both Zoe and Caitlin staring at me.

  “It was the perfect plan,” Zoe said.

  Caitlin nodded. “The only problem,” she added, not taking her eyes off me, “was you.”

  “Me?” I asked.

  Caitlin nodded again. “You wouldn’t shut up. You kept asking questions. Who did this, who did that, did you really see this, what about this.” She scowled. “You were kind of going in circles so far, true, but sooner or later you were going to figure this out.” She looked at me with what seemed like grudging admiration. “I’m an overachiever too—I know the type,” she said.

  I swallowed, not sure what to say. “Thanks?”

  Zoe nodded. “Before Cait took off, she left me a little present. A satellite phone of my very own. This allowed me to get in touch with her if anything came up. So today, when we stopped by the stream, I went into the woods and called her. I told her you were asking too many questions; something had to be done. We decided to grab you tonight.”

  Caitlin tilted her head to the side. “Unfortunately, you were a much faster runner than we thought,” she said with a sigh. “And once you got to that canoe out on the lake, we knew it was just a matter of time till you found my little hideout here.”

  I shook my head. “But wait—I heard Henry saying ‘Gotcha’ right after you screamed, Zoe,” I pointed out. “Where did that come from? And why?”

  Caitlin smirked. “Show her, Zoe,” she said, gesturing to Zoe’s pocket.

  With a smug grin, Zoe pulled out her smartphone and clicked on the music icon. Then she selected an MP3 and hit play.

  “Gotcha, sis! April Fool’s! Ha-ha, you have to admit, that was a good one.” Henry.

  Caitlin giggled. “It’s amazing what you can get someone saying when you record their conversations with you for, like, three months. I knew it would come in handy sometime.”

  My head was still spinning. “But why?” I asked. “If you were just getting me out of the way . . .”

  “Our plan was to conk you over the head with a rock and drag you to the shed outside before you woke up,” Caitlin explained.

  I stared at her, waiting for some sign that she was kidding, but she gave none.

  “We’d keep you here until I was ready to give myself up. But just in case you got loose, we figured it was a good idea for you to think that Henry was behind the whole thing. You know, in case you made it to the ranger station.”

  “Speaking of which . . .” Zoe reached back for something leaning against the coffee table, then held it up. It was a huge, rusty shovel. “We should probably go ahead and introduce you to your home away from home for the next few days.” She raised the shovel menacingly.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Desperate

  “WHAT DO YOU MEAN?” I asked, shrinking back. What would these girls do to me? I wondered. Would they really hurt me?

  Caitlin took in a deep breath through her nose. “I’m not quite ready for the game to be over,” she said. “This is supposed to be my vacation by the lake, and as you can see, I still have a bunch of books to get through.” She gestured to the coffee table, where, indeed, about five or six romance paperbacks were piled up. “We’re borrowing this cabin without the owner’s knowledge, but we found a shed out there that has no windows and a padlock on the door—it seems like a pretty good place to keep a nosy wannabe detective.”

  I shook my head. “Come on, guys,” I said, trying to paste on my most we’re-all-friends-here type smile. “You don’t have to lock me up! I mean, you hit the nail on the head, Caitlin—I’m a total overachiever, just like you. I could sooo use some time by the lake myself. I get what you’re doing now, really, and I wouldn’t tell anybody.”

  Caitlin glanced at Zoe, who shook her head. Caitlin smirked. “That’s cool, Drama Club,” she said, gesturing to the shovel. Zoe again raised it in the air. I instinctively backed away. “But I’m not quite convinced by your performance.”

  I swallowed hard. A plan was taking shape in the back of my mind, but I cowered down and made my voice high and desperate. “Please, guys,” I said, “don’t make me—”

  The girls swooped down on me, each grabbing me by an arm, and dragged me toward the door of the cabin. Zoe was holding the shovel in her other hand, and when we reached the porch, I was able to twist my right hand out of her grasp and reach up to pinch her armpit—hard. She dropped the shovel on her foot, letting out a shrill cry, and Caitlin loosened her grip just enough for me to pull away.

  I ran off the porch, down the path to the lake, and out onto the dock.

  By the time I dove in and started swimming for the canoe, they were following me, but neither one was brave enough to dive in after me. I grabbed the canoe from where it had drifted about fifty feet out into the lake and pulled myself up and in. Then I grabbed the paddle and started paddling.

  Just like before. Don’t think, just paddle.

  I went as fast as my arms could carry me.

  Caitlin and Zoe dragged a rowboat down from the bank of the lake and climbed in, but luckily, I had a big head start. Out on the lake, it took me a minute to get my bearings, but I soon recognized the direction I’d come from by the pattern of the trees and the angle of the moon—as I got closer, I could see the stream I’d waded through to get to the lake. I paddled back to the dock and jumped out, hoping that the canoe’s owners wouldn’t mind that I hadn’t bothered to tie the thing up. Terrified, I quickly glanced behind me, and, sure enough, Zoe and Caitlin were rowing furiously, getting closer and closer to the dock.

  I splashed through the stream until I thought I was in the area we’d camped, and then just started screaming. “BESS! GEORGE!” I splashed up and down the bank of the stream, peeping through the trees, trying to find any sign of life. “BESS! GEORGE!”

  When I’d been yelling for about two minutes, I heard Bess’s voice.

  “Nancy! Is that you?”

  They came crashing through the woods. I ran to them like a starving man to a drumstick and threw my arms around them, letting out a moan of relief.

  “Are you okay?” George asked, grabbing my face and looking into my eyes. “We heard Zoe scream. We heard her tell you to run. We were scared as anything, but then nothing happened. No one came after us. We heard footsteps all ar
ound. After a few minutes we got up and started looking for you. But there was no sign anywhere.”

  “It’s a long story,” I said, glancing back in the direction I’d come. Caitlin and Zoe would be at the dock soon, if they weren’t by now. We didn’t have a lot of time.

  “Guys,” I said to my friends, not for the first time, and probably not for the last, “we have to run!”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The Truth Comes Out

  “OH MY GOSH,” BESS WHISPERED, staggering over a tree root and nearly falling over. “I can’t believe we’re still in these woods. I can’t believe we’re not back in River Heights by now. How far have we come?”

  I inhaled a deep breath. It was morning. We’d been running, and then hiking, through the woods ever since I’d found my friends who knew how many hours before.

  “We’ve probably walked a few miles,” I said. “The problem is, we don’t have any idea where we are, or where we’re going. So we’re probably walking in circles.”

  “I’m so hungry,” George moaned. “I haven’t even seen any blackberries in this part of the woods. I’m about to eat some bark.”

  “Don’t do it,” I said. “It would play into Caitlin’s plan if we ended up poisoning ourselves out here.”

  George grunted her assent.

  I’d explained everything that had happened to me since I’d left the tent the night before. Zoe’s scream, hearing Henry’s voice, and then being chased through the woods down to the canoe, as well as the whole confrontation with Zoe and Caitlin.

  “I just can’t believe Zoe was behind this whole thing,” Bess mused. “She was a good actress. She complained about every setback—but meanwhile she had helped plan them all.”

  “Kind of nervy of her to bring the extra tent,” George said, “when you think about it.”

  I nodded. “I don’t think Caitlin or Zoe thought they’d ever get caught,” I said. “I get the feeling Caitlin’s so used to making everything go perfectly, she thought she’d get away with this, too.”

  “Poor Henry.” Bess sighed. “I guess it’s a good thing I don’t have a twin who’s my opposite and who I kind of hate.”

  George shot her a sidelong glance. “Yeah, it’s probably good we’re cousins, not siblings.”

  Bess gave her a rueful smile.

  That’s when I heard something. A rumble, so familiar and yet so . . .

  “A car!” I yelled, trying to track the direction it was coming from. “To the right there. Do you hear it? Just through those trees . . .”

  Bess’s expression looked like I’d just told her there was a million dollars on the ground, ripe for the taking. “What are we waiting for? Run!”

  We ran. I’m not sure I had ever moved that fast before, or that I’ll ever move that fast again. We shot through the trees and came out onto a narrow two-lane road. I could just see the taillights of a Jeep retreating into the cool dawn mist.

  “WAIT!” I screamed, my feet slapping on the pavement as I ran after it. “WAIT! We need help! PLEASE!”

  The Jeep had nearly disappeared around the bend. I felt hope dying in my heart. But then, at the last moment, it stopped and a moment later the passenger door opened up and a curious face popped out.

  “Girls?”

  “Dagger!” George cried, running at him.

  The driver’s-side door opened up to reveal an older man wearing a park ranger uniform. “Are you part of the bike tour group that split up yesterday?” he asked me, looking stern.

  “We are,” I said.

  He nodded, glancing at Dagger. “Well, I have a lot of questions for you.”

  “Good,” I said cheerfully. “I hope you have sandwiches, too.”

  It turned out that Henry and Dagger had found the ranger station in the middle of the night, but when they’d led the rangers back to our campsite, they’d found the empty sleeping bags and known something was wrong. After we’d told him the whole sordid story, the park ranger took us to the local police station a few miles outside Mystic Lake Park and said he was bringing together some rangers to look for Caitlin and Zoe. By that time, George and Bess and I had gobbled up some bagels ordered for us by the officers and were relaxing in a room with Henry and Dagger.

  Dagger had, surprisingly, taken the news of Caitlin’s faked disappearance in stride. “She’s clearly out of balance, mentally,” he said mildly.

  Henry, on the other hand, was sitting alone in a chair by the wall, his head in his hands, looking utterly stricken.

  “I knew we had our differences,” he’d said a few minutes ago, speaking to the whole room, I guess. “I knew she thought I was lazy. But this is just insane. This is just . . . insane.”

  He’d admitted that he had some pretty serious gambling debts, and that that was why he’d denied fighting with Caitlin before she disappeared. He hadn’t wanted to reveal to the rest of the group what he was really up to.

  As we waited for our parents to show, the cops brought Henry back to ask him some more questions. “They’ve found Caitlin and Zoe,” the young officer who came for Henry told the rest of us. “They were hiking along the road a few miles from the cabin you described. Some officers are bringing them in for questioning.”

  My stomach dropped a little. I didn’t really want to look at Caitlin and Zoe as they were brought into the police station, knowing that I’d foiled their crazy plan. Actually, I wanted to be done with this whole chapter of my life. I wanted to go home, see my dad, take a bath, put on clean pj’s, eat a bowl of our housekeeper Hannah’s amazing fettuccine alfredo, call my boyfriend, Ned, and then collapse into my own bed.

  And sleep for three days.

  And never go camping again.

  Before I could even express my thoughts to Bess and George, the Faynes pushed open the door to the little room we were being held in, followed by another officer.

  “So we can take them, correct?” Mr. Fayne was asking. “These girls are free to go?”

  “Yes, sir,” the officer said with a nod.

  “Oh, muffin,” Mrs. Fayne cried, running straight for George. “Are you okay?”

  George hugged her mom back hard. “I’m fine, Mom. Tired. And a little freaked out. But fine. I guess maybe a gift card would have been a better birthday present, huh?” she joked feebly.

  But Mrs. Fayne shook her head. “Not at all, honey,” she said. “I’m so sorry for you, for the way this turned out. But you’re a responsible girl. This wasn’t your fault.”

  George looked at her mom and beamed. They hugged again, and Mr. Fayne suggested, “Let’s get out of here. If any happening ever called for pancakes, this is it.”

  I couldn’t have agreed more. We said our goodbyes to Dagger and were on our way.

  “Omigosh, pancakes,” Bess moaned an hour later, as we gobbled up our breakfast. “Food of the gods. Seriously, George, why would you ever want to go camping or anywhere they don’t have pancakes?”

  George shot her cousin an annoyed look, but she soon dissolved into a smile. “Well . . . let’s just say I’m done with camping for a little while. Maybe not forever. But I’m going to take a break.”

  I grinned at her over my orange juice. “No camping trip for your birthday next year, George?”

  She shook her head. “Definitely not.”

  Bess raised a hand like she was in school. “Can I make a suggestion for your birthday celebration next year?” she asked.

  George shot her a sideways look. “I guess . . .”

  Bess grinned. “Slumber party?”

  I giggled. After a moment, George chimed in too.

  “Only if you’ll both be there,” she said with a chuckle.

  We both grinned. I nodded. “Deal!”

  Dear Diary,

  * * *

  * * *

  * * *

  SO THERE YOU HAVE IT: A PERFECTIONIST pushed too far! Who knows what Caitlin would have done in order to get her little “vacation” in the woods? I’m just glad we figured out her plan before
she did some real damage, not only to us, but to her brother’s reputation.

  And thank goodness Bess and George were there. Because in the end, there aren’t many people I’d want to get stuck in the woods with besides my two best friends.

  * * *

  * * *

  Carolyn Keene is the bestselling author of the popular Nancy Drew series of books.

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  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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  First Aladdin paperback edition May 2014

  Text copyright © 2014 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  Cover illustration copyright © 2014 by Erin McGuire

  Jacket designed by Karin Paprocki

 

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