by Shari Barr
The girls followed the older man across the yard. The statue they had seen from the lake stood in a flowerbed surrounded by roses and lilies. A woodcrafted fairy with a delicate face and a flowing skirt held a flower on her hand. Beside it, an identical fairy knelt with a butterfly poised on her finger.
McKenzie knelt beside the statue and pushed aside the foliage to see the carving on the base. “The initials are here,” she said, tracing her finger over the letters. “Reggie Ford carved this.”
“I bought another carving at the same time I got this one. Over here.” Mr. Landers motioned for the girls to follow him across the yard. “My wife wanted to start a fairy garden, so we bought this small statue of twin fairies for our granddaughter when she comes to visit.”
McKenzie knelt beside the statue sitting in the middle of a flowerbed. Surrounding it were colorful pebbles and miniature pink and yellow rose bushes. The initials SS were clearly visible on the base of that statue too.
Sydney peered over McKenzie’s shoulder then turned to the man. “Do you know where his shop was located?”
He thought for a moment. “He was way back in the hills somewhere. I found the place by accident one day. He doesn’t advertise, but he had the prettiest woodworking crafts I’ve ever seen. I don’t know if I could find the place again or not.”
“Do you have his phone number?” McKenzie asked, feeling hopeful.
Mr. Landers shook his head. “It’s been such a long time ago. Is it important that you find him?”
McKenzie nodded and made her way across the yard to Jasmine. “His niece is looking for him. She hasn’t seen him in years.”
He looked thoughtfully at McKenzie. “I wish I could help you.”
McKenzie pulled herself into the saddle and tugged Sydney on behind her. “Thank you anyway.”
Sydney echoed her thanks. McKenzie flicked Jasmine’s reins and headed back up the lane. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the older man still standing near the lane, watching them.
“Well, this trip didn’t do any good,” Sydney said sullenly. “How are we ever going to find Shara’s uncle?”
McKenzie sat silently in the saddle, not knowing how to answer. The horse and riders plodded along, approaching the bridge with a shallow, narrow stream trickling beneath it. She moved to the side of the road to let a car pass. “I’d better let Jasmine drink before we head back. It’s pretty warm out here for her.”
McKenzie guided the horse down the bank. Sydney clutched her arms tightly about her waist as Jasmine staggered around the large rocks to the stream. By the time the horse finished drinking, the sun was sinking low in the western sky. McKenzie headed back up the bank to the road. They turned at the intersection and headed toward the Taylors’.
Soon they approached a dilapidated house with a rusty tin roof sitting in the middle of a yard full of weeds. A shed, nearly collapsed, sat beyond it.
“I don’t remember this shack,” Sydney said.
McKenzie looked at the old homestead. “Me neither. This is the way we came, isn’t it?”
“I thought so,” Sydney said. “But I guess I didn’t pay a lot of attention earlier.”
McKenzie flicked the reins, urging Jasmine up the hill. “We’ll be able to see where we are once we get to the top.”
Once they arrived at the crest of the hill, McKenzie tugged on Jasmine’s reins, pulling her to a stop. She glanced at the winding road below her, disappearing behind a stand of trees. She saw no homes or lights anywhere. I don’t recognize any of this, McKenzie thought.
“Uh-oh,” she stammered, a hint of worry in her voice. “Sydney, I think we’re lost!”
“What do we do now?” Sydney asked, her voice trembling.
A Stranger in the Dark
McKenzie glanced about the hilltop, puzzled. She was used to country roads, so how had she managed to get lost?
“Why don’t we turn around and go back? Then we’ll go a different way at the intersection,” McKenzie said, tugging the reins to turn Jasmine around.
They plodded past the run-down shack and arrived at the intersection. The sun, a large orange ball, hung low in the sky, only minutes away from sinking below the horizon.
“It’s almost sunset,” Sydney said. “We’re supposed to be back at the Taylors’ house.”
“I know,” McKenzie said, swatting a mosquito buzzing around her head. “I don’t have their phone number, but I can call Miss Val and tell her what’s going on.”
McKenzie pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and clicked on Miss Val’s name. “Oh, no,” she groaned. “There’s no signal. There must be too many hills.”
“Great,” Sydney muttered. “How will we get back now?”
McKenzie glanced around, looking for some familiar landmarks. Cattle grazed in a pasture to the left of the road. She was sure they hadn’t passed the herd earlier, or she would have remembered.
Where is the sign leading to Clyde’s Woodcrafting Shop? she wondered. If I can find it, we can use their phone to call Miss Val or the Taylors.
McKenzie pressed her thighs against Jasmine’s sides, flicking the reins as she guided Jasmine onward. “I must have turned too soon. I’ll go to the next intersection and see if it looks familiar.”
The sun dropped below the horizon, engulfing the hills in gloom. The horse plodded up the next hill, following the curving road. Shadows deepened as darkness fell, and buzzing mosquitoes dive-bombed into McKenzie’s face. She slapped them away, one after another.
“Reee-eeeer, reee-eeeer!” sang a choir of locusts in the treetops. Frogs croaked their noisy song, and an owl hooted nearby.
“Aarrr, aarrr, aaarrr, AAARRRR!” A cry sliced through the dusk from far away in the hills.
“Wh–wh–what was that?” Sydney stammered, throwing her arms around McKenzie’s waist as she slid closer.
“It’s just a coyote. He won’t hurt you,” McKenzie assured Sydney. Though she’d heard coyotes thousands of times on her family’s farm, they still gave her the creeps. Especially out here when it was almost dark and they were lost.
She shivered despite the heat. This is the first time I’ve ever had sweat dripping off my goose bumps, she thought. She couldn’t help feeling a little ashamed that she was scared.
“Isn’t there any traffic out here?” Sydney asked nervously. “We’ve only seen one car.”
“Country roads don’t have a lot of traffic. It’s like this in Montana too.” McKenzie glanced at the road beneath her. “But something is definitely not right. A road sign ahead says the gravel ends. That means this is turning into a dirt road, and we didn’t go on a dirt road earlier. We’re more lost than before.”
Sydney moaned. “I’ll try Miss Val on my phone. Maybe we’ll get a signal now.” Sydney pulled her phone from her pocket, and after looking at it, she muttered, “Still nothing!”
McKenzie urged Jasmine up the dirt road. Lightning bugs flitted in the grass and in the woods, looking like millions of tiny flashing Christmas lights. Before long it would be too dark to see where they were going.
God, please let us find the Taylors’ house, McKenzie prayed silently.
Jasmine snorted and reared at a rabbit darting across the road in front of them, but McKenzie tugged firmly on the reins. The horse calmed down and trotted, stirring up little puffs of dust with her hooves.
“Surely we’ll come to a house before long when this lane meets a main road,” McKenzie said, trying to convince herself they weren’t really lost.
A rumble behind them made her move to the side of the road and pull back on Jasmine’s reins. She stopped and turned toward a glow rising from the hill behind them. Seconds later, headlights popped over the crest. Oh, thank You, God. Maybe these people will stop and help.
A white pickup truck slowly approached, pulling up beside them. It slowed to a stop, and the window rolled down.
“There you are,” a familiar voice cried out. “We’ve been looking all over for you.”
“
Oh Miss Val,” McKenzie said, feeling the tension flee from her body. “Are we ever glad to see you! We got lost and have no idea where we are!”
Mr. Taylor hopped out of the driver’s seat and walked over to them. “I’m sorry, girls. This is my fault. I didn’t give you enough directions to find your way back. You actually aren’t far from our place, so why don’t you two hop off? It’s getting awfully dark, so I’ll ride Jasmine, and you can ride in the truck with Miss Val.”
McKenzie sighed with relief as she slid from the saddle. Miss Val scooted into the driver’s seat, and the girls climbed in front beside her.
“Thank you, Mr. Taylor,” McKenzie said through the open window.
“No problem,” he said with a smile as he climbed onto Jasmine’s back. “No harm’s done; I know these roads well. It didn’t take but a few minutes to find you.”
“Were you girls starting to get scared? I know I would have been,” Miss Val said, putting the pickup in gear.
“Not me!” McKenzie said.
“Me neither,” Sydney replied.
Both girls glanced at each other and burst out laughing.
“Well, maybe we were scared,” McKenzie said. “Just a little.”
A few minutes later, Miss Val pulled into the driveway as Mrs. Taylor came out of the house. After making sure the girls were okay, she loaded them up with homemade chocolate chip cookies and lemonade. “To make up for all the trouble,” she said, settling into the porch swing beside Miss Val.
The girls waited on the front porch with the women until Mr. Taylor returned with Jasmine.
“Did you find the place you were looking for?” Mr. Taylor asked after putting the horse in the barn.
“Yes, but the man didn’t know who carved the statue.” McKenzie reached over to pet a hound dog that had come to sit at her side.
“Well, there are a lot of woodcarvers around here, and it’s hard to keep them all straight,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.
McKenzie swallowed her last bite of cookie and drained her glass of lemonade. Now that she and Sydney were safely back at the Taylors’, disappointment overcame her. They had found another piece of Mr. Ford’s work, yet no one seemed to know where he lived. Why was this man so mysterious? How could he run a business if he didn’t advertise? she thought.
When Miss Val and the Taylors finished visiting, the girls climbed back into Miss Val’s car, and the three headed for home.
“How was your supper?” McKenzie had almost forgotten about Miss Val’s evening plans. “Did you ask your friend about Mr. Ford?”
“The food was great, and yes, I asked Libby about Mr. Ford. She doesn’t know anyone with the last name of Ford, but she has heard people speak of the Shara Smiles man. She has never met him and doesn’t know where his business is located. Everybody simply refers to him as that quiet woodcarver who keeps to himself.” Miss Val parked the car in the driveway at her house.
McKenzie sighed. “Nobody knows him, but we see his crafts all through Branson. That’s kind of strange.”
Miss Val nodded as they walked to the front door. “Mr. Ford is doing an awfully good job of preventing his family from finding him. He must really have some hurt feelings.”
“I don’t think we’re ever going to find him.” For the first time, McKenzie felt the case was hopeless.
Miss Val unlocked the door and ushered the girls inside. She flipped a table light on and turned to the girls. “I want you to find this man, and I think God does too. It sounds to me like the entire family needs to forgive each other. You’ve come this far in solving the mystery; don’t give up now. That family needs you.”
McKenzie nodded. Shara had become a good friend, and McKenzie wanted to help her family. She thought of the mysteries the Camp Club Girls had solved together. God had brought Shara and her together for a reason, and McKenzie knew she couldn’t quit now.
Miss Val asked, “Do you girls still want to camp out tonight?”
“Sure. Where should we pitch our tent?” McKenzie asked.
Miss Val answered, “I know the perfect spot. There’s a fire pit down by the creek where you could set up your tent on the bank and have a campfire. How does that sound?”
“Ooh, that sounds great!” McKenzie looked eagerly at Sydney. “But can we chat with the Camp Club Girls for a couple of minutes before we leave? We want to fill them in on our investigation.”
“Sure,” Miss Val agreed. “I’ll pack a cooler while you chat, and then we’ll load up the SUV, and I’ll drive you down to the creek.”
The girls hurried to the computer while Miss Val brought a large cooler in from the garage and began filling it with ice and goodies. The girls logged on to the Camp Club Girls chat room.
“Everybody’s here except Kate. It’s late in Philadelphia, so she’s probably already in bed.” McKenzie looked at the clock.
Bailey: Where have you been? Thought maybe you forgot about us.
Sydney: We’ve been out looking for the statue we saw while out on the lake the other day, and we found it in some man’s yard! Actually the statue is two fairies instead of one. It’s a set of carved twins. We even saw the initials on the statue. The man thinks he got it at a place called Twin Falls Crafters. He thought the artist carved a lot of twin figures back then, but he thinks the guy changed the name of his business. He had never heard the name Reggie Ford or Shara Smiles.
Bailey: At first you couldn’t find any of his work. Now, you’re finding two of everything. I’m going to call him the Twin man.
McKenzie laughed. Bailey was always coming up with nicknames for people.
Sydney: That’s a good one, Bailey. He does carve lots of things in pairs.
Alexis: I’ve been looking at that note you scanned. There’s a dark spot on one corner. Did something spill on it? Check it out. It could be a clue.
McKenzie glanced at Sydney. Did we overlook a clue?
“Girls,” Miss Val hollered from the kitchen. “I’ll be ready in five minutes, so you’d better get ready.”
The girls promised to keep in touch before signing off and racing upstairs. McKenzie stuffed bug spray, Kate’s night vision goggles, the bag of kettle corn, and taffy in her duffel bag.
A girl can never have too many snacks, she thought. She spotted the anonymous note on the dresser and dropped it in her bag.
Minutes later the girls piled into Miss Val’s SUV. Since they had so much gear to take with them, Miss Val had offered to drive them the half mile to the camping site. The back end was crammed with sleeping bags, a tent, flashlights, lawn chairs, and a cooler. After bumping down a narrow dirt track, they arrived at the grassy creek bank.
“Wow! Look at the stars!” Sydney cried as she gazed at the sky. “I never see the stars back home in Washington, DC.”
“The moon is so bright, we hardly need a light,” Miss Val said, lugging the tent from the SUV. “But I’ll leave the headlights on until we get the tent set up and the fire going.”
They soon had camp set up and firewood blazing in the pit. When Miss Val was sure the girls didn’t need her anymore, she headed back to the house. “Call if you need anything. I can be here in two minutes, tops.”
The girls set up their lawn chairs away from the heat of the fire. McKenzie remembered the comment from Alexis about the spot on the anonymous note. She reached inside the tent and pulled the note from her bag.
Holding it up to the fire, McKenzie said, “Look, Alexis is right. There is a spot on the corner that I never noticed before.”
Sydney reached over and took the paper. “It feels kind of waxy. Maybe whoever wrote the note spilled wax on it.”
McKenzie pursed her lips as she thought. She leaned back then turned to Sydney and grinned. “Or, maybe dripping wax fell on it, and where does dripping wax come from?”
Sydney paused before answering. “A candle?”
“That’s right.” McKenzie felt her pulse quicken. “Remember the clerk in the candle shop at Silver Dollar City the o
ther day? She was wearing a bracelet that looked like Mr. Ford’s work. Maybe she wrote this note.”
“But how would she know your name?” Sydney asked, the flames casting shadows across her face.
McKenzie stared into the fire, watching the sparks flit about. “I just thought of something. When I was standing at her counter, I made a remark about meeting Miss Val back at the basket shop. And I think we called each other by name in front of her.”
“That’s right,” Sydney said. “The candle shop isn’t far from Miss Val’s basket shop. She probably knew Miss Val’s name and could have gotten her address off of Silver Dollar City’s computers or in the phone book. She probably knew we were staying with her, and it wouldn’t be hard to find out our names. We would know for sure she wrote the note if we could see how she dots her i.”
“I wish there was some way we could compare handwriting,” McKenzie said.
“Maybe I can figure out a way when I’m at work tomorrow afternoon,” Sydney said.
McKenzie nodded and stuck the note safely back in her duffel bag. “The fire is dying down enough for us to roast marshmallows.”
The girls found a couple of good roasting sticks and got a bag of marshmallows from their gear. A couple of minutes later, Sydney pulled two perfectly golden brown marshmallows off her stick, while McKenzie’s looked like a flaming shish kebob. After swinging the stick through the air to put out the fire, McKenzie stared in dismay at the crispy black morsels on the end.
“I hate the burned ones!” she exclaimed. She peeled the gooey marshmallows off the stick and flung them to the ground. As she licked the sticky mess from her fingers, her gaze traveled to the opposite side of the river. The woods looked dark and menacing as the breeze gently waved the branches in the treetops. The scratching of branches against each other made her imagination run wild. She could almost see wild animals leaping out of the jungle-like woods, swimming across the gurgling stream.
She reached into her bag and pulled out the night vision goggles. Holding them to her eyes, she blinked as a movement in the trees caught her attention. “Sydney,” she whispered, jabbing her friend in the arm with her roasting stick. “I see something.”