McKenzie

by Shari Barr

  Near the top step, McKenzie heard muffled footsteps. She turned to her friend and put a finger to her lips. Biscuit squirmed in Kate’s arms and let out a yip.

  The muffled noises stopped. McKenzie lunged up the last few steps, aiming the flashlight toward the stacks of small hay bales. At first she saw no one. But as she swung the flashlight across the loft, she gasped at the figure standing in the beam of light.

  “Charity!” she cried. “What are you doing up here?”

  Biscuit jumped from Kate’s arms and ran to the teenage girl. He pawed the front of her jeans.

  For a moment the older girl didn’t answer. Then she stammered, “I…I…oh, I might as well tell you.” She slumped onto a bale and stretched out her legs. “After you two started talking about my great-grandfather the other night, I got to thinking. Whoever stole the journal must have had a reason. Maybe there is something to the rumor about a treasure. A lot of funny stuff is going on around here. First food and blankets disappeared. Then the journal was stolen, and you found it in the corn maze. If you look out that window over there, you can see halfway across the Farms.” Charity pointed at a window on the far side of the loft. “I came up here to see if anyone was prowling around after hours.”

  For the first time, McKenzie noticed the binoculars in Charity’s hands. “Have you seen anything?”

  “Sort of,” Charity said with a slight nod. “I’ve been hiding out around the Farms since the park closed a couple of hours ago. Several employees work late to take care of things around their exhibits. And some take care of the livestock before they go home. Well, everyone had already left about an hour ago, and then I saw a man wandering around. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him before, but then I remembered what happened the other day.”

  “What happened?” Kate asked excitedly, moving closer to Charity.

  “Trevor and I were helping Mr. Weaver work on the split-rail exhibit, when Blake and a man about thirty years old came up to us. A crowd of people had gathered around asking questions about the fence. But this man started asking if there was a stone mason at the Farms.”

  “A stone mason?” McKenzie asked. “You mean someone who makes things out of stones?”

  “Yes,” Charity answered. “He seemed a little upset that Mr. Weaver didn’t know anything about stone masonry. Blake seemed to be frustrated too.”

  “But you don’t know this man?” McKenzie asked, propping her flashlight on a hay bale so the light shined against the far wall.

  Charity shook her head. “Neither Mr. Weaver nor Trevor knew him either. But then I got to thinking. Mom told me that her Grandpa Drake used to work for a stone mason when things were slow on the farm.”

  McKenzie tried to piece together all the information. “Maybe the stranger’s question about the stone mason has something to do with the treasure,” she suggested.

  “What did he look like?” Kate asked.

  “Oh, average height, reddish-brown hair. Kind of thin. Just an average guy, I guess,” Charity answered.

  McKenzie glanced at Kate. “That sounds like the man we saw with Blake last night. I wonder who he is and what he’s doing around here.”

  Charity shrugged as she let out a sigh. “I saw another person hanging around too—Blake Reece. But I haven’t seen either of them for quite a-while. Maybe they both left.”

  McKenzie settled onto the bale beside her. She thought about the footprints she had seen in the cornfield yesterday. Then she remembered the noises she’d heard in the old school a while earlier. “Boy, you sure scared us when you came into the school a little while ago. Why didn’t you answer when I hollered?”

  Charity looked confused. “I wasn’t in the school.”

  McKenzie froze. She swallowed a lump forming in her throat, glancing at Kate. “I suppose you weren’t in the shower house either.”

  “No,” Charity said, looking from one girl to the other.

  “What about the sleeping bag and cooler up here?” Kate asked. “Aren’t they yours?”

  “I didn’t know there was a sleeping bag and cooler up here,” Charity said, hugging her knees to her chest. “Where are they?”

  “Over here, behind the bales,” Kate said, scrambling over the hay to peer behind the stack. “If they’re not yours, whose are they?”

  The three girls sat in silence for a minute, looking anxiously at each other. “Do you think they could belong to that guy you saw wandering around?” McKenzie asked Charity.

  Charity’s eyes widened. “I don’t know about you two, but if this stuff is his, I don’t want to get caught up here.”

  McKenzie felt her pulse quicken. “Me neither. I thought I wanted to know who was staying up here, but now I’m not so sure. Let’s get out of here.”

  The girls scrambled to their feet and headed toward the stairs. McKenzie went first, lighting the way with her flashlight. They crept silently out of the barn into the glow of the moon peeking through the trees.

  “I’ll go with you guys through the back gate and go to my car,” Charity whispered.

  Minutes later, the girls separated. Charity headed down the road, her figure barely visible in the moonlight as she walked away.

  McKenzie and Kate hurried up the lane toward home. Uncle Luke and Aunt Cara were watching TV in the family room when they walked in.

  “I was about ready to start looking for you, girls,” Aunt Cara said.

  While Biscuit lapped water from his bowl, McKenzie spoke to her aunt and uncle. “We found a sleeping bag and a cooler in the loft of the round barn several days ago. And Charity has seen a strange man wandering around the grounds. We wondered if he could be staying up there.”

  Her aunt and uncle exchanged worried glances, and then Aunt Cara spoke, “Luke, maybe it’s the stolen items. It could be that an employee was keeping drinks up there and taking a quick nap during lunch time.”

  McKenzie had a feeling that her aunt Cara didn’t believe what she was telling the girls. I don’t think she wants to worry us, she thought.

  “Well, why don’t I go check things out,” Uncle Luke said, smiling at the girls. “I’m sure it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

  As he slipped into his work boots to head outside, McKenzie’s cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and noticed Elizabeth’s number. “Hey, Liz. What’s up?”

  “Where have you been? The Camp Club Girls are waiting for you in our chat room?”

  “We’ve been talking to Charity. We’ve got more news.” McKenzie walked into the kitchen and dug through the cupboards for a snack.

  “About the mystery?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Yes,” McKenzie answered. “Some more weird stuff is going on.”

  “Why don’t you go to our chat room so everyone can talk? I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Elizabeth said.

  McKenzie agreed and the girls hurried upstairs with a box of crackers and a can of squirty cheese. Kate grabbed her laptop and plopped onto the bed beside McKenzie.

  Once they logged into their chat room, the girls quickly filled in the Camp Club Girls on their new findings.

  Alexis: Maybe the person who’s staying in the barn is looking for clues to the treasure. In the Nancy Drew books I read, the bad guy is always hiding somewhere close to the crime scene. I think the sleeping bag and cooler belong to him, whoever he is.

  Sydney: I’ve got an idea. Didn’t you say once that Charity didn’t think her Great-grandpa could have hidden a treasure because he was poor? Well, maybe he hid some of the money before the stock market crashed.

  Bailey: Hey, maybe that strange man is looking for more clues around Heritage Farms. Isn’t the attraction built on Mr. Drake’s old farm?

  The girls glanced at each other, and Kate quickly answered that a portion of his farm was indeed now a part of Heritage Farms and Villages.

  McKenzie: Part of Mr. Drake’s land wasn’t sold to Heritage Farms, though. One part was too hilly, so it still belongs to Charity’s mom.

  Bail
ey: If Charity’s family hasn’t found a treasure after all these years, how are we supposed to find it?

  Elizabeth: We can’t give up. If God wants us to find the treasure, He will help us. First Corinthians 10:24 says, “Nobody should seek his own good, but the good of others.” If there’s a treasure, we have to find it for Charity and her family. They need it and deserve it.

  McKenzie thought about Elizabeth’s words. She knew God wanted them to keep trying. Charity had become a good friend to her in the last few days, and she would do anything to help her. Surely between all six of the Camp Club Girls, they could figure out the riddle. But only God knew if there actually was a treasure. Until she knew for sure, McKenzie wasn’t going to give up trying.

  The girls chatted online a few more minutes. Then they signed off when they heard Uncle Luke’s voice downstairs.

  “He’s back,” McKenzie said, jumping off the bed. “Let’s see what he found out.”

  The girls raced down the stairs and found Uncle Luke and Aunt Cara sitting at the kitchen table talking.

  “There wasn’t a thing up there that didn’t belong,” Uncle Luke told his wife. Then looking up at the girls, he continued, “I looked everywhere, and I didn’t see a sleeping bag or a cooler.”

  McKenzie felt her jaw drop open as she glanced at Kate. “But it was there a half hour ago.”

  “Well, there’s no sign of it now,” Uncle Luke said. “Maybe Ross had those things up there and moved them. I’ll ask him about it tomorrow.”

  McKenzie shook her head in amazement. If those things belonged to the stranger, had he been waiting for them to leave so he could get his stuff? She shuddered at the thought of someone watching her, Kate, and Charity.

  The girls headed back upstairs, chatting as they got ready for bed. The next morning, they found a note on the kitchen table from Aunt Cara.

  “We have a meeting early this morning at the administration building. Then we have to talk with the electrician about repairs to the fuse boxes. We won’t be home until this evening. Have fun today. Love, Uncle Luke and Aunt Cara”

  McKenzie’s phone rang as the girls headed home after the Farm had closed for the day. Aunt Cara was calling, saying they had to go into Des Moines for supplies. They wouldn’t be home until later in the evening.

  “Make sure you watch the weather,” Aunt Cara added. “There are tornado watches out for our area. That’s why we don’t want to take you to Des Moines with us. We’d rather you stay at home where you can get to safety quickly!”

  After hanging up, McKenzie told Kate about the call.

  “Tornadoes! I’ve never been in a tornado,” Kate said, her eyes widening with fear.

  “It doesn’t mean we’re going to have a tornado. It just means the conditions are right for one,” McKenzie explained. She could tell Kate was worried, so she changed the subject. “Now we have to come up with something to do this evening since Uncle Luke and Aunt Cara won’t be home.”

  “We need to work on the hidden treasure mystery. We’ve been so busy trying to figure out who was staying in the loft, we haven’t spent much time on Mr. Drake’s riddle,” Kate said, swatting a mosquito on her arm.

  McKenzie nodded. “I sure hope there actually is a treasure. If Mr. Drake did hide it somewhere, now is the perfect time for his family to find it. Charity’s family deserves it more than anyone I know.”

  “Let’s work on the riddle some more when we get home,” Kate suggested as the girls walked up the front steps of the Randalls’ home.

  After letting Biscuit outside to run, the girls poured glasses of lemonade. They sat at the kitchen table with Kate’s laptop in front of them. McKenzie lifted the sheet of paper with the riddle printed on it and read it aloud.

  McKenzie laid the paper down. “I don’t know what any of it means. Who is the rose man? And what are the green eyes?”

  Kate opened her email account and her eyes lit up. “Listen to Sydney’s email. ‘Hey, guys. I have an idea. The riddle reads—Beneath the shimmering rose man’s lights, you’ll find riches sleeping where the green eyes shine. Maybe the last half of the riddle means buried treasure.”

  McKenzie’s heart raced. “I bet she’s right, Kate. That’s got to be it! But where’s it buried?”

  A cloud darkened the kitchen window, casting a shadow over the room. “We forgot to let Biscuit back in,” Kate cried.

  McKenzie jumped up, nearly knocking her chair over as she pushed it back. A blast of hot, muggy air hit her when she opened the door. A dark swirling mass of greenish gray clouds hovered above the horizon. The leaves on the trees hung still on the branches. Not a breath of air moved.

  “Biscuit!” Kate hollered as she stepped outside in front of her friend. “Here, boy!”

  Turning to McKenzie, she said, “I’m going to look for him.” Then she jumped down the last two steps and hurried across the yard, calling for her dog.

  “I’m going to watch the weather.” McKenzie stepped back inside and turned on the small TV on the kitchen counter.

  The weather report flickered on to the Channel 8 news. The weatherman spoke in a stern voice. “As I’ve been reporting, the National Weather Service has indicated that Madison County, Iowa, is in a tornado warning. That means you need to take cover as soon as possible in a basement or in an interior room with no windows.”

  McKenzie’s pulse quickened as she glanced out the kitchen window. The dark clouds on the horizon rolled closer. They didn’t have many tornadoes in Montana. She had seen a few in other years when she came to visit her aunt and uncle, but she had never been home alone during one.

  She turned back to the TV as the weatherman continued in an urgent tone. “Those in the affected areas, please take cover immediately in a basement or the lowest level of your home!”

  A Wild Ride!

  McKenzie didn’t hear the rest of the reporter’s announcement. Kate and Biscuit were still outside!

  McKenzie darted outside and raced down the lane toward the back entrance of Heritage Farms. The dark, twisting clouds rolled in the sky above. The air, motionless only a minute before, now lashed the leaves wildly in the treetops. In the distance, she could faintly hear tornado sirens going off.

  “Kate,” she screamed into the wind. “Biscuit!”

  McKenzie saw the back gate to the Farms flapping in the wind. Slap-bang, slap-bang. The gate slammed open and closed on its hinges. She sighed with relief when she saw her friend running toward her from the round barn, her hair whipping about her face. With Biscuit in her arms, Kate latched the gate behind her and hurried up the lane.

  “We need to get to the basement,” McKenzie cried into the roaring wind.

  Kate nodded and hurried with McKenzie back to the house. Though it was only six o’clock in the evening, the sky was growing darker by the minute.

  The girls held onto each other, struggling against the wind. The trees lining the driveway bowed from the force of the storm. By the time they stumbled up the back steps, the wind practically blew them inside.

  Once in the basement, the girls huddled together. Here the noise of the storm was muffled. McKenzie stroked Biscuit’s quivering head as she said a silent prayer. Dear God, please protect us from the storm. Watch over Charity’s family and bring Uncle Luke and Aunt Cara home safely.

  “How long do we have to stay down here?” Kate stroked Biscuit’s back as he curled up in her lap.

  “I don’t know,” McKenzie answered. She grabbed the remote and flipped on the TV. The girls sat on the couch and listened to the reporter tell them the storm was moving north. The picture kept cutting in and out. McKenzie knew that happened sometimes when signals came in from a satellite dish like her aunt and uncle had. “It’s moving out of the Madison County area, so the warning should be allowed to expire in a few minutes,” the reporter said, standing in front of a radar screen.

  “Oh, good,” McKenzie said with relief. “I need to call my mom and tell her I’m okay. She’s always watching the Weather Channel.�
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  McKenzie called her parents’ home in Montana while Kate called her family. McKenzie didn’t usually get homesick when she visited her relatives, but it felt good to hear her mom’s voice. She talked to her mom for several minutes. When she heard a door slam upstairs and footsteps scurrying across the floor, she quickly said goodbye.

  “Are you girls down there?” a familiar voice called down the stairs.

  “Yes, Aunt Cara,” McKenzie called, jumping to her feet.

  “You can come up now,” Aunt Cara said from the top of the staircase.

  McKenzie bounded up the stairs with Kate and Biscuit close behind.

  “Is the storm over?” McKenzie asked peering out the window. The sky had lightened and the rain had turned to a light drizzle. Small twigs and leaves littered the yard, but the wind had died down.

  “Yes, it’s all over,” Aunt Cara said with a smile. “We sat in a convenience store for a while until the worst blew over. I see you girls did the smart thing and went to the basement. I tried to call you, but I couldn’t get a signal.”

  The girls followed Aunt Cara into the kitchen, where Uncle Luke was busy setting out sliced ham and turkey for sandwiches.

  “I think the worst of the storm went north of us,” he said, placing a bag of chips on the table. “After supper, I’ll check things at the Farm and drive around the neighborhood. It doesn’t look like we got much damage around here, but I want to make sure.”

  After they finished eating, the girls helped clean up the kitchen. Then Aunt Cara left with her husband to check for storm damage.

  Kate grabbed Biscuit’s leash and snapped it onto his collar. “Biscuit needs a walk. He hasn’t been out much all day.”

  McKenzie followed her friend outside, amazed at the sunny sky overhead. She knew that storms blew over quickly in Iowa. The weather could change twenty degrees or more in a matter of minutes. It was hard to believe the storm had come through only an hour ago. Everything looked clean and fresh after the rain. A cool breeze had replaced the muggy air from earlier in the day.