The Multiplying Mysteries of Mount Ten

by Krista Van Dolzer

Angeline managed to ignore her. “According to the legend, he challenged the mountain man Jim Bridger to a water-hauling contest. Whoever could get the most water from Lake Wannacrunchanumber to the top of Lookout Hill would win the deed to all the land. Mr. Bridger took the bet, confident in his superiority, but Archimedes never intended to compete with the mountain man’s muscles. While Mr. Bridger spent the day hauling bucket after bucket, Archimedes built a simple screw pump. He moved more water in ten minutes than Mr. Bridger had in ten hours, and just like that, the deed was his.”

  I couldn’t help but shiver. I’d never been the superstitious sort, but I’d never been trapped at a math camp with a homicidal maniac. Suddenly, it felt like my sketchbook was on fire.

  “But Archimedes must be dead,” I said. “If he won it from Jim Bridger, he can’t still be alive—right?”

  Now that my eyes had adjusted, I could see Angeline more clearly. Her solemn eyes and hollow cheeks looked like they’d been carved from stone. “I don’t know,” she said. “Someone had to leave that note.”

  When I woke up the next morning, Angeline’s last words were still rattling around in my head: Someone had to leave that note. Someone had to leave that note. Someone had to leave that note. I jammed my head under my pillow, but the chant only got louder. I was still trying to ignore it when the flesh-and-blood Angeline dragged the blanket off my legs with another of her awkward arm-wave moves.

  “Rise and shine!” she chirped. “I have something to show you.”

  At least that caught my attention. Grudgingly, I climbed out of bed and dug a pair of cargo shorts out of my duffel. The jeans I’d been wearing yesterday were officially toast. I’d wiggled out of them before I’d tumbled into bed, and they were still standing up in the corner, a sculpture in mud and denim. It really was too bad Director Saffron wouldn’t see it.

  I was headed down the hall when I spied a scrap of paper, thin and smooth like all the others, poking up out of a gap between the floorboards and the wall. My stomach did a somersault as I bent down to retrieve. Sure enough, it was a clue:

  Hydra and Cyclops are involved in a not-so-secret fling.

  I quickly checked both ways, but whoever had planted the clue had already disappeared. Sighing, I wadded it up and shoved it deep into my pocket. If I ignored the killer’s clues, maybe he’d leave me alone.

  By the time I made it down to breakfast, Angeline had disappeared. Apparently, what she’d wanted to show me wasn’t as urgent as I’d thought. I tried not to feel annoyed as I sat down across from Toby, who was chewing his last bite. An uneaten plate of pork links was sitting by his elbow.

  “They were almost out,” he said, nudging the plate across the table, “so I thought I’d get you some.”

  After last night’s drama, this small act of kindness was enough to make me sniffle. “Thanks, Toby,” I said.

  He took a swig of coffee. Then he took another swig. “Anything you want to talk about?”

  I hemmed and hawed uncomfortably. Toby tended to leave the hard-core parenting to Mom, but then, she was out of reach.

  “No,” I finally said, dragging a hand under my nose. As much as I wanted to dump the whole twisted tale on him, I wasn’t going to expose him any more than I already had.

  He tipped his head toward Mr. Sharp. “Gordon’s pretty sure he can jerry-rig the truck, but even if he can’t, he offered to drive us down to Morgan.” He drained his coffee in one gulp. “I guess they have a shuttle there that makes runs to Camp Vermeer.”

  “We’re leaving?” I asked stupidly.

  Toby’s forehead crinkled. “I thought you wanted to leave.”

  I did want to leave. But I also wanted to find out what these clues were pointing toward. If something happened to these kids, I would blame myself forever. They might have been math nerds, but they’d quickly become my math nerds.

  “I do,” I said indignantly. “It’s just that I’m kind of involved in this kind-of-crucial project, and the session’s halfway over, anyway—”

  “So you want to stay,” he said. It wasn’t quite a question, but it might as well have been.

  “No!” I couldn’t help but blurt. I cleared my throat and tried again: “I mean, no, I can’t stay here. We never paid the fees. They might not have enough supplies.”

  Toby frowned. “Fair point.”

  I practically sagged with relief. He hadn’t figured me out yet. “So Camp Vermeer or bust?” I asked.

  He pressed his lips into a line. They disappeared into his beard. “Sure, Camp Vermeer or bust,” he said.

  Before I had a chance to redirect our conversation, a nearby scuffle caught my eye. Angeline had reappeared in the middle of the breakfast line—literally in the middle, right in front of Brooklyn—and Brooklyn wasn’t budging. I expected Angeline to yield, but she stayed right in Brooklyn’s face.

  “Back off, Barbie,” Brooklyn growled.

  I couldn’t hear Angeline’s reply, but Brooklyn didn’t take her bait, just tried to worm her way around her.

  Angeline wasn’t finished yet. “Hey, Brooklyn,” she said, scooping up a spoonful of grape jam.

  When Brooklyn turned around, Angeline lobbed it at her head.

  The first thing I felt was glee. It might have been cruel and petty, but I’d wanted to see Brooklyn get what was coming to her since she’d nearly knocked my block off. The next thing I felt was disbelief. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, but when I opened them again, Brooklyn was still seething, and Angeline was still smirking. I was beginning to think that time had figured out how to stand still when Angeline scooped up another spoonful. Then Ms. Gutierrez sprang between them.

  Then the director came out of her office.

  “ANGELINE!” she barked after taking one look at the scene.

  Angeline lowered her arm, but the damage was already done. The grape jam rolled down Brooklyn’s cheek and splatted loudly on the floor.

  The mess hall was so silent that I could hear Munch chewing and the fire crackling. Only Mr. Pearson, who was calmly tending to his scones, seemed immune to the shock wave.

  Director Verity swallowed. “Get cleaned up,” she told Brooklyn, then set her sights on Angeline. For a long time she just stood there glaring. If she’d been angry before, she was downright livid now. “And you just—you just—go to your room, and don’t come out until I tell you to come out!”

  Brooklyn ducked into the bathroom on the far side of the mess hall, but Angeline held her ground. I fought the urge to rub my eyes. I was missing something here. There was something I wasn’t seeing. But I couldn’t work it out before Angeline trashed her spoon and made a beeline for the stairs.

  If one of us was going to go ballistic, I wouldn’t have guessed it would be her.

  The director sighed. “My apologies for the theatrics.” She motioned toward the mess. “Mr. Sharp, Ms. Gutierrez, would you mind cleaning that up? I have some business to attend to.”

  As Director Verity clicked away, I felt my chest slowly deflate. Everyone else deflated, too. Forks clinked, voices hummed, and a pair of dishrags hit the floorboards with an unsettling splat.

  Toby tried to take a sip of coffee, then remembered it was gone and grimly set the mug back down. “Things are getting kind of weird.”

  “You have no idea,” I muttered, shoving the pork links away.

  As soon as breakfast was over, Director Verity returned. Apparently, the awful weather was turning us into wound-up springs, so we were going to run around the gym until we came to our senses.

  Though the math nerds lodged complaints, I was secretly excited. Some good old-fashioned exercise was just what I needed to get my head in the right place. Except good old-fashioned exercise produced good old-fashioned sweat, so in an hour, maybe more, I was in desperate need of a shower and another set of clothes. The thought of talking to Angeline, who was still a wound-up spring, wasn’t exactly a nice one, but since I’d have to face her now or later, it might as well be now.

  It took me ten wh
ole minutes to scrape together enough courage, but when I pushed open that door, the only thing that greeted me was a cold, abandoned room.

  Angeline was gone.

  CHAPTER 10

  I tightened my grip on the knob. Angeline was gone. After I’d told her about the note. After she’d told me about the legend.

  I forced myself to breathe. There were ninety-seven places she could be at that moment, and ninety-six of them were more boring than Math Genius. It was too early to freak out.

  I flipped the light switch out of habit and was surprised when it turned on. The power must have started working while we were stinking up the gym. But I wouldn’t celebrate until I found Angeline.

  First, I checked behind the door. Then I checked under the bunks. When cold air curled around my ankles, my gaze darted to the sliding door, which was slightly open. I scrambled to my feet and shoved the blinds out of the way, but the balcony was as empty as the rest of Cabin Epsilon.

  A shiver skittered down my spine, but I pretended not to notice as I closed the sliding door. There had to be an explanation, and it was up to me to find it.

  I was out the door in a few steps and down the hall in a few more. I was passing Cabin Gamma when the door whipped open from the inside and I crashed into Marshane.

  “Hey, watch it!” he barked, then glanced at me over his shoulder. “Oh, hey, Esther. What’s up?”

  “Have you seen Angeline?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Not since this morning.”

  I kicked the door frame. “Drat!”

  One corner of his mouth curled up. “Is that a substitute swear word or some kind of mutant rodent?”

  I scowled. “Don’t start with me.” I glanced over the railing, but she wasn’t in the game room, either.

  Marshane’s eyes lit up. “Is this about—?”

  “Don’t say it,” I cut in, sneaking peeks in both directions. “You never know who might be listening.”

  “Do you want me to help you look?”

  “If it will shut you up,” I said.

  At the bottom of the stairs, I pointed my chin toward the game room. “If you go that way, I’ll go this way.” I slid my phone out of my pocket. “We’ll meet back here in ten minutes.”

  “Why ten minutes?” he replied. “And if I’m not back for our meeting, will you send out the search party for me, too?”

  I scowled again. “Just do it!”

  He had the nerve to salute. “Whatever you say, ma’am.” And with that, he sauntered off.

  I didn’t wait for him to vanish, just set my sights on the mess hall. It was all that I could do not to break into a sprint and scour the lodge from top to bottom, but if the killer was watching, then I had to play this cool.

  After circling the mess hall, I crept into the common room, where Mr. Sharp and Ms. Gutierrez were leading a rowdy game of Sevens. At first, I hovered near the back, but when I didn’t catch a glimpse of Angeline, I sat down next to Munch. “Have you seen Angeline?” I asked.

  Munch nearly leaped out of his seat. “Are you trying to give a guy a heart attack?”

  “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I’m just trying to find Angeline.”

  Munch’s forehead crinkled. “She got banished, didn’t she?”

  “Yeah, she did,” I said. “But she isn’t in our room.” I turned to go, then turned right back. “If you happen to run into her, will you let her know I’m looking for her?”

  “Yeah, sure,” he said absently. It looked like Sevens had already recaptured his attention.

  I slipped out of the common room as silently as I’d slipped in. The hall that led down to the storage rooms was silent and shadowy, much like the storage rooms themselves. I was so paranoid that I kept checking behind me—which was how I crashed into a wall. But then the wall harrumphed, and I realized it wasn’t a wall.

  It was Mr. Pearson’s chest.

  “I’m so sorry!” I leaped back. He didn’t seem like the sort of person who’d overlook people crashing into him, and I’d crashed into him twice. It was time to smooth things over. “Were you playing basketball?”

  Mr. Pearson’s eyes narrowed. “I could ask you the same thing.”

  It took me a few seconds to realize that I might be in trouble. “Oh, I was just playing Sevens with Mr. Sharp and Ms. Gutierrez, but then I realized that Angeline wasn’t there, and since I haven’t seen her since, you know, I figured I should try to find her.”

  The words poured out of me faster than I’d meant them to, and for a moment, I was sure Mr. Pearson would see through me. But instead of grilling me, he scowled.

  “Well, she isn’t here,” he said, “so I suggest you take your search elsewhere.”

  “Good idea,” I said breathlessly, spinning around and scurrying off. I didn’t stop to catch my breath until I’d nearly reached the stairs, where I almost tripped over a pair of familiar feet.

  “Well?” I asked Marshane, planting both hands on my knees.

  He tucked his hands behind his head. “I found a calculator in the game room, a graphic novel in the sitting room, and an inhaler on the stairs.” He pulled a lipstick from his pocket. “Oh, and I found this in the theater.”

  “There’s a theater?” I asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” Marshane replied. “It’s got recliners, stadium seating, all the latest bells and whistles. But aren’t you at least curious about whose lipstick this is?” He returned it to his pocket. “I think Ms. Gutierrez is involved with Mr. Sharp. Mr. Pearson is too creepy to be involved with anyone.”

  I couldn’t have cared less about that stupid tube of lipstick. “What about Angeline?” I asked.

  Marshane’s wiry shoulders drooped. “Yeah, no sign of her,” he said.

  I felt my shoulders droop, too. “Then I guess we have no choice.”

  “No choice but to do what?” he replied.

  I pressed my lips into a line. “Talk to Director Verity.”

  Before he could talk me out of it, I squared my sagging shoulders and marched back across the mess hall. Mr. Sharp and Ms. Gutierrez were still in the middle of their game, so I only just tapped on her door. I didn’t want to make a scene.

  Luckily, she answered before I had to knock again. “What may I help you with?” she asked, then took a closer look at me. “Esther, what is it? You look like you’ve just seen Euler’s ghost.”

  I drew a bracing breath. If I told her, it was possible that she’d think I was crazy. But if I didn’t tell her, it was possible that Angeline would never be heard from again.

  “It’s Angeline,” I said. “I can’t find her anywhere.”

  Director Verity relaxed. “You don’t need to worry about Angeline. I’ve already taken care of her.”

  She’d already taken care of her? I was still trying to decide how to respond to that announcement when Director Verity went on.

  “I probably should have told you sooner, but I’m afraid Angeline left. When I spoke to her grandfather this morning, he and I agreed it would be best to cut her visit short.”

  An alarm bell went off in my head. “But the phones don’t work up here.”

  She gestured over her shoulder. “Oh, I have a satellite phone. It’s not the sleekest piece of tech, but it does get the job done.”

  Another alarm bell went off in my head. “But what about the road? It’s been, like, washed out for days. How could an old man drive up it?”

  “It’s getting clearer all the time. Besides, Angeline’s grandfather used to be a forest ranger, so he’s accustomed to these mountains, not to mention these conditions.” When I just stood there blinking, Director Verity added, “Oh, and he’s got four-wheel drive.”

  She was lying through her lipstick, but there was no way I could prove it. And until I found some evidence, there was no way I could prove that Angeline had been kidnapped. But something was definitely up.

  Maybe Director Verity had left that note herself.

  I stepped back instinctively and bumped into Marshane. I ha
dn’t noticed him creep up behind me, but I was grateful that he had.

  Director Verity stepped forward. “Are you sure you’re all right? If you’ve been feeling poorly, I could ask Mr. Pearson to whip up some lemon tea.”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m all right.” The last thing I wanted to do was let her or Mr. Pearson anywhere near me. “I think I just need a break.”

  “Then you should take one,” she replied, slamming the door shut in my face.

  That was a fine how-do-you-do. Did she have something—or someone—incriminating in her office?

  Marshane cleared his throat. “Are you gonna keep stepping on my foot?”

  I glanced down at his foot (which I was definitely stepping on). “Tell the others we need to meet,” I said as I headed for the stairs. “Before dinner, you know where.”

  “What are you gonna do in the meantime?”

  “Reconnaissance,” I said.

  I figured I had a few minutes before the game of Sevens broke up, so I needed to search Cabin Epsilon while Brooklyn was distracted. If I couldn’t find Angeline, at least I could find evidence.

  After making sure the room was as secure as I could make it, I scoured Angeline’s bunk. I hadn’t noticed earlier, but the puffy pink blanket was gone, replaced by a wad of crumpled sheets. It certainly looked like she’d gone home, but then, looks could be deceiving.

  I used my practice foil, which I’d crammed into my duffel before Toby and I left, to separate the pale blue sheets, then picked through them one by one. She wouldn’t have gone without a fight, so there was a good chance they’d left forensic evidence behind. But after digging through each sheet, I couldn’t find signs of a struggle. There was no blood, no intestines, and the only hairs in sight were Angeline’s long blond ones.

  After drop-kicking her pillow across the room in frustration, I clambered up the ladder and inspected the top bunk. It looked exactly like my bunk had looked on my first day at camp. Sighing, I hopped off the ladder and got down on my hands and knees. Maybe she’d heard the killer coming and tried to hide under the bed. But the only things under the bed were a warren of dust bunnies and a lonely ankle sock.