“Okay, okay, it’s impossible.” Kat was deflated.
Harper bent over the map. “Hold on, maybe it’s not. Otter Creek runs into Mirror Lake very close to here. There’s an excellent chance that it’s shallow enough to be frozen solid. If we could drive the huskies to that, we could follow its course to Pinto Pond, which leads to Wild-Goose River, which flows into—”
“Silver Lake!” finished Kat, so excited she could barely breathe. “Harper, do you actually believe it’s possible?”
To her great surprise, Harper had. “By using the waterways, we can cut around ten miles off the distance. That’ll make it easier on the huskies. But Kat, what happens if we get to Cath Woodward’s house and she’s the crazy old lady of Wainwright Matthews’s nightmares?”
“She won’t be,” Kat had said confidently. “Riley worships her. According to that article, once Cath was done campaigning to save the loons from the toxic metal monsters, she planned to raise money for a children’s hospital. Does that sound crazy to you?”
It was around then that Harper’s spirit of adventure had really kicked in. They’d agreed that it was too dangerous to attempt the journey in the dark but planned to leave the next morning at 7:00 A.M., when dawn broke in the wintry Adirondacks. What a thrill it would be to race across the wilderness on a sled pulled by six huskies.
“We need a plan B in case there’s no one home when we arrive,” Harper had said. “Cath might be away on vacation or off shopping in Manhattan. What do we do then?”
“We face the music,” Kat said simply. “If we can get a phone signal, we’ll call my mum and explain. If we can’t, we’ll have to make our way to Nightingale Lodge once the huskies have had a break. Our parents will probably be waiting for us and be beyond furious. We’ll be grounded until the end of time. Still, I won’t regret it. Everything we’re about to do, we’re doing to save Riley.”
Harper was overjoyed to have made a decision. It felt great to be moving on. They’d had a blast at the Dog House, but cabin fever was setting in. “I’ll return the satellite system to the storeroom and put the Raspberry Pi back in its box. Whoever unpacks it will get a shock when they find that it’s magically built itself.”
“And I’ll pack our bags and organize the husky harnesses and lines. Then we should get some sleep.”
Before going downstairs, Kat had paused to collect her watercolor pad, Sharpie, and newspaper cuttings. The pad was open at the list of Wish List members.
Gerry Meeks—Retired Insurance Investigator, Jersey City, NJ
Emilio D’Angelo—Gardener, Connecticut
Bianca D’Angelo—Artist, Napa Valley, California
Rob Lautner—Personal Trainer, Saratoga, NY
Kiara Thompson—Nurse, Saratoga, NY
Michael Lautner—Lorry Driver, Adirondacks, NY
Georgia Tey, Costume Designer, Jersey City, NJ
Petite woman?
Kat said, “We never did ID the eighth member of the gang. If Georgia’s the petite woman, we still have one left to find.”
Harper smiled. “We have to leave something for the cops to do, otherwise they’d be redundant.”
“Why do you think the gang did it? Greed, or something else?”
“I think that the Clue Club players became so obsessed with trying to solve mysteries that they started to believe they were criminal masterminds themselves. After eight perfect heists, they thought they were invincible.”
“They nearly were,” said Kat. “If Riley hadn’t witnessed the snatching of the diamond necklace, they’d be counting their millions on a yacht somewhere by now. That’s why we have to help find her before it’s too late. If the Wish List gang can silence her, Gerry Meeks gets a get-out-of-jail-free card.”
Harper logged on to the internet one last time. She wanted to wipe the Raspberry Pi’s drive before packing it away.
She did a last Google search for Riley Matthews updates. Red headlines popped out at her. Detectives searching for Riley Matthews had finally caught a break. One of the bodyguards had helped a police artist put together a sketch of the man who’d ambushed their vehicle. He’d been dressed in a park ranger’s uniform and had shown them a fake badge.
The composite sketch gave Harper the creeps. The man had mean, piggy eyes; two chins; and a hairline that had retreated so far it was making an acquaintance with his neck.
“Hey, Kat. The cops have put out a composite sketch of the man who ambushed the vehicle Riley was traveling in.”
“Brilliant, send it to the printer.” Kat was on her way down to the storeroom and kept going. “We’ll take it to Riley’s grandmother in case she hasn’t seen it.”
Harper didn’t answer. She was staring in disbelief at her screen. A window she thought she’d shut down was still open. Accustomed to her own latest-model, super-secure, firewall-enhanced laptop, it hadn’t occurred to her to block the location when she Skype-called the sheriff’s office. If the cop she’d spoken to decided to trace the call, he’d be able to pinpoint where the call came from.
It was a rookie error. An inexcusable one.
The only saving grace was that they were in the wrong cabin. Nothing linked them to the Dog House. Provided they left at dawn as planned, there was an excellent chance they’d get away with it. If the police officer who’d taken her call was anything like the state troopers on the TV shows she watched, he’d be stuffing his unshaven face with doughnuts and bad coffee at that hour, boots up on his desk.
Should she tell Kat about her blunder? Harper had concluded that there was no reason to add to Kat’s worries. Soon the Dog House would be a distant memory. Everything would be fine.
* * *
Now, as the early-morning light filtered through a narrow window, the huskies leaped around the storeroom in a frenzy of anticipation. To them, harnesses meant fun. They meant a thrilling race across the ice or through the snow. They couldn’t know how much was at stake.
Harper took a deep breath and allowed herself to put the call to the police officer out of her head. Within minutes, she and Kat and the huskies would be fleeting shadows, further concealed by the banks of Otter Creek.
After that, it wouldn’t matter if all the cops in the Adirondacks descended on the Dog House. They might find fingerprints and a bit of a mess, but since the girls didn’t have criminal records, that wouldn’t help them.
Harper climbed onto the sled with some trepidation.
Kat joined her and gathered up the ganglines, which served as reins.
“Harper, are you sure you want to do this? You seem anxious. It’s not too late to change your mind. I’ll understand, I promise. This could be our most dangerous adventure ever. We’re planning to race six huskies across miles of unknown rivers, ponds, and streams that may or may not be frozen. We could fall through the ice, crash, or get attacked by another bear. Or a hostile person. We’ve got no idea what we’ll meet or how Cath Woodward is going to feel about us when we get there. I believe it’s worth the risk, but if you don’t, just say the word. I’ll put the huskies in the kennels, and we’ll hike to Nightingale Lodge.”
Harper had a sudden memory of her laughing comment to Jet’s twins on that first, innocent night in the Adirondacks: Kat’s as brave as a tiger and as loyal as a wolf.
“Kat, you trust the huskies to keep us safe, don’t you?”
Kat adjusted her snow goggles. “They saved us from a charging bear and again in a blizzard. We’re their family. I’d trust them—and you—with my life.”
“You’re my family, and I trust you too,” said Harper. “Let’s do it.”
Kat picked up the storeroom remote control. “It bothers me that we couldn’t find Rocky. I’ve left plenty of food and water for him, but I’d have liked to say goodbye. But we need to get going. As you can tell, as soon as they’re in their harnesses, huskies are like thoroughbreds. All they want to do is run.”
She was about to open the garage-style door when Nomad barked. Rebel snarled too.
“What’s wrong, girl? Rebel, what have you heard?”
A split second later, Kat and Harper heard it too. It was the sound they’d dreaded more than any bear’s roar or any thunderstorm.
It was the sinister growl of a car engine.
SAVING RILEY
Kat hushed Nomad, the leader of the pack. The other huskies would take their commands from her.
“Harper, if that’s the homeowner, we need to get out of here. I’ll slip the harnesses off the dogs and press the exit button for the garage door. Hopefully, they’ll run around the front of the cabin to greet their musher. We can sneak into the woods at the back.”
Harper felt ill. She was certain this disaster was her fault.
“Kat, wait. It might be the cops. They’ll have to park at the gate because the driveway’s blocked. That’ll buy us a couple of minutes. Stay with the huskies and try to keep them quiet. I’ll sneak upstairs, see if I can catch a glimpse of the driver. If they’re harmless, I’ll invent some excuse to get rid of them. If not, I’ll scoot back down here. In an emergency, I’ll ring the dinner bell twice. If you hear it, let the huskies go and I’ll meet you in the woods.”
“Harper, I don’t think—”
But Harper didn’t stop. She was up the storeroom steps in record time. Clambering out, she shut the trapdoor and pulled the rug over it. Tiptoeing to the living room, a worrying thought occurred to her. The cabin door wasn’t locked. Harper hoped she’d have time to bolt it from the inside. It was a flimsy lock, but it would be an extra barrier between them and the unwanted visitor.
Keeping out of sight, she peeked through the side window. A police car was parked at the gate. The driver’s door was open, making a semicircle of light in the early-morning shadows.
Before Harper could fly back down to the storeroom, boots stamped across the porch. Someone pounded at the door.
Frozen with indecision, she could only watch as the front door handle turned. At the last second, she forced her feet to retreat, but it was too late. A state trooper was stepping into the cabin.
Harper felt a bolt of terror. The officer matched the composite sketch of the man responsible for ambushing Riley’s bodyguards’ vehicle. He’d shaved since and changed his uniform from park ranger to cop, but otherwise it was a remarkable likeness, right down to his mean, calculating expression.
A zen stillness came over Harper. A tip Kat had mentioned from the Adirondacks survival book returned to her with perfect clarity.
Your brain is your biggest asset … Those people that remain calm, don’t panic, and then logically reason out their situation are the ones who most often survive.
“Good morning!” she chirped in the manner of a waitress welcoming a favored customer to a diner. “I was just on my way to answer the door.” She eyed the badge on his chest: OFFICER BURT SKINNER.
The officer’s brow jutted over his pebble eyes like an eroded cliff. “Who are you? Where’s the musher?”
“He’s out exercising the huskies,” improvised Harper. “You’ve just missed him. He’ll be gone for hours. Would you like me to pass on a message?”
“Isn’t that interesting.” Officer Skinner began to roam around the room, taking in the scattered foam cushion innards, the dishes piled in the sink, the ash spilling from the grate. “And you’d be what—his daughter?”
“Uh-huh. Like I said, he’ll be gone for a while. Maybe you could come back later.”
“I could, but then again I might make myself a coffee first. That okay with you, young miss?”
He strolled into the kitchen and filled the coffeepot with water. “What did you say your name was?”
Harper hovered by the breakfast bar, torn between convincing him to leave and making a break for the storeroom. Her mind raced. Why would a police officer dressed as a park ranger attack Riley’s bodyguards? Was he a cop at all or just pretending?
But, no, he had to be the real deal. It was him who’d taken her call at the sheriff’s office, she was certain of it. The “young miss” was a giveaway. Was it possible that there was an extra member of the Wish List gang she and Kat hadn’t counted on? A crooked cop would make a perfect robber. Maybe he’d planned to eliminate the star witness so the trial would collapse, freeing his accomplice, Gerry Meeks.
Whatever the truth, he was a cunning and deadly monster who had already put two trained protection officers in the hospital. It was unbelievable bad luck that of all the cops in all the sheriff’s departments in the U.S., Harper had gotten him on the end of the line. Now he believed that someone in the Dog House had information on Riley’s whereabouts.
“Umm, uh, my name’s Louise,” she told him. “There’s a to-go cup in the cupboard behind you. Take it with you! Drop it off next time you’re passing. You’re welcome to have the bag of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups too.”
He propped himself against the counter, head cocked to one side. “Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t. ’Fore I do anything, though, Louise, you and I need to have words. See, Torvill, the Norwegian widow who owns the huskies, she only ever hires women mushers to take care of ’em. Says they’re more reliable. Not sayin’ I agree with that, but they’re her huskies. It’s her choice. The clue’s in the team name: Wonder Women Racing.
“Other thing is, Torvill’s a real stickler for tidiness. Any time I been around here, you could eat off the floor. But right now it’s like a grenade went off in a cushion factory.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Harper noticed a cereal box wobble. Rocky’s masked-bandit features rose above the box of granola before sinking out of sight. If she hadn’t been so scared, she’d have laughed. She did her best to focus on the sallow jowls of Officer Skinner—if that was his real name—while edging carefully around the counter.
He blocked her path. “You seem pretty bundled up, Louise, for a kid who claims to only be hanging around the cabin, not bothering to wash the dishes. Sure you’re not off to the North Pole like one of them explorers?”
“I was going to out with Dad and the huskies, but I changed my mind.”
He snorted. “Call me suspicious, Louise, but what I’d like to know is why you’ve been lying to me since I arrived. You’re averaging about one lie per minute. First, you lied about what you and your dad are doing in Torvill’s cabin—”
“We’re visiting!”
“If that was true, you’d be at the Royal Victoria Hospital in Montreal, Canada. That’s where she was taken for an emergency operation after suffering a burst appendix on an overnight dog-training trip. There were complications, and she was sedated for a few days. When she came around last night, she was frantic about her huskies—understandably. Asked us to check up on them.”
Harper nearly fainted. That explained why the huskies had been left alone. She and Kat were going to be arrested, exactly as they’d feared.
But the cop hadn’t finished.
“Next, you told a lie about the huskies going out in the snow ‘for hours.’ I ain’t deaf. They’re whining and scuffling fit to blow a gasket down in the basement. And I’ll take a punt that Louise is not your real name. That’s lie number three. Fourth, you’re lying about why you’re dressed for a polar expedition. Fifth, you made up lies about Riley Matthews’s kidnappers. Yeah, I know it was you on the phone, Louise. I traced your call to this here cabin.”
He lunged at her and clutched her arm. “Start talking, kid, or you’ll be walking all the way to the jailhouse.”
“Ow, you’re hurting me.”
He squeezed even harder. “Where is that Riley brat?” he thundered. “I had a tip-off that she knows where the diamond necklace is stashed. Where is she hiding? Urff!!!”
He dropped Harper’s arm and reeled away, blood streaming from two punctures on his neck. Chittering in terror, the raccoon jumped from his shoulder onto the kitchen cabinet. The husky cookie jar smashed as he evaded the man’s grasp and leaped for his escape route.
Before disappearing, the raccoon pivoted toward Harper as if to reassure himself
that she didn’t need his help anymore.
“Go, Rocky!” she screamed.
Officer Skinner was clawing at a roll of paper towels. The raccoon was forgotten as he clamped a wad to his bleeding neck.
Harper didn’t waste time concerning herself with his well-being. She ran for the front door. Slamming it behind her, she jumped off the porch into the snow.
All she could think about was leading him away from Kat. Once she’d done that, she’d try to flee into the woods.
The man staggered out onto the porch after her. “Come back here or you’re dead.”
Harper kept going, sloshing and crunching through the snow on the driveway, her breath coming in gasps. When she reached the police car, she leaned into the driver’s side, wrinkling her nose at the stench of stale sweat, festering burger wrappers, and crumpled coffee cups. Burt Skinner was hardly in a position to give lectures on cleanliness.
Wrenching the keys from the ignition, she rushed down to the lakeshore and threw them as hard and far as she could. They slid into a crack in the ice and were lost to view.
Officer Skinner was standing on a rise glaring down at her. “You’ve done it now, Louise. You and Riley Matthews, you’ll be sorry.”
* * *
As soon as Rocky came shooting down the storeroom pipe, gibbering with fear, Kat knew that Harper was in desperate trouble.
At the time, she was standing beside the printer. While poking around the prepper cupboard for dog treats to keep the huskies quiet, she’d spotted the police sketch Harper had uploaded for her. The fake park warden who’d ambushed the vehicle Riley was traveling in looked every inch a bully with a badge. She could imagine him arresting people just because he could.
While at the printer, Kat noticed something else too. Harper had reprinted the photos from the Royal Manhattan in hope of improving the detail. She’d forgotten to pack them. As Kat slid them into her backpack, she spotted what looked to be the white flare of a flashbulb on one of the pictures.
Kat Wolfe on Thin Ice Page 12