McKenzie’s Branson Brainteaser

by Shari Barr

  “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 other 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.”

  She watched as a shadowy figure moved stealthily along the bank, staying in the protective darkness of the woods. Chills rippled up McKenzie’s back as the form moved slowly along the bank.

  For a split second, the figure stepped into the moonlight. McKenzie gasped, clutching Sydney’s arm.

  A man stood on the bank of the river, staring straight at them!

  The Photograph

  “Sydney!” McKenzie said in a loud whisper, clutching her friend’s arm. “There’s a man over there watching us.”

  The figure disappeared into the darkness of the trees. Still wearing the goggles, McKenzie scanned the length of the riverbank. But she couldn’t see the man. He had vanished. McKenzie lowered the goggles, shivering in spite of the warm night air.

  Sydney edged closer to McKenzie, staring wide-eyed across the river. Her voice quavered. “Why was he watching us?”

  Anxious thoughts whirled about McKenzie’s mind, and her body trembled as she moved closer to the fire. “I don’t know, and I don’t know if I want to find out.”

  “I’m not staying out here,” Sydney said, her gaze still fixed on the spot across the river.

  “Me neither,” McKenzie said as goose bumps rippled up her arms. “Grab a flashlight, and let’s go.”

  The girls sped up the dark lane that curved around the edge of the woods. The moonlight cast long, crooked shadows on the ground, their flashlights bobbing as they dodged the ruts. Though the lane was only half a mile long, it seemed to go on forever. Finally, McKenzie saw the light Miss Val had left on over the kitchen sink. They raced up the back steps of the house, slamming the door behind them.

  McKenzie flipped on the ceiling light and leaned against the counter to catch her breath. Feeling thankful to be inside, she reached over to the door and flipped the deadbolt. A minute later, Miss Val appeared in the doorway wearing her bathrobe, yawning as her eyes adjusted to the light.

  “What’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Miss Val looked from one girl to the other.

  “We used Kate’s night vision goggles and saw a man looking at us from across the stream,” McKenzie blurted out.

  A worried look passed over Miss Val’s face. “Did you get a good look at him?”

  “He might have had a beard, but I’m not sure. He was too far away,” McKenzie answered. “He was there, and then all of a sudden, he just … disappeared.”

  “There are lots of homes back in the hills. It could have been one of the owners, but you girls sleep here tonight. I’ll go down to the campsite and put the fire out. I’ll leave the tent for tomorrow.” Miss Val hurried upstairs to change and then drove down to the creek.

  The girls sat at the kitchen table waiting for Miss Val to return. McKenzie breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Miss Val’s headlights come back up the lane.

  As she lay in bed that night, McKenzie heard a coyote somewhere in the hills. Crickets and bullfrogs sang their nightly songs. She stared out the window at the moon pasted in the sky, thinking about the events of the evening.

  “Sydney,” McKenzie whispered, leaning up on one elbow. The sound of Sydney’s steady breathing met her ears. McKenzie flopped back on the bed. How can she be asleep already? Her mind whirled with the thoughts of the strange man across the creek. Was he a homeowner from back in the hills, or was he watching them? She finally drifted off into a fitful sleep.

  Early the next morning, just after sunrise, McKenzie’s cell phone rang. “Hello,” she mumbled into the receiver.

  “Hey, McKenzie. This is Shara. I got called in to work with one of the horses, and we have several people on vacation. Would you be able to come in and help for a couple of hours?”

  McKenzie yawned and rolled onto her back. “Sure. What time?”

  “I’ll pick you up in about forty-five minutes. Tell Sydney she can come along, too, if she wants,” Shara said. “Oh, by the way, when I left work last night, I heard several people talking about seeing the mystery rider on a horse. They also heard the rebel yell.”

  McKenzie sat up in bed, suddenly alert. “Did anybody get a good look at the guy?”

  “Nope. Like usual, he got away.”

  After hanging up, McKenzie turned to Sydney, huddled in a ball beneath the covers. McKenzie threw her pillow at her friend. “Hey, wake up. We’re going to work.”

  By the time Shara arrived, the girls had eaten breakfast and were waiting on the front porch. Fifteen minutes later they pulled into the parking lot of the Dixie Showcase. Only a few employees’ cars were there so early, so Shara ushered them in through the employees’ back entrance.

  Shara glanced at the girls’ shoes. “We have to hose down some stalls, and you two will need boots. Why don’t you go check the supply room and meet me at the stables?”

  McKenzie led Sydney in the opposite direction down the hallway. Their tennis shoes squeaked on the concrete floors. The first performance wasn’t scheduled for several hours. Except for a few voices from the stables, the Dixie Showcase building stood silent.

  As they approached the supply room, McKenzie heard a shuffling sound inside the arena.

  What’s going on in there? McKenzie wondered. The workers don’t come in until much later.

  She stepped through the doorway.

  Something is different, but what? McKenzie asked herself anxiously. At first she didn’t see anything, but then she noticed someone had taken down all the United States flags.

  She swept her gaze around the arena and gasped as she recognized the figure on the far side replacing them with Confederate flags!

  “Nat!” McKenzie exclaimed. “What are you doing?”

  Nat turned and stared at the girls. “What are you doing here?”

  “We’re working,” McKenzie answered, walking into t
he arena. “So, you’re the ghost of old Beau Hatfield? Why are you playing these tricks?”

  Nat looked at the girls. For a minute, McKenzie thought he wasn’t going to answer. “Because my great-great-grandpa was a drummer boy in the Civil War. The North was wrong to start that war with the South, so my great-great-grandpa told his grandson, my grandpa Beau Hatfield, to keep the war alive. Now, I’m doing my part.”

  McKenzie looked at Sydney and then back at Nat. Suddenly, she felt sorry for him. “What do your parents think?”

  Nat mumbled as he looked at the ground, “They think I need to forget about the whole thing.”

  “I think they’re right,” McKenzie said softly. “I know it’s hard to forgive people when they’ve hurt us, but I know you’ll feel better. I always do.”

  Nat raked his shoe through the dirt and didn’t say anything. He turned his back to the girls and leaned on the arena railing.

  “Are you going to tell Mr. Stewart you’ve been changing the flags?” Sydney asked.

  Nat shrugged his shoulders and didn’t answer. McKenzie looked at Sydney and sighed. “We have to go to work now, Nat. I guess we’ll see you around.”

  The girls turned and headed toward the doorway. A grim feeling washed over McKenzie, realizing that Nat was upset about something that had happened well over a century earlier.

  “Hey,” Nat called out. “I’ll think about the things you said.”

  McKenzie smiled and waved. She said a silent prayer that Nat would forgive the people who had hurt his ancestors so long ago.

  After the girls finished helping Shara in the stables, she dropped them off at Silver Dollar City to find Miss Val. The older girl promised to pick McKenzie up around 2:00 to take her to work.

  “You girls have until 1:00 to run around,” Miss Val said when they arrived at the basket shop. “Then you can help me out, Sydney.”

  “Oh, good. That gives us several hours to ride the rides and check out the crafters,” McKenzie exclaimed.

  “What do you want to do first?” Sydney asked.

  “I saw an old-fashioned photography booth the other day. We can dress up in old-time clothing and have our picture taken. Do you want to do that?” McKenzie asked as they wandered through the crowd.