Secret at Mystic Lake (11 page)

I scrambled up onto the dock and ran down toward the cabin, soaking wet, cold, and dripping. The closer I
got, the more clear it became that the cabin was uninhabited. There was no car parked nearby, no bike. The windows were dark; no sign of life inside.

Still, I was quiet as I snuck up on the small porch. I didn't want to startle anyone inside. And if Henry was nearby but somehow hadn't spotted me yet, I didn't want to attract any attention.

I felt for the doorknob and automatically tried to turn it. The latch easily gave way and the door pushed open.
Really?
I wondered, staring at the tiny sliver of the dark front room that was now exposed.
Maybe we're so far out in the wilderness, they don't think it's necessary to lock their door?

I stepped inside. If they didn't lock their door, they must have a phone for emergencies—right? That was just good common sense. I could only hope they had a landline.

I looked around. There was just enough moonlight reflecting off the lake and through the window for me to see that I was inside a small kitchen. There was a sink below a window, a small fridge, and a two-burner
stove. My stomach rumbled, and it occurred to me that there might be some food in the cabin, but first I wanted to find a phone.

There was a door off to the right that seemed to lead to a small living room. I walked toward it, and just as I passed over the threshold I was suddenly blinded as the lights in the living room went on.

I felt a chill go up my spine. I blinked, trying to make my eyes focus in the sudden bright light. I could just make out two figures sitting on a small plaid couch.

“Hello, Nancy,” said a familiar voice.

IT SEEMED LIKE IT TOOK
forever for my eyes to focus. When they finally did, I wondered if I was seeing things.

“Caitlin!”

My tour leader smiled, tossing her long blond ponytail. “Aren't you a clever little thing, Nancy? Too nosy for your own good. I'd say you're a kindred spirit, a future overachiever, but I wouldn't want to wish my life on you.”

I shook my head, then turned to the figure sitting next to Caitlin. Wait a minute.

“Zoe? How did you get here so quickly?”

Caitlin laughed, and Zoe smiled as she looked from Caitlin to me. “I knew a shortcut. And, honey? You're not exactly ready for the Olympic canoeing team. You never did catch on that we know each other, did you?” Zoe asked me, a faint smile on her face. “So maybe it would have taken you a little longer to figure out everything. But we couldn't be too careful.”

Figure out everything . . . wait. “You faked your own disappearance?” I asked, turning back to Caitlin. “But—why? Your life seems . . . perfect.”

Caitlin rolled her eyes at me.

“What?” I asked. “You graduated with this crazy high GPA and you're going to Yale on scholarship in the fall!”

Caitlin shrugged one shoulder. “It's not like I wanted to give all that up,” she said, sniffing. “I just needed a break, okay?”

“From?” I asked, still utterly confused.

“From the sheer effort of being me!” she exclaimed. “Working so hard all the time. Being perfect. Making
sure everything goes according to plan. Taking care of my parents, making them happy, so my brother has time to loaf around and do whatever he does.” She sighed and blew some hair out of her face.

Zoe elbowed her. “I think it's all too clear what he does,” she said, making a face, then laughing.

Caitlin groaned. “Oh, don't remind me.”

So Henry . . . I struggled to understand. “Wait a minute. Was Henry in on it?”

Caitlin laughed. “As if! No, Henry was part of the reason I needed to get away.”

I raised my eyebrows, silently asking for more information.

She sighed. “Listen. Henry and I are twins, but we couldn't be more different. Since we were tiny babies, it's always been this way: I'm the good one. He's the lazy one. But the thing is, everyone loves Henry, so it doesn't matter.”

“And that makes you . . . mad?” I asked.

Caitlin glared at me. “Of course it makes me mad! Wouldn't it make you mad?” She shook her head. “All
through school, I'm up late studying, he's up watching dumb videos on his computer and hanging out with his stupid friends. I work all summer to save money for college, he goes to surfing camp on my parents' dime. And now I'm going to Yale on scholarship and paying for books myself, but he somehow convinced our parents to bankroll his six-month backpacking trip through Europe. How does he do it? And why can't I get away with it?” She sighed again.

“So your coleading this tour with him and disappearing,” I began, “was your way of framing him? To get revenge?”

Caitlin stood up, holding out one hand to me. “No, no. I mean, not exactly. I wanted it to look like he did it for a while. I wanted him to feel bad, to wish he'd treated me better.” She paused. “What happened was, last spring I went to this weeklong camp for high-achieving girls. And that's where I met Zoe.”

I glanced at Zoe, surprised. She smirked.

“Don't look so shocked, Nancy. I actually started my first business—a manicure salon that makes house
calls—when I was just fifteen. I really don't like camping, but that doesn't mean I'm totally useless.”

I nodded. “Of course not. Um . . . how does that relate to Caitlin disappearing?”

Caitlin smiled at Zoe. “Well, Zoe here, she saw how crazed I was about everything and how hard I had to work and how miserable I was. She was the one who told me, ‘Honey, you need a break. Life doesn't have to be this hard.' So I started opening up to her, talking about my life and my family and everything that's going on. She and I started talking about how I could get a few days off for myself. So when my parents asked me if I'd let Henry colead this bike tour with me—since I needed a coleader anyway—I said sure. And as I was planning it, and Henry wasn't helping me one bit, I started thinking, Hey, what if there were a way to use this tour to show everyone what a screwup Henry is? And in the process, I realized, I could get a little vacation.”

I took a deep breath. “A vacation?” I asked. “That's what you're calling your . . . disappearance?”

Caitlin nodded. “I was going to come back in a few days. Claim I'd bumped my head on my way back from the bathroom, got a little disoriented, wandered off, then lived off the land until I could find the ranger station.” She smiled. “Genius.”

I frowned. “And the satellite phone? The missing tents, the food?”

Her grin widened. “I took them all and stashed them in a hiding spot in the woods. When I left, I wanted to make the tour look like a total disaster. Look how useless Henry is! He doesn't even know where the satellite phone is! I even spent two weeks mocking up a fake map of the Mystic Lake area, so you guys could get completely, hopelessly lost before you'd find help. Then I slashed all your tires at the stream, just to drive the subject home.”

I couldn't believe all this. “What about your job with Adventures and Company?” I asked. “When the tents went missing, Henry said something about you wanting them to hire you next summer.”

Caitlin laughed. “Oh, I couldn't care less,” she said.
“I'm sure an all-star student like me won't have any trouble finding a job. But I wanted Henry to feel good and guilty when he'd completely messed up this tour, in addition to losing his sister.”

I shook my head. “Do you realize that Henry and Dagger have been fighting each other all day about who had something to do with your disappearance?”

Caitlin laughed, looking delighted, and turned to Zoe.

“It's true,” Zoe said. “Henry came up with this whole theory about how Dagger used a fake name to kidnap you or something. I kind of fed into it. And it just so happens that Dagger travels with this crazy knife. Henry almost got into a fistfight with him over it.”

Caitlin's cheeks turned a tiny bit pink. “Wow,” she said. “That's kind of sweet. I didn't know Henry had it in him.”

So Dagger really had nothing to do with it—he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I was silent, my mind reeling. Something was still
nagging at me. “Did you and Henry really fight right before you disappeared?” I asked. “Something about a text message?”

“Ah, the text message fight!” Caitlin said with a laugh. “Yeah. I may have neglected to mention—as if I didn't have enough ammunition to set this whole plan in motion—about two weeks before we left, I intercepted a text message to Henry talking about the insane amount of debt he's racked up gambling.”

“Gambling?” I asked.

“Betting on horses at the racetrack.” Caitlin nodded. “He owes like, five or six grand at this point. So stupid. Anyway, I purposely picked a fight with him before I took off. We both woke up early that morning, and I wanted someone to hear us arguing, to place more suspicion on him. But when I tried to yell at him about this text message, the blockhead barely responded. He yelled back a couple of times and then was like, ‘Whatever, Cait.' ” She paused, fuming. “Can you believe that?” she asked. “I mean, he's too lazy to fight properly.”

I nodded. It was all coming together in my head, forming into a clearer picture. Dagger had heard them fighting—but Henry probably felt guilty about his gambling debts, which might be why he'd yelled at Dagger for bringing it up.

Henry really had nothing to do with Caitlin's disappearance, or the other sabotage of the tour. He was guilty only of being a lazy, somewhat troublemaking brother.

And Dagger had nothing to do with any of this. He only had the misfortune of having changed his name, liking early morning meditation, and carrying a hunting knife.

Now I became dimly aware of both Zoe and Caitlin staring at me.

“It was the perfect plan,” Zoe said.

Caitlin nodded. “The only problem,” she added, not taking her eyes off me, “was you.”

“Me?” I asked.

Caitlin nodded again. “You wouldn't shut up. You kept asking questions. Who did this, who did that, did
you really see this, what about this.” She scowled. “You were kind of going in circles so far, true, but sooner or later you were going to figure this out.” She looked at me with what seemed like grudging admiration. “I'm an overachiever too—I know the type,” she said.

I swallowed, not sure what to say. “Thanks?”

Zoe nodded. “Before Cait took off, she left me a little present. A satellite phone of my very own. This allowed me to get in touch with her if anything came up. So today, when we stopped by the stream, I went into the woods and called her. I told her you were asking too many questions; something had to be done. We decided to grab you tonight.”

Caitlin tilted her head to the side. “Unfortunately, you were a much faster runner than we thought,” she said with a sigh. “And once you got to that canoe out on the lake, we knew it was just a matter of time till you found my little hideout here.”

I shook my head. “But wait—I heard Henry saying ‘Gotcha' right after you screamed, Zoe,” I pointed out. “Where did that come from? And why?”

Caitlin smirked. “Show her, Zoe,” she said, gesturing to Zoe's pocket.

With a smug grin, Zoe pulled out her smartphone and clicked on the music icon. Then she selected an MP3 and hit play.

“Gotcha, sis! April Fool's! Ha-ha, you have to admit, that was a good one.” Henry.

Caitlin giggled. “It's amazing what you can get someone saying when you record their conversations with you for, like, three months. I knew it would come in handy sometime.”

My head was still spinning. “But why?” I asked. “If you were just getting me out of the way . . .”

“Our plan was to conk you over the head with a rock and drag you to the shed outside before you woke up,” Caitlin explained.

I stared at her, waiting for some sign that she was kidding, but she gave none.

“We'd keep you here until I was ready to give myself up. But just in case you got loose, we figured it was a good idea for you to think that Henry was
behind the whole thing. You know, in case you made it to the ranger station.”

“Speaking of which . . .” Zoe reached back for something leaning against the coffee table, then held it up. It was a huge, rusty shovel. “We should probably go ahead and introduce you to your home away from home for the next few days.” She raised the shovel menacingly.