Stalk, Don't Run (13 page)

And there, gazing lovingly at him in a fluffy white veil, was someone we also recognized.

“Amy Paloma!” Bess gasped.

The caption underneath the photo read, “Marty Malone weds Amy Porter.”

“We know Marty Malone was Roland’s name before he changed it,” I said. “Amy must have changed her name too.”

“Nancy,” Bess hissed. “Do you know what this means?”

I nodded as I remembered the sunburst tattoo on Amy’s ankle. “Amy was more than just one of Roland’s followers,” I said. “She was his
wife
!”

The door slammed open, and Bess and I jumped.

“George, you scared the daylights out of me,” I said. “Is someone coming?”

“No,” George said. “But I found something on the porch you ought to see.”

“We found something too,” Bess said, nodding at the article. “Amy Paloma is—or was—Roland’s wife.”

“His wife?” George exclaimed. She held up an amber medication bottle. “Wait till you see this. An empty bottle of painkillers.”

“Painkillers?” I said, taking the bottle.

“Yeah, now read on the label. Look who the prescribing doctor is,” George said, her expression grim.

Bess and I both read the label. The prescribing doctor was Dr. Raymond!

“Dr. Raymond was the plastic surgeon who altered Roland’s appearance,” Bess said. “So he could hide from the police.”

“Now read who the medication is
for
,” George said.

I turned the bottle until I found another name. My hand began to shake as I read it out loud: “Marty Malone.”

“Roland!” Bess declared, and covered her mouth. “He’s alive, and he must be hiding out in this bunk.”

“And in River Heights,” I said, feeling sick.

“What do you think all those painkillers are for?” George asked.

My eyes darted around while I put the pieces of the puzzle together. Dr. Raymond had performed a lot more than a nip and tuck on Roland—he’d transformed his whole face and hairline—and fast. Maybe too fast.

“Maybe the painkillers are for Roland’s plastic surgery gone bad,” I said. “No wonder the campers kept seeing a guy with a disfigured face.”

“I bet the noises Maggie heard were probably Roland moaning from the pain,” Bess said. “She
was
telling the truth about the monster man.”

“Amy Paloma has been harboring a fugitive. Someone who could harm the campers,” George said furiously.

My heart pounded. The mean girls weren’t trying to get us. Neither was Mr. Safer. All this time it was Roland—the demented cult leader from Malachite Beach!

“Do you think Roland followed us back to River Heights?” Bess asked, her voice panicky. “Do you think he wants to get back at us for blowing the whistle on him and his cult?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” I said. “Whatever the reason, we have to tell Chief McGinnis, and we have to do it before Roland comes back and finds us—”

SLAM!
The door swung open. Bess shrieked.

We whirled around to see . . . not Roland, but Amy. She shone a flashlight in our faces. “What are you doing here?” she screamed.

“Us?”
I shouted back. “I should ask you the same question, Mrs. Malone!”

“What? What are you talking about?” Amy asked.

Bess took the wedding announcement over to Amy, who shone the light on it. She let out a deep sigh.

“What a fool—he would keep that,” said Amy, shaking her head.

“You were once married to Roland?” I asked. “The guy who ran the cult on Malachite Beach?”

“Who almost killed my friends and dozens of other people,” George added.

“Roland and I
were
married,” Amy said. “After we separated, I tried to forget him and start a new life.”

“Meaning this camp?” Bess asked.

“The camp was part of it,” Amy said. “My ultimate goal was to teach healthy lifestyles to young girls. I wanted them to grow up with good self-esteem and stick up for themselves so they wouldn’t end up like me.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

Amy took a deep breath and said, “Years ago, before he started his retreat, Roland was arrested for embezzlement.”

“Yeah, we know all about that,” George said.

“I was part of the crime but managed to escape the law,” Amy said. “Roland did his time, changed his name, and began that sick cult you found out about. As successful as he became, he never forgave me for beating the rap.”

“After all these years, why didn’t you get a divorce? Why are you only separated?” I asked.

“And call attention to myself?” Amy said. She shook her head. “I changed my name too—and my life. I knew Roland would show up someday, but I never expected to see him in River Heights.”

“Neither did we,” Bess said.

“How long has he been here?” I asked.

“Roland turned up in the camp a little more than a week ago,” Amy said, her voice cracking nervously. “At first I thought he came for me.”

“Didn’t he?” I asked.

“No,” Amy said. “He said he came to River Heights to bring down the girls who ruined his life.”

“Us,” I said.

“You,” Amy said with a nod.

“So you went along with him?” George said. “Hiding him in the woods while he stalked and tried to kill us?”

“What else could I do?” Amy asked. “Roland said if I didn’t cooperate, he’d turn me in to the police.”

As sick as Roland was, I could understand why he was after Bess, George, and me. If it wasn’t for us, he’d still be back on Malachite Beach brainwashing his followers and taking their money. But why would he want to hurt Mandy, Mallory, and Mia?

“What did Roland do with the Casabian sisters, Amy?” I asked. “Tell us.”

Amy stared at me. “The Casabian sisters?” she repeated. “What does Roland have to do with them?”

“Come on, Amy,” Bess said with a smile. “Be a good role model and be
honest
.”

“Some role model I turned out to be,” Amy said miserably. “I haven’t taught my campers anything.”

Her eyes darkened when I pulled out my phone. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Calling the police,” I said. “You’re protecting a dangerous criminal and putting young girls in danger.”

Amy walked toward me, but George held her back. When I tried to call, though, I had no luck. “Darn,” I said. “There’s no connection in the bunk.”

I moved closer to the door to try again, but stopped when I heard someone say, “Going somewhere?”

My blood froze at the familiar, sinister voice. I looked up from my phone to see a hideous face covered with blue blotches and crusted scars.

The palest blue eyes glared at me from under a straw hat, the unmistakable eyes of
Roland
.

R
oland towered over me as he backed me up into the bunk. He wore the sickeningly familiar white jacket and a sinister grin on his ruined face.

“I wouldn’t bother calling Chief McGinnis,” Roland snarled. “He doesn’t have a very good record of believing you and your friends.”

“He’ll believe us now,” George said angrily. She caught Bess’s and my eyes. “No way is this jerk holding us hostage. Come on.”

George was the first to charge toward the door. Gathering our guts, Bess and I followed. We made it halfway when Roland reached down to pick up an arrow.

“Guard the door, Amy,” he ordered as he brandished the arrow at us. “Now!”

Amy flitted to the door like an obedient puppy. It was plain to see how scared she was of her husband—and staring at the arrow in Roland’s hand, so was I.

“How did you know about Chief McGinnis?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“I know more about you than you think,” Roland said with a grin. “For instance, I know you don’t really like snakes, you prefer warm weather to freezing-cold freezers, and you’re an excellent driver until your brakes go out.”

“Since you seem to know so much, Roland,” I said, emphasizing his name, “where are Mandy, Mallory, and Mia?”

Roland waved his free hand with a snort.

“Those ridiculous sisters.” He sighed. “They were just a nuisance, something to get rid of so I could focus on my main objective. You.”

“Get rid of?” I said. “As in poisoning them in their house with carbon monoxide?”

Roland shrugged and said, “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

Roland’s words made me queasy. Had he succeeded in getting rid of the Casabians?

“What did you do with them?” George demanded, talking a step toward Roland.

“Get back!” he shouted. “If it weren’t for you, I’d still have my beloved retreat on Malachite Beach, I wouldn’t be looking like a monster, and I wouldn’t be in such pain.”

Roland threw back his head and moaned. As he lowered the arrow, George reached for it—until Roland quickly raised his arm.

“Now I’ve got River Height’s star girl detectives exactly where I want them,” he said with a maniacal grin. “Revenge will be so sweet.”

I held my breath. Roland was holding the pointed arrowhead directly under my eye.

“As a very wise man once said,” Roland went on, chuckling, “garbage in . . . garbage out.”

I was so weak with fear that my knees began to buckle, and I started to black out.

“Drop that!” Amy shouted.

I looked up to see Amy standing behind Roland, a chair in her raised hands.

“I said drop it!” Amy shook the chair. “Or I’ll smash this on your head!”

Roland stared at Amy but did as she ordered. He didn’t notice George reaching out to pick up the arrow.

“In case you haven’t checked, you’re still my wife, Amy,” Roland said. “So don’t do anything stupid!”

“The only stupid thing I did was marry you!” Amy shouted. “You may have had me under your thumb then—but not anymore.”

She looked past a stunned Roland at me. “Go outside and call the police, Nancy,” she said. “Now.”

I nodded and ran to the door. As I pulled it open, I heard an amplified voice crackle through a bullhorn: “Amy Paloma, Marty Malone—come out with your hands over your head.”

I shaded my eyes, blinded by the beam of a powerful flashlight. Three figures stood before the porch: two police officers and Chief McGinnis.

“Come on out, Nancy,” Chief McGinnis said. “Are Bess and George okay?”

“We’re fine,” George said as she and Bess joined me on the porch.

The officers charged inside the bunk, where I could hear Roland arguing. My heart was still racing, although I knew we were finally safe.

“Thanks, Chief McGinnis,” I said. He helped us down from the creaky porch.

“Don’t thank me,” Chief McGinnis said with a grin. “Thank Maggie Marvin and Alice Bothwell.”

“What do you mean?” Bess asked, surprised.

“Turns out Maggie and Alice had seen the camp monster going into the woods and were worried about you,” the chief explained. “They woke some counselors and convinced them to call the station,” he explained.

“Good for Maggie and Alice!” Amy’s voice said.

We turned to see Amy and Roland being led out of the bunk, their hands cuffed.

Roland was struggling against his cuffs. “Officers, I’ve done nothing wrong. Amy is the fugitive. She’s the real criminal.”

“Save it for the station, Marty,” Chief McGinnis said, spitting out Roland’s real name. “We know all about you and your wife. What we didn’t know until now was that you were in River Heights.”

The three of us watched as the officers led Roland and Amy out of the woods.

“I guess I owe you girls an apology,” Chief McGinnis told us, “For accusing you of the Casabian sisters’ disappearance.”

The Casabian sisters!

Roland had never told us what he did to them!

“Chief McGinnis, Roland—or Marty Malone—wanted to get rid of the sisters to get to us,” I said. “He already tried poisoning them with carbon monoxide.”

Chief McGinnis shook his head with a smile. “I spoke to them,” he said. “Mandy, Mallory, and Mia are just fine.”

“What? Where are they?” Bess asked.

“How did you find them?” George asked.

“I’ll fill you in on everything after we book Mr. and Mrs. Malone,” Chief McGinnis said. “In the meantime, why don’t you help the campers and counselors call home? Like Green Ridge, Camp Athena will soon be history.”

Bess, George, and I were too relieved and exhausted to speak as we followed Chief McGinnis out of the woods. I was happy Roland would finally get what he deserved. Secretly I hoped Amy would get some kind of break for trying to start a new life and for saving ours.
That
I would leave to the police and the legal justice system.

Back on the campgrounds, the girls and their counselors were buzzing about the excitement. I caught the eye of Lindsay standing in the crowd with Darcy and Ava. Instead of scowling at us like she usually did, she smiled and gave us a big thumbs-up.

“Are we some kind of heroes?” George asked.

“Here come the real heroes,” I said as Maggie and Alice raced over.

“Good job!” Bess said, hugging and high-fiving her sister. “I believe we have another detective team in River Heights!”