Stalk, Don't Run (5 page)

“Whatever Deirdre Shannon wants,” Bess said with a sigh, “Deirdre gets.” She closed the paper as we sulked back into the house.

“I guess Deirdre was right in one way,” I said.

“What?” George asked.

“Mandy, Mallory, and Mia are bigger celebrities than we are,” I said. “Especially here in River Heights.”

We swallowed our disappointment and the rest of Hannah’s cinnamon buns.

A couple of hours later, the four of us piled into Bess’s car for the drive to Camp Athena.

Once we arrived, Bess parked the car outside the camp gate. I was impressed by the two topiaries flanking the gate, trimmed to resemble Greek goddesses.

We filed through the gate and gazed at the campgrounds. There were several wooden bunks and a few larger cabins I guessed were the arts and crafts cabin, the theater, and the mess hall. Maggie seemed interested in checking out the other campers. Some girls, who looked about ten years old, were following their counselor to the tennis court. Another group of girls, dressed in bathing suits, were heading for what looked like a pool on a hill.

“Look,” Bess said. “That’s probably Amy Paloma.”

I followed Bess’s gaze to see a tanned woman with honey-blond hair walking over to us. She wore khaki shorts and a crisp white camp T-shirt. A shiny silver whistle hung around her neck.

“Welcome to Camp Athena,” the woman greeted us. “I’m Amy Paloma.”

She extended her hand to Maggie and said, “I’ll bet you’re Maggie Marvin. Your mom called to say you were visiting today.”

“Hello,” Maggie said, politely shaking Amy’s hand.

“I’m Maggie’s sister, Bess,” Bess introduced herself. “And these are my friends Nancy and George.”

“George?” Amy said, grinning at George. “How I love names that are not gender specific. How progressive of your parents to give you such a strong name as George.”

“Her real name is Georgia,” Maggie said.

George squirmed, as she always did whenever someone used her given name.

“Can we have a tour of the camp?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“Yes, of course,” Amy said. “Follow me.”

The four of us walked with Amy as she proudly showed us around Camp Athena.

“Our bunks are named after Greek goddesses such as Demeter, Artemis, and Diana,” Amy explained.

“What about Aphrodite?” Bess asked.

Amy shook her head. “It’s not that I have anything against the goddess of beauty, but here at Camp Athena we strive first for wisdom and empowerment.”

After showing us the pool and the volleyball and tennis courts, Amy took us to the dining hall. She explained that she hated the term “mess hall”—“Too negative,” she said.

Some campers and counselors were eating an early lunch, chatting as they passed bowls and juice bottles.

“What are they eating?” Maggie asked.

“Veggie burgers and sweet potato fries,” Amy said. “For dessert we have a melon salad with crushed walnuts.”

“Sounds decent,” Maggie said sincerely.

The campers seemed friendly and happy to be at Camp Athena. Three girls were even wearing Casabian Sisters T-shirts.

“I see you have some fans of Mandy, Mallory, and Mia,” I told Amy.

Amy bristled, then spoke. “I try not to encourage celebrity worship here—especially of those sisters—but it’s also important for the girls to express their interests.”

“Look over there,” Bess said, pointing to one of the tables. “Don’t we know that girl?”

I looked to see where Bess was pointing. Sitting at the end of the table was a camper I recognized right away.

“That’s Alice Bothwell!” I said with a smile.

“You mean the future mayor of Malachite Beach?” George said, smiling too. “No way!”

“You know Alice?” Amy asked.

“We met her while we were in California,” I said. “Alice helped us with a huge save-the-beach party back at Malachite. It was her idea.”

“That sounds like Alice,” Amy said. “She definitely has a can-do attitude.”

By now Alice had spotted us, too. Amy motioned to her to come over, and she did, all smiles.

“I
thought
you guys lived in River Heights!” Alice said excitedly.

“What are you doing here, Alice?” I asked. “When we left Malachite, you were still busy cleaning up the beach.”

“My mom wanted me to take a break,” Alice said with a shrug. “She thought Camp Athena would be perfect for me.”

“Is it?” Amy asked.

“For sure!” Alice confirmed. “Even if it is thousands of miles from Malachite Beach.”

“You’re not the only one here from Malachite Beach,” Bess said. “The Casabian—”

George quickly clamped her hand over Bess’s mouth.

“Never mind,” Bess murmured through the hand.

I glanced at Maggie, who seemed to be examining what the campers were eating.

“The food here does look pretty good,” Maggie said. “I thought they’d be serving rabbit food.”

“So not!” Alice said with a chuckle. “We save the rabbit food for our rabbits.”

“You have rabbits here?” Maggie asked.

“Three of them,” Alice said. She looked up at Amy. “Mind if I show Maggie the camp zoo? I already finished lunch.”

“You have a zoo here too?” I asked, surprised.

“Well, a nature center,” Amy said. “I want all campers to appreciate different species.”

Alice accompanied us on our trek to see the animals. I could see her pointing out camp sights to Maggie as they walked a few feet ahead.

“FYI,” I whispered to Bess. “Looks like Maggie made a new friend.”

“
If
she decides to come here,” Bess whispered back. “Fingers crossed.”

When we reached a small hut, we found guinea pigs, rabbits—even a snake coiled up in a Plexiglas tank.

“Whoa!” George said as we gazed at the olive-colored snake with the black bandit mask.

“Don’t worry,” Amy said. “The tank has a solid and very secure lid. The small openings are for ventilation.”

“Sometimes I help the nature counselor feed the animals and clean the tanks and pens,” Alice said.

“Why am I not surprised?” I asked.

Maggie was still staring at the snake, her eyes wide. “Is that a rattlesnake?” she asked.

“Slithers is a Florida cottonmouth,” Amy explained. “They’re totally rare here in the Midwest, so I had her imported from the South.”

“Cool!” Maggie said. “Amy, once I’m a camper, can I visit the zoo whenever I like?”

“As long as it’s on your bunk’s schedule,” Amy said.

“Is there room for me in Alice’s bunk?” Maggie asked.

“We have two bunks for twelve-year-olds, Bunk Diana and Bunk Harmonia,” Amy said. “I don’t see why you can’t be in Bunk Harmonia with Alice, but let me double-check once I’m back in the office.”

“Yes!” Maggie cheered as she and Alice high-fived.

“Does that mean you want to go to Camp Athena, Maggie?” Bess asked.

“Definitely,” Maggie said excitedly. “This place is cool for a boot camp.”

“We don’t use that expression, dear,” Amy said.

We said good-bye to our “sister species” and to Alice, who had to join her bunkmates. Amy walked us through the campgrounds toward the gate. On the way we passed some girls practicing archery. One girl with curly black hair pulled the bow all the way back before letting it go. The arrow landed with a
thunk
on the round target, just barely missing the bull’s-eye.

“Good shot, Trisha!” Amy called. She turned to us and said, “Archery teaches not only skill and precision but safety and responsibility.”

Maggie’s eyes weren’t on the archery practice but on the nearby woods. “Are there bears in the woods?” she asked.

Amy chuckled as she shook her head. “Just some broken-down bunks from an old camp called Green Ridge,” she answered. “The camp closed down decades ago. I’m planning to have the buildings torn down by next summer.”

“Green Ridge,” Bess repeated. “Sounds like the setting in a mystery I just finished reading.”

“Do you like mysteries?” Amy asked.

“They don’t just read mysteries,” Maggie said proudly. “Nancy, Bess, and George
solve
mysteries!”

“Is that so?” Amy asked.

“We’re detectives,” I said.

“The
River Heights Bugle
almost had an article written about them,” Maggie said. “But they were dumped for the Casabian sisters.”

“Thanks for the reminder, Mag,” George said.

“It’s not every day I meet female detectives,” Amy said. “How would you like to speak to the girls in a couple of weeks? I like to have special guests visit the camp.”

“You want us to be the special guests?” Bess asked, surprised.

“Absolutely,” Amy said. “You girls are excellent role models. I’m sure the campers will love hearing you talk about solving mysteries.”

“I’ll have to ask Mr. Safer for a day off first,” I said. “But I’m sure he won’t have a problem if I make up the hours.”

“Then it’s a go,” Amy said happily.

“Yes!” Maggie cheered under her breath.

Once we were at the gate, Amy pulled an envelope from her waist pouch and handed it to Bess.

“Here are some papers for your mother or father to fill out, plus a packing list,” Amy said. “There are no mobile phones allowed at camp. Oh, and don’t forget to pack bug spray, preferably something natural. We have plenty of mosquitoes.”

With that Amy reached down to scratch her ankle. She pulled the top of her sock down, and I noticed a tattoo above her ankle. It wasn’t a rose or a heart or somebody’s name, but a bright yellow sunburst design!

The logo,
I thought, my heart racing.
It’s the same logo from Roland’s Renewal Retreat—and cult!

I
couldn’t stop staring at Amy’s ankle even after she pulled her sock back up. The sunburst logo was one of the reasons we’d started our investigation of the cult in the first place.

When we were on the beach at Malachite, George had stepped on a hypodermic needle. We found out it contained a mind-altering drug Roland used on his followers. The needle had been discarded along with bottles and jars that had the yellow sunburst logo. And now here was that logo again on the ankle of Amy Paloma!

“Nancy, what’s up?” George asked as we walked to Bess’s car.

“Huh?” I said, snapping out of my thoughts.

I glanced at Maggie, happily reading the list Amy had given her. The last thing I wanted to do was spoil her excitement, or even worse—scare her.

“George and I were just talking about the camp we went to when we were kids,” Bess said. “What was it called . . . ?”

“Camp Tree House!” I said with a smile.

“What did you do there?” Maggie asked. “Did you swim, hike, or play volleyball?”

“Actually, we solved a mystery,” I said with a laugh. “We were just eight years old.”

On the ride home, we talked about our old days at Camp Tree House. Gradually, I felt better about the sunburst design on Amy’s ankle, wondering if I might have overreacted, just a bit. There were sunburst designs practically everywhere—even on the bottle of sunscreen on Bess’s dashboard.

Okay. I am not going to obsess about Roland anymore,
I decided.
My job at Safer’s Cheese Shop starts tomorrow—and not a day too soon.

It took me, Bess, and George only a few days to settle into a nice, predictable routine—despite Casabian-mania sweeping through River Heights.

Maggie became a happy camper at Camp Athena. I started my job at Safer’s Cheese Shop, where I quickly learned the difference between Swiss cheese and Muenster. The Casabian sisters settled into their new “regular” jobs too. Mia was working as a barista at the new Three Bean Café on Main Street. Mallory was doing her best at the supermarket cash register. But Mandy had already been fired from the preschool, the pet shop, and even the beauty salon (for refusing to sweep “gross” hair off the floor). According to Deirdre’s tweets, she had the “perfect” job for Mandy, although she didn’t say what it was.

Friday morning I parked my hybrid on Main Street. As I neared Safer’s, I saw a crowd in front of the cheese shop. Was Mr. Safer giving out freebies?

I noticed that the crowd was mostly younger girls, many wearing Casabian Sisters T-shirts. Some tees said,
I’M A MANDY, I’M A MALLORY
, or
I’M A MIA
.

Forget the freebies. The Casabian sisters were probably inside the store, which explained all the fans.

“Excuse me, excuse me, you guys,” I said over and over as I pushed through the crowd. “I work here.”

“Nice try!” a girl with long dark hair sneered. “We said that too, but it didn’t work.”

I glared at the rude kid and the two other girls she was with. Where had I seen them before?

“Nancy!” a voice called.

A police officer who recognized me was holding the door open and waving me inside. I squeezed through the shouting fans, thanked the officer, and burst into the shop at last.