Strawberry Summer (8 page)

“Hey, you’re not going to sleep already, are you?” asked Richard.

“Sorry, but the glittering lights have taken their toll,” Susan said with a laugh. “I’m wiped out. Even my creaky old cot is beginning to sound inviting.”

Alan took Chris’s hand. “Well, at least let us walk you home.”

“Good idea,” Richard agreed. “Then I can use my magic wand to scare away the ghosts you saw before, Chris.”

“What ghosts?” Suddenly, Alan was very serious.

“Oh, it was nothing. At least, I
think
it was nothing. I was, um, a few hundred feet away from everybody else earlier tonight, during the show— actually, right by the arts and crafts building. And, well ... I know it sounds silly now, but ...”

“It doesn’t sound silly at all. What did you see, Chris?”

“Well ... I’m not really sure. Just some kind of movement. Something white, moving behind the trees. And I heard something, too. A footstep or a branch breaking ... really, it could have been anything.”

“It probably was nothing,” Alan said uneasily. “Just the same, I think I’ll mention it to my folks, if you don’t mind.”

The foursome headed up the path, toward Cabin Four. Dozens of others were also streaming uphill, joking and laughing as they went back to their cabins after an exhilarating evening. Still, they were among the last to straggle home. Behind them was nothing but silence and the blackness of night.

Suddenly, Richard stopped. He gripped Susan’s arm tightly. “Wait a second. What was that?”

“I didn’t hear anything.” Nervously, Susan looked around. “What did it sound like?”

“I’m not sure ... maybe it was nothing. It’s just that all of a sudden I had this creepy feeling that we were being followed.”

“Wish I’d brought along a flashlight,” Chris muttered. She was aware of how dark it was in the woods, especially since the lights of the dining hall, far behind them, had just been turned off. And the four of them must have been walking slowly, because everyone else seemed to have moved on way ahead.

They were totally alone.

“I heard it again! “This time Richard’s voice was a whisper. They all stood frozen, listening, unable to move. “Do you think we’re being followed?”

“Naw, that’s ridiculous.” But the expression on Alan’s face, totally drained of blood, said that he didn’t really think it was ridiculous at all.

They stood still for a full minute—but heard nothing. It was Chris who finally broke the silence.

“Listen, I think that instead of running away, we should go after whoever’s following us. Or whoever’s hiding in the woods.”

“You mean
now?”
Richard gulped. “In the dark?”

His fearfulness made her even braver. “For heaven’s sake! How on earth will we ever get to the bottom of this if we don’t take the bull by the horns and go after
whoever it is who’s doing all these things to Camp Pinewood?”

“Chris is right,” Susan agreed. “We can’t just run away.”

“Okay,” said Alan. “If that’s how everybody feels, why don’t we break up into two couples and take a quick look around? This area isn’t that big. If there really is somebody hiding in the woods right now, we should have no trouble finding him.”

Richard was all ready to ask, But what do we
do
if we find him? when the four of them heard a loud noise that made them all jump.

“Somebody just slammed a car door,” said Alan. “Whoever was here is now on his way out.”

“Let’s follow him!” cried Chris. “Quick, where’s the pickup truck?”

Alan led the way. The others followed him, hanging on to one another to keep from tripping over a stone or the root of a tree in the unfamiliar darkness. They scrambled into the track—Alan and Chris in the cab, Susan and Richard in back.

“Leave the lights off,” Chris warned as Alan turned the key in the ignition. For once, the battered old truck started right up. “That way, they won’t realize they’re being followed.”

“Hey, you’re pretty clever, you know that?”

Chris laughed nervously. “I’ve seen a lot of detective stories in the movies. Plus I’ve read every Nancy Drew mystery ever written!”

Alan’s pickup hurried along the dirt road for a few hundred feet. He had an advantage over anyone else driving that road; every square inch, every dip and pothole, was familiar to him. Even with only the light of the moon and the stars to help him see, he managed to maneuver his truck quickly and with ease. Before long, they spotted a car up ahead.

“There he is!” Chris whispered hoarsely. “He’s turning right, onto the main road. Let’s follow him! But stay back, so he can’t see us.”

“I’ll have to turn on the headlights...  .”

“I know. But hopefully he’ll think we’re just another car, traveling this road behind him.”

Alan drove slowly, staying a few car lengths behind. The other car neither speeded up nor slowed down—a good sign, Chris concluded. He didn’t seem to suspect that he was being followed.

Then he signaled a right turn and eased off the road. Chris leaned forward in her seat, peering through the windshield.

“What’s that? Where is he stopping?”

Alan groaned—then laughed. “We’re out of luck, I’m afraid. That happens to be the Okie-Dokie Inn, our neighborhood tavern. Unless you’re willing to go inside, I’m afraid this is where our chase has to end.”

Sure enough, as they drove by, Chris saw that it was indeed a restaurant and bar. And given the dozen or so cars parked in front, it was impossible to tell which car was the one they’d been following.

“Dead end,” she sighed. “Might as well turn around and go home.”

As Alan drove into the parking lot, Chris took a closer look at the Okie-Dokie Inn. It was a seedy-looking establishment, really a small white-shingled house with peeling brown shutters that had been converted into a tavern. A red neon sign advertising one particular brand of beer blinked on and off in its main window. There was something sad about that little roadside inn, Chris thought.

But as Alan put the truck in reverse, preparing to back out of the parking lot once again, his headlights passed over another building, right behind the Okie-Dokie. It shared the same parking lot—yet she hadn’t noticed it before. It was long and flat, with several separate entrances, like a motel. They reminded her of doctors’ offices, or one of those buildings that housed small businesses. What was most interesting, however, was the fact that for one brief second, Alan’s lights illuminated what looked like a man.

A man who was wearing a white shirt.

Chris glanced at Alan, wanting to see if he, too, noticed the man headed toward one of the doorways in the office building. But he seemed intent on studying the rear-view mirror as he backed out, onto the main road.

Something stopped Chris from saying anything to him. Instead, she decided to keep her observation to herself—at least for now.

And then, all of a sudden, he said, “I’m kind of glad we lost that guy, Chris. We don’t know who he was or what he wanted.... He could even be dangerous. I know we all got caught up in the moment back there, but from now on I think we should leave the sleuthing to people who know what they’re doing. I’ll tell my parents we spotted a trespasser and that we followed him here. Maybe they’ll just let it pass ... or maybe they’ll call in the police. But this kind of thing is definitely out of my league.”

Chris knew then that she had made the right decision. Alan was probably right; he wasn’t the one to do the “sleuthing.” No, it was something that should be left to the experts. To the masterminds. Those clever people who could put their heads together and outsmart the bad guys.

She made a firm resolution then. She and Susan would get started on it first thing the very next day.

Later that night, when all the lights around camp
were out and Sam and Linda’s even breathing indicated that they were both sound asleep, Chris called a powwow with her twin.

“Sooz, we have to talk,” she announced, careful to keep her voice low enough that their cabinmates wouldn’t wake up.

“I had a feeling you’d suggest that sooner or later.”

The two girls were lying in their cots, pushed together so that they could talk softly and still hear each other. Outside the cabin, the night was black and silent, broken only by the occasional glimmer of a firefly and the rhythmic chirping of crickets.

“What did you think of our little ‘chase’ tonight?”

Susan thought only for a second. “First of all, I think the man we caught lurking in the woods and then making a quick getaway in his car probably had something to do with the disappearing chairs. And possibly some—or all—of the other things that have gone on around here during the last few summers.”

“I agree,” Chris interjected. “I mean, I don’t think he was just somebody who happened to wander into Camp Pinewood for the evening. For one thing, he seemed to know his way around a little too well.”

“Right. Besides, he must have hidden his car behind some trees or something. Otherwise, Mr. Reed or Alan or somebody would have realized sooner that he was hanging around.”

“Good point. What else?”

“Second, I noticed that there’s more to the Okie-Dokie Inn than meets the eye. Mainly, some kind of office building, right behind it. I have a feeling that the phantom we were chasing tonight could well have ended up in one of those offices.”

Chris’s face lit up. “Sooz, I can’t believe you said that! You know, as Alan was turning the car around in the parking lot, I saw a man walking toward one of the doorways! And he was wearing a white shirt!”

“A white shirt—-just like the ‘ghost’ you saw before, during the counselors’ variety show!” Susan was growing so excited that she was ready to bounce right out of bed. “Well, then, there’s only one thing for us to do. Tomorrow, one of us has to go back there and investigate.”

“Exactly what I was thinking. Our first step is to find out who has offices back there....”

“And what kind of business they’re engaged in.”

Chris thought for a minute. “How are we going to get there? I didn’t really notice how far away it was. It was hard, in the dark....”

“Walking distance, I’m sure. After all, we were only on the main road for two or three minutes. And Alan was driving pretty slowly.”

“That’s true. Now all we need is a way for one of us to sneak away.”

“That could be tough.” Susan was pensive for a moment. “You and I both have classes to teach in the morning. You have Beginners’ Swimming at nine, right? And I have an arts and crafts group at ten. Do you think an hour is enough time to get over to the Okie-Dokie and do some snooping around?”

“Maybe ... maybe not. But I have a better idea.”

Even in the pale light of the moon, Susan saw in her twin’s brown eyes a mischievous gleam that she recognized only too well. “Uh, oh. What have you got up your sleeve, Christine Pratt?”

“Only a harmless little scheme.”

“I’m afraid to ask....”

“Listen. How about if right after breakfast I sneak away to the Okie-Dokie to see what I can find out. You, meanwhile, pretend to be me from nine until ten, and teach my swimming class. And then, at ten, you can go on to teach arts and crafts. That way, I’ll have plenty of time.”

“Great—except for one small problem.”

“What’s that?” Chris could see no flaws in her plan.

“Chris, how can I teach swimming to a bunch of little kids? I’m not qualified to do that!”

“Can’t you come up with some clever solution?”

When she saw the look of dismay on Susan’s face, she added, “After all, you always have in the past. You’ve pretended to be me before, and you always came up with ways of getting around these sticky situations.”

“ ‘Sticky situations’? You call twenty little kids who can’t swim splashing around a lake a ‘sticky situation’?”

“Come on, Sooz. Where’s the old Pratt ingenuity? Don’t tell me you can’t come up with
something.
Why, I’d be disappointed in you if you couldn’t!”

Susan cast her twin a rueful glance. “Well, if you really think that’s the best way to go about this, I suppose I can think up a way to entertain a bunch of eight-year-olds that enables them to keep their noses above water. I’ll sleep on it.”

“Great. See, I knew you could do it! Now, here’s what we’ll do. I’ll sneak away right after breakfast, while everybody’s still in the dining hall. You dress in something neutral, something either of us would wear....”

“How about jeans and a Camp Pinewood T-shirt?”

“Perfect. I’ll meet you here at the cabin at eleven o’clock, no matter what. Two hours ... that should give me enough time to find out
something.’“

The two girls were silent then, each one lost in her own thoughts, gradually drifting off to sleep. Just as Chris was about to doze off, she heard Susan say, “Hey, Chris?” in a barely audible voice.

“Yes, Sooz.” She was surprised her sister was still awake.

“Promise me one thing, okay?”

“Sure. What?”

“The next time there’s some investigating to be done on this thing, it’ll be my turn to go sleuthing. To help out. Okay? I mean, I don’t want you to end up doing all the work yourself. After all, I want to do something to help the Reeds, too.”

Chris chuckled softly. “Sure, Sooz. That’s only fair, right?”

Both girls drifted off to sleep, satisfied that they were doing something to help.

The fact that they might be getting in over their heads never even occurred to them.

* * * *

The next morning, Susan awoke with a feeling of dread—mingled with gleeful anticipation. Then she remembered. Today she was going to pretend to be Chris. But only for an hour. She would have to switch gears quickly, becoming Susan again without missing a beat.

Over breakfast, she and Chris were quiet. They had dressed the same, wanting everyone at camp to see that for a change they looked identical. In fact, several campers and counselors commented on how unusual it was for them to be wearing the same clothes.

“Just a coincidence,” they replied with a smile, glad they had chosen such simple outfits, something that they both might wear and feel comfortable in.