The Sign in the Smoke (Nancy Drew Diaries Book 12) (20 page)

I knew I owed Bella a huge apology. I was still trying to figure out the best way to do it.

The door to Juniper Cabin opened and out spilled my campers, all carrying their sleeping bags and luggage. They threw everything into a pile beside the cabin and I glanced at the camp driveway, where buses were already waiting. A few cars full of parents were lined up too. I couldn’t quite believe it, but my campers were headed home.

The girls came running up to me in a stream, with Maya, who’d been supervising the packing, following behind them.

“Nancy, I need a hug good-bye!” Kiki cried, wrapping her arms around me.

“Me too!” Cece added, running up behind her.

“Thank you for taking care of us!” Winnie said with a grin.

I wasn’t sure the campers understood the full scope of what had happened the night before—and that wasn’t a bad thing, in my mind. They knew that Harper had left camp and I’d gone after her. Deborah had brought Harper, Olivia, and Queenie back to the main camp, where they’d spent the night with Deborah in her safe, locked house. They were all shaken up, but otherwise unhurt. Sam had been brought to the camp nurse, then taken off in an ambulance. She was in a nearby hospital while her parents and the police discussed next steps. Everyone else, including me, Bess, and the rest of the campers, had stayed at the campout site until morning. With the threat removed, Miles saw no reason to move the entire camp back to the cabins in the middle of the night.

The campers had been told that Sam had a breakdown and had to go home. They hadn’t been told about her plot to hurt the girls, or me. I had no problem with that. Knowing wouldn’t make them any safer, and would probably scare them.

I hugged each of the girls in turn. The last was Harper, who stood squinting without her glasses. I gave her the hardest hug of all, not sure what to say to her that could possibly express my gratitude.

“I made you a gift in arts and crafts,” Harper said into my shoulder as I squeezed her.

“
You
made
me
a gift?” I asked, amazed. “It’s me who owes you.”

Harper shook her head. “I could have had a terrible time here,” she said, “but you looked out for me. You helped me get to know the other girls. That’s why I did what I did, Nancy. Not everyone cares as much as you do.”

I felt my eyes tearing up and pulled Harper closer in a hug.

“Here,” she said when I let her go. She pushed a sheaf of papers at me.

It was a small homemade book, with a cardboard cover decorated with ornate illustrations.
CAMP CEDARBARK
was the title. I flipped it open and gasped. The handwritten narrative told the tale of all our adventures at camp—minus the craziest one last night.

Harper looked sheepish. “I finished it yesterday,” she said, “so it leaves some things out.”

“That’s probably fine,” I said with a smile. “Thank you so much, Harper.”

I gave her another huge hug.

“We have to get on the bus,” Harper said, “but can we get your address, Nancy? I’d like to write you letters.”

“Letters?” Cece chuckled. “What is this, 1985? How about
e-mail  
?”

“You can’t draw on e-mail,” Harper said with a shrug.

I handed out little sheets I’d printed up for the campers with my snail mail and e-mail addresses. “Here you go,” I said. “I hope I hear from all of you! I’ll really miss you guys.”

“Me too,” said Maya, handing out her own little slips. The girls took them eagerly and exchanged hugs with her, too.

“Thank you for being such a great counselor and CIT,” Winnie said. “We’ll really miss you both!”

After a bunch more hugs and promises to keep in touch, the girls hefted their bags and took off running for the buses. There, Miles helped them load their luggage in the back and climb on. I waved furiously as they all boarded the steps, then disappeared from view.

I felt a tear trickle down my cheek.

“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” Maya asked, moving over to stand beside me. “We only knew them for a week. A
week
,” she said.

“It feels like forever,” I replied. “And I hope they will keep in touch.”

Maya smiled. “You’ll keep in touch with me, too, right?” she asked.

“Of course,” I said sincerely, smiling.

As we spoke, Janie and Marcie were running over from where they’d been saying good-bye to Bess and George. They both carried their luggage and sleeping bags. Maya turned back toward the cabin and picked up hers, too.

“Are you leaving already?” George asked, stepping up behind me. “You guys aren’t taking the bus, are you? I thought those were just for campers.”

“They are,” Marcie replied. “But Maya’s dad is giving us all a ride.”

“Yeah!” said Maya excitedly. “It turns out we all live within fifteen minutes of each other.”

Janie nodded. “We’ve already made plans to meet up for a slumber party in a couple of weeks,” she said. “We really want to stay in touch after school starts.”

We all hugged our good-byes, and I whispered to Maya that she really had to write me e-mails, or I would cyberstalk her. Maya just smiled and told me I had nothing to worry about—I would get
sick
of her e-mails. I told her that was very unlikely.

Once we had all said our farewells, the three CITs grabbed their bags and ran over to the same cool convertible Maya had arrived in. A man I assumed was her dad was at the wheel, I saw, and he tooted his horn in greeting. All three girls piled in and waved to us as the car drove away.

“Amazing,” said George as we watched them go.

“Truly,” said Bess.

I smiled. “Well, I hope Mini-Nancy, Mini-George, and Mini-Bess become as good friends as we are,” I said. “And I hope their friendship lasts just as long.”

Bess and George looked over at me warmly.

“Hear, hear,” said Bess, raising an imaginary glass.

“However,” George piped up, raising a finger, “I hope that if Mini-Bess comes to Mini-Nancy and Mini-George with the really
awesome
idea that they should all be counselors at a semi-haunted camp in the wilderness, Mini-George and Mini-Nancy will have the good sense to say no.”

Bess feigned an outraged look and swatted George. “Come on! We had fun!”

We all broke up laughing.

“We did,” I agreed, looking over the now-quiet cabins with a sigh, “but it will sure be good to get home!”

Dear Diary,

OKAY, SO TROUBLE DID FIND
me, but it was worth it to get to know my fantastic campers, especially Harper. I’m so happy that she was finally able to settle in and make a few new friends.

I do feel bad for Sam. If only she had realized earlier that hurting other people never makes right an old wrong. Scaring the Camp Cedarbark campers didn’t solve any of her problems! I hope she changes her ways—and that her family and friends will be able to get her the help she needs.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK, GIRLS?”
I called to my best friends, Bess Marvin and George Fayne. “Should we drive with the top up, or down?”

Bess twisted to look back at George, who was sitting in the backseat of the white convertible we’d just rented from Charleston International Airport. “That’s a silly question, Nancy,” George said. “It’s eighty degrees, the sun is shining, and we’re on vacation—put the top down!”

I grinned and pushed a button on the dashboard to lower the car’s roof. The South Carolina sun was a welcome change from the stormy late-summer weather back home in River Heights. “It’s perfect weather for a wedding!” Bess exclaimed, taking a pair of tortoiseshell sunglasses out of her purse.

“It certainly was nice of Charlotte to give you ‘plus two’ for the wedding, Bess,” I said, pulling onto the main road toward town and enjoying the wind blowing through my hair. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t have been able to have this little getaway together.” Bess’s cousin Charlotte was getting married in two days, and she had invited Bess to be one of her bridesmaids. Because Charlotte was marrying a handsome news anchor, the wedding was all over the news and the Internet—everyone was calling it the wedding of the year. George and I were delighted to come along—maybe we’d even be able to squeeze in a little time on the beach!

“I can’t wait for you guys to meet Charlotte,” Bess said. “The girl is so organized, I bet she’s got the entire wedding planned down to the millisecond. I wonder what color she’s picked for the bridesmaids’ dresses? I never got a chance to ask. A warm peach would be perfect for this time of year—or maybe cranberry!”

I could almost hear George rolling her eyes from the backseat. “What does it matter? It could be lime green or neon orange—boys would still be falling over themselves to talk to you.”

“Lime green?!” Bess exclaimed in horror. “Ugh. Well, Charlotte isn’t exactly a fashion bug, but I think she’ll have picked something more suitable than that.”

I shook my head and smiled. Bess and George may be cousins, but they couldn’t be more different. I glanced over at Bess, who looked like an old-fashioned movie star, with her dark sunglasses on and her blond hair tucked neatly back into a silk scarf. Bess had been gushing with excitement about this wedding ever since she got the invitation a couple of months ago. Besides all the hype, both families were fairly wealthy, so it was bound to be quite the elegant affair. And more than that, Bess simply loved the romance of it—the flowers, the dresses, the music . . . everything.

George, on the other hand, couldn’t have been less interested in the idea of attending a wedding. Charlotte was from the other side of Bess’s family, so George wouldn’t know anyone there. Even so, she was all too happy to travel to a new city and check out the sights. Wedding or no wedding—it was an excuse for an adventure. Peeking in the rearview mirror, I spied George taking pictures of the passing landmarks with her smartphone, her short black hair flying in the breeze. She was dressed in jeans and a thrift-store T-shirt—the official George Fayne uniform for everyday comfort.

“Check it out!” George called suddenly. “It’s Rainbow Row!” I slowed the car as we drove up to a line of beautiful row houses painted in pastel colors.

“Ooh, look at that powder-blue one,” Bess cooed. “And there’s a pink one too!”

George madly snapped photos until we’d passed the last house, when I stepped back on the gas. “I was hoping we’d get to see that!” she said excitedly. “Did you guys know that Charleston is the oldest city in South Carolina? People often call it the Holy City because of how many churches there are here.”

“I guess that makes it a really good place for a wedding,” I said, stopping at a red light.

“And because it has such a long history,” George added, “it’s famous for having a lot of ghosts! Even the place where we’re staying is supposedly haunted.”

I raised my eyebrow at this and craned my head to look at George. “Did a lot of web surfing on the plane, did you?”

George smirked and held up her hands in surrender. “Guilty as charged, Sherlock,” she said. “Another baffling mystery: solved!”

I chuckled as we continued driving through the picturesque streets of historic Charleston. George loves to tease, but the truth is, to me, mystery solving is anything but a joke. Back home in River Heights, I’ve gotten somewhat of a reputation as an amateur detective—and over the years I’ve learned that trouble has a way of finding me, no matter where I go.

“There it is!” Bess said, and pointed toward a stately white building up ahead. “The Grey Fox Inn!”

I pulled the convertible into the curving driveway that led to the inn’s entrance, and stopped the car to take in our surroundings. The building had two stories, with wide, columned patios wrapping around the entire first floor. The grounds were taken up with lush, sculptured gardens, dotted with stone bird fountains and overlooked by huge, moss-covered trees.

“It’s absolutely stunning,” I breathed.

“I just hope they have Wi-Fi,” George said, jumping out of the car.

As we were pulling our bags from the trunk, a blue sedan came up the driveway and stopped behind us. A petite brunette popped out of the backseat and squinted at us through black-framed glasses. “Bess!” the young woman said. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here!”

Bess smiled widely and ran over to embrace her. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Bess took the girl by the hand and pulled her toward us. “I want you to meet my very best friends, Nancy Drew and George Fayne—George is my cousin from the other side of the family back in River Heights. Girls, this is my cousin Charlotte Goodwin—the bride-to-be!”

I reached out my hand to Charlotte, who grasped it firmly, looking me straight in the eye. It was strange—given my two friends, I would have thought Charlotte to be one of George’s relations rather than Bess’s. Her dark brown hair was cut in a no-nonsense, chin-length bob, and she wore no jewelry aside from the sparkling diamond on her ring finger. Her somber maroon turtleneck and black pants seemed completely at odds with the light and summery city all around us. “Thank you for coming all this way,” Charlotte said seriously. “I know it’s a long trip from River Heights.”

“The pleasure is ours,” I replied. “Thank you for inviting us to your big day.” I cocked my head as a sweet scent reached my nostrils. “Huh,” I said. “What is that smell?”

“Oh,” Charlotte’s cheeks reddened. “It must be this perfume I’m wearing. It’s too strong, isn’t it? I hardly ever wear the stuff. I can wash it off if you—”

“No, not at all!” I interrupted. “I was just going to say how nice it was.” After her initial delight at seeing Bess faded, I noticed that Charlotte seemed anxious and pale. Was something wrong?

Bess must have noticed too. “You doing okay, Charlotte?” she asked, stepping closer to her cousin.

Charlotte looked startled by the question. “Me? Oh—of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” She paused and wrapped her arms around herself, as if she were chilled even as the blazing sun beat down on our heads. “I just . . . I guess you can never really be prepared for something like a wedding,” she continued in a low voice. “It’s so stressful! Getting all these different people together, hoping they’ll get along. And there’ll always be something that you didn’t plan for—”