“I don’t think so,” Maya replied, staring out the window. “I think you’d need a pair of flippers to play in this! And maybe gills.”
Gills made me think of what had happened at the lake yesterday, and a little shiver ran up my spine. As of today, I was officially on the case. And I meant to figure out who—or what—was responsible for first Deborah, then me and two of my campers being pulled underwater.
When we went to the mess hall for breakfast, Miles announced that after we were done eating, the campers would divide into two groups and spend the morning watching a DVD. My group, along with Bella’s eleven-year-olds, would stay in the mess hall. The other kids would run next door to the crafts barn.
“Aw, man,” Cece grumped.
“It’s supposed to clear up this afternoon,” I said, trying to sound cheerful. “Maybe we can fit the soccer game in then.”
Cece looked dubious, but after a second or two she shrugged and finished her eggs.
Meanwhile, I was sensing an opportunity to get some information. If everyone was going to be cooped up in the mess hall, that might give me a chance to talk to Deborah and Miles about everything they knew.
All I needed was a favor from another counselor. Unfortunately for me . . . the only group that was supposed to stay in the mess hall besides mine was Bella’s.
I excused myself and strolled over to her table once I’d gobbled up my eggs and toast. “Hey, Bella,” I said casually as I drew up behind her chair.
She turned, looked at me, and glared. “Oh, it’s you,” she said, clearly unimpressed. “One of the Perfect Triplets. Well, what’s up? Have I violated the spirit of the camp somehow by wearing a not-cheerful-enough shirt?” She gestured down at her T-shirt, which was for some metal band called Eminent Distress.
“Um, no. I actually wanted to ask you a favor. I could pay you back any time.”
Bella narrowed her eyes. “Why would I do you a favor?” she asked.
“Because we’re both counselors?” I asked. “Because if you do, maybe I could watch your bunk sometime to give you a break? I mean, that might be nice.”
Bella looked from me to her campers, who were all crowded around one girl’s chair. The girl was holding up a letter she’d received and giggling. “Okay,” she said. “I’m listening.”
“I’d just need you to keep an eye on my bunk this morning,” I said. “It shouldn’t be hard. Maya will be there, and they’re all just watching a DVD.”
Bella frowned. “And what will you be doing while I watch them?” she asked.
“Research,” I said tersely. When Bella kept staring at me and I didn’t elaborate, she seemed to get the hint that I wasn’t going to say more.
“All right,” she said finally. “But you owe me!”
“Noted,” I said before quickly spinning around and spotting Miles, who was setting up a movie screen in front of the stage. I darted away from Bella’s table and walked briskly over to him.
“Miles,” I said, and when he turned, looking confused, I went on, “I was just wondering whether it’s okay if Bella looks after my campers this morning. She says it’s fine with her.”
Miles raised his eyebrows. “While they watch the movie? Sure. But what will you be doing?”
“Weeeeeeell,” I said, drawing out the word as I tilted my head, “I thought maybe I could talk to you and Deborah about what happened at the lake before Camp Larksong closed. Privately, of course,” I added hastily.
Miles’s expression changed suddenly, from mildly curious to completely closed off. “Oh,” he said, turning back to the movie screen. “Deborah told me you’re some kind of amateur detective. Is that right?”
“Yes,” I said. “But mostly, I just want to help you guys get to the bottom of what’s going on at this camp.”
Miles turned back to me, wearing an expression of surprise. “What is going on at the camp?” he asked. “Besides some silly pranks and an issue with reeds in the lake?”
“I—well—” I stammered, wondering if Miles was serious. “I thought you had the lake trimmed of reeds,” I said. “And the girls who were pulled under—they said they saw a figure.”
Miles snorted. “Including you, isn’t that right?” he asked.
I nodded slowly, feeling like I’d been caught somehow. But I had seen a figure. . . . “Including me.”
Miles turned away, fiddling with the screen again. “It’s fine with me if you want to chat with Deborah,” he said. “She’s in the office. But I don’t think I have any information that can help you. I’m not convinced there’s a mystery to solve, Miss Nancy Drew.”
I wasn’t sure how to react. I’d gotten what I wanted—hadn’t I? But why was Miles being so strange?