by Amy C. Blake
Several eyebrows shot up.
“I’m really not.” Levi slapped both hands against his thighs. “I just can’t stand waiting around to see if something bad’s going to happen to Sara. If any of you have a better suggestion to deal with the problem, feel free to share.”
He glared at each of them in turn, not moving on until each eye had met his.
Tommy cleared his throat. “Um, question: what if you’re wrong?”
Trevor muttered, “That’s what I’m saying.”
Levi slid him a dirty look then breathed in deep. “Okay, fine. It’s a fair question. Maybe, just maybe, Hunter isn’t Deceptor. But what if I’m right and we do nothing? We go home and Sara’s left with this evil creep, closer than ever to snatching her. If we do what I say, worst case is we’ve wasted a little time and energy finding out who isn’t after Sara. No big deal. But if I’m right . . .”
Silence followed.
Finally, Steve spoke up, his face a blotchy pink. “I’ll guard the southwest stairwell. I can do a birdcall if Hunter or anybody comes back.”
Yes! Levi flashed him a huge smile.
Tommy sighed. “Yeah, okay. I’ve got the other end, but we’ll have to think of some other signal because I couldn’t imitate a bird to save my life.”
Levi turned his smile on Tommy. “No problem. Just whistle instead.”
“Well, I’m sticking close to Sara.” Trevor tapped himself on the chest. “I’m not really comfortable with her being out near the forest with some monster on the loose—whether he’s really Hunter or not.”
Levi chose to ignore the doubt in Trevor’s words. “Good idea.”
Sara shook her head. “No way, you guys. Nobody’s doing anything that might get them hurt, not on my account. It’s not worth it.” She turned anxious eyes on Levi. “You know how Hunter’s friends are—they’ll throw you off the roof if you get in their way.”
Levi forced lightness into his tone. “If they don’t catch me, they can’t throw me off the roof.” He touched her arm. “Seriously, Sara, I’ll be careful. We all will. Don’t worry.”
She didn’t look convinced.
“You boys are bound to have problems with Suzanne and Jacqueline.” Monica’s nose wrinkled. “I’ll have to shadow them until you’ve finished your search. If they suspect something, they’ll tattle to Hunter.”
“Well, girl,” Lizzie said, resting a perfectly tanned arm across Ashley’s shoulders, “guess that leaves you and me to distract any of Hunter’s henchmen who try to slip away early.” She batted her lashes. “We’ll think of something, I’m sure.”
Ashley nodded, her lips a thin line.
The snap of a twig whirled Levi around.
Miss Nydia stood no more than three feet away. “Are you children canoeing today or not?”
“Sure,” Sara said brightly. “Let’s go, everybody.”
As Levi trailed his friends, his gaze flicked to the elf hall chaperone. Had she overheard their plans?
Chapter 33
The Search
After breakfast the next morning, Levi’s friends split up to take their posts. He hid in the first floor bathroom and waited for the building to clear. At exactly five after nine, he left the bathroom, scanning the corridors for any stragglers. Not spotting anyone, he darted to the northwest staircase and listened. Silence. Taking the stairs two at a time, he raced to the fourth floor and nearly ran over Tommy huddled outside the door to Hunter’s hallway.
Levi stopped to catch his breath. “Any sign of trouble?”
“Nothing.”
Levi eased open the door and peeked into the corridor. With a thumbs-up for Tommy, he strode down the hall, grinning. He’d done it . . . entered the lion’s den without getting bit.
As he yanked open the first door, he realized he’d made a mistake—a stupid mistake.
He had no clue which room was Hunter’s.
He looked from one four-poster bed to the next then stepped back into the corridor and examined the four other identical doors. A soft groan seeped from between his lips. Now he had to search five rooms, possibly twenty beds, to find Hunter’s.
Wait. If he knew which room belonged to the chaperones, he could narrow things down. And maybe, like on his hall, there was an extra room not used by campers, like the one Albert was staying in. Feeling somewhat better, Levi left the first door with the plan to check out the entire hallway before deciding which rooms to give a more thorough search. He opened the second door. Dirty socks, messy beds. Definitely belonged to campers. The third was locked, which meant it must belong to the Drakes. The fourth was so spotless he figured it had to be empty, but the fifth had stuff thrown around like the first two.
Levi began a systematic search of the fifth room. He looked under the beds at all the junk and opened each wardrobe, seeking a tag or scrap of paper with a name on it. He checked in each nightstand drawer for loose papers. Nothing of Hunter’s. It was the wrong room.
He scurried down the hall to the second room and began a systematic search there, only to conclude after fifteen wasted minutes that it was the wrong room also. He groaned. The door he’d opened first was the right one after all. Why hadn’t he started there? With a frustrated sigh, he stomped back into the first room and to the nearest bed. Moving stuff around underneath, he spotted a suitcase tag: MARTIN SERGE.
“Finally.”
He recognized the shirt wadded up on the next bed. Hunter’s shirt. Hunter’s bed. He tore into the wardrobe and found nothing but clothes. Rifling through the nightstand produced nothing but old homework papers and a stash of candy bars.
A glance at his watch dampened his armpits. The wrestling matches wouldn’t last forever. Was there nothing here? Desperate, he dropped to his knees and shoved his hands between the mattress and box springs. His left hand brushed against something solid. He wedged his fingers around it and yanked. It was that washed-out purple book Hunter had stuffed into his backpack the first day in the cabin. Why would an old book be important enough to hide under the mattress?
Sitting back on his heels, Levi peered at the cover. Cracked gold lettering read, KRISTIANNA FAE MORGAN.
Brow furrowed, he opened the book. The spine crackled, and the pages felt like they might crumble beneath his fingertips. Dust tickled his nose. Biting back a sneeze, he squinted at the faded loopy handwriting:
June 10th, 1886
Dear Diary,
So begins my sojourn far from home. I still find it difficult to believe Mother and Father allowed me to continue my education here this summer . . .
Levi gave his head a quick shake. 1886? Why was Hunter hiding some dead girl’s diary?
Hang on, maybe it wasn’t so much the diary he was hiding. Maybe he’d tucked something between the pages.
He flipped through the brittle pages. Halfway through, a shaft of sunlight illumined the words, that Prince boy. Levi froze, heart skipping, as he bent nearer the page. Was it talking about him? Couldn’t be. It was written way before he was born.
A creak sounded behind him. Shifting the book out of sight, Levi swiveled, still crouched on the floor.
Greg closed the door behind him. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the little runt, Levi Prince.” He cracked his knuckles, sending chills up Levi’s spine.
Wary eyes on Greg, Levi gave the diary a quick shove toward the bed. He could only hope it was out of view.
Greg swaggered a few paces nearer.
Levi scrabbled to his feet and waited with his hands loose at his sides.
“What’re you doing in here, huh? This ain’t your room.”
“Uh.” His brain scrambled for a good excuse. “I thought you were wrestling.” He bit the inside of his cheek. Idiot! Why not just announce he was trespassing? Now all Greg had to do was tell Mr. Dominic he’d caught him trying to steal something, and Levi would get kicked out of Camp Classic for good.
“So that’s how it is, huh? When you didn’t show up at the match, Hunter thought you might be up to something.” Greg too
k another step. “That’s why he had me throw my first match.” His face reddened. “I don’t like to lose.”
Levi backed into a bedpost. Maybe Greg wouldn’t turn him in after all. Maybe he’d toss Levi out the fourth floor window. Think, Levi, or you’re dead! Levi glanced wildly around the room for an escape.
Greg the Hulk blocked the way to the door. The path to the bathroom was full of obstacles. Not that going in there would help, not unless he wanted to flush himself down the toilet. That was not an attractive option.
Levi sized up Greg’s broad shoulders and meaty fists. The toilet looked easier to deal with than him. There was no way Levi could beat this guy in a fight.
Levi heaved a sigh. Lord, help me. His only chance was to talk his way out of this one.
“So, Greg,” Levi said as casually as he could manage, “do you plan to throw all your events or just the ones Hunter tells you to?”
Greg halted mid-stomp. “What’re you saying?” His furious glare reminded Levi of the angry bull with red swirling eyes in those old Bugs Bunny cartoons.
Levi widened his eyes. “I only wondered why someone so obviously superior at wrestling and other, um . . . contests of physical strength, would obey someone like Hunter.” He shrugged. “It makes you wonder if he was trying to get you out of the running so he could win.”
When Greg frowned, his thick eyebrows merged into one.
Levi silently thanked God that Greg was a mental midget. “Ah, well, if you don’t mind playing Hunter’s puppet while he gets all the glory . . .” His sigh alone should’ve won him an Academy Award.
“Hunter’s puppet?!” Greg’s voice boomed so loud a notebook from Martin’s nightstand crashed to the floor. “I ain’t nobody’s puppet!”
Greg stormed from the room. Levi listened as his thumping footfalls ended with a door slam. Levi followed slowly, checking right and left for anybody else who might want to beat him up.
Then Levi stopped dead at a horrible thought. “Tommy!” How bad a beating had Greg given his roommate? He ran to the door and snatched it open. A bruise-free Tommy blinked at him.
“Did he come by you?” At Tommy’s blank stare, Levi whirled around. “Oh, no, Steve!”
He ran back along the corridor, Tommy at his heels. Steve wasn’t at his post. Levi barreled downstairs, too worried to answer Tommy’s anxious questions.
Halfway between the fourth and third floors, they ran into Steve racing up. Monica halted a step behind Steve.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” Steve’s sweaty face flamed. “Did he find you? Did he kill you?”
“He found me, but I’m okay.”
Tommy glanced between them. “What happened?”
“I didn’t chicken out, I promise.” Steve wrung his hands, his eyes watering like he was about to cry. “I heard a girl calling my name from downstairs, and I thought it was Lizzie or Ashley so I went to check.”
Tommy tapped Levi on the shoulder. “Hello? Guys? A little information?”
Steve didn’t look away from Levi. “I saw a classroom door open on the third floor, and when I went inside to check it out, somebody slammed the door on me. I heard somebody laughing outside, then it got quiet like they left.”
“It was Suzanne,” Monica spoke up. “I was following her until she started up the stairs, then I hung back.” Her mouth quirked into a sheepish smile. “I didn’t want her to see me. By the time I got near the third floor, I heard a door slam and laughter. And I heard Steve pounding.” She turned to Steve. “Sorry I didn’t stop her.”
Steve shook his head. “It’s not your fault she tricked me. Again.” He studied his oversized feet. “I’m so stupid.”
Levi patted Steve’s shoulder. “It’s okay, really. I never thought you’d chickened out on me.” He cocked his head. “Lucky for me Greg has a big ego and a small brain.”
Steve half-smiled. “Find anything up there?” He pointed upstairs.
Tommy huffed. “That’s what I want to know, but nobody tells me anything.”
“I did, actually—” Levi smacked himself on the forehead. “Oh, no, I left the diary under Hunter’s bed.”
“What diary?” Tommy said.
Levi jogged up a few steps.
Monica grabbed his arm. “You can’t go back. Greg’s bound to have told Hunter you were trespassing in their room by now. We need to get away from here. Besides, we’ll be late for the canoeing event if we don’t run.”
Levi cast a glance upstairs and groaned in frustration. What choice did he have? He followed Monica downstairs, shoulders drooping.
All that danger, and he had nothing to prove Hunter’s true identity to Mr. Dominic.
Chapter 34
Camp Classic Olympics
Levi and the others skidded to a halt at the river as the first group climbed into their canoes. Scooping up life vests, Tommy and Monica joined their partners, Sara and Lizzie, in canoes. Levi smiled at Sara, hoping to erase the concern in her eyes so she could focus on the race. She and Tommy actually had a chance of winning this thing. Unlike Levi and his partner, Ashley.
Levi joined his friends on the riverbank to wait his turn in the second heat. Though he knew Hunter hadn’t chosen this event, probably because he was still in the bad graces of the canoeing instructor after paddling off with Levi that day, Levi searched the crowd for him anyway. When he didn’t see Hunter or any of his henchmen, Levi frowned. He’d been sure Hunter would be here making fun of Levi during the race.
Pushing aside worries over what Hunter might be up to, he stumbled along the bank with the crowd and cheered for his friends. Monica and Lizzie took the lead early on and easily won the race. Sara and Tommy took second, both pairs earning slots in the final race.
Trevor and Steve were in the next group, along with Levi and Ashley. When the starting whistle sounded, he and Ashley surged forward, stroking in a relatively smooth rhythm, but they soon fell behind and wound up in third. Surprisingly, the tiny kid Luke from his floor and a girl named Christine from the girls’ hall came in first, with a pair of boys from Hunter’s floor—Bradley and Derrick—coming in second. Steve and Trevor came in last because Steve tipped their canoe, dumping them both in the water.
Levi, Ashley, and a soaked Steve and Trevor cheered themselves hoarse for their friends in the next round. Monica and Lizzie took the gold. Luke and Christine got the silver, while Sara and Tommy took the bronze. Bradley and Derrick didn’t look happy with last place.
On the way to lunch, Levi told the others about finding the diary.
“That’s just disturbing, y’all.” Lizzie’s nose crinkled. “Why would he keep some dead girl’s diary in his bed?”
Levi shrugged. “I don’t know, but it has to mean he’s Deceptor. There’s no reason a boy from this century would hide a thing like that.”
“I’m more concerned about why your name’s in it.” Sara lowered her voice to a whisper, her eyes trained on Levi. “You’ve got to go to my dad. Maybe you’re in more danger than I am.”
Levi shook his head. “It’s got to be about some other guy named Prince, somebody who lived nearly a hundred and fifty years ago. That handwriting was so faded there’s no way it was added in the last thirteen years. Besides,”—he threw up his hands—“I left the diary. I’ve got nothing to show him.” He couldn’t believe he’d been so idiotic.
They were still arguing over what to do when they reached the castle, but as they neared the dining hall, an unsettled feeling crept across Levi. “I think I’m gonna run upstairs before lunch.” He turned to his wet roommates. “You going up to change?”
“I’m too hungry to climb all those stairs,” Steve said. “I’ll air dry.”
Trevor shook his head hard, raining water droplets over everybody. “I’m good now.”
Lizzie slugged him. “Neanderthal!”
“What?” Trevor demanded, earning a laugh from the others.
Rolling his eyes, Levi headed for the stairs. Before he’d climbed more than a h
andful of steps, he heard raised voices from the other staircase. As soon as he recognized the voices, he sat down and ducked to make sure his head wouldn’t show over the banister.
“Don’t ever disobey me again.” Hunter’s icy tones sent a shiver up Levi’s spine. “If you do, you’ll regret it.”
“Oh, yeah, what’re you gonna do about it?” a voice Levi recognized as Greg’s snarled back.
“To start with, I’ll have to report to the director that you copied Suzanne on every exam you took.” Hunter clucked his tongue.
“But then I’ll get kicked out,” Greg whined, “and they won’t let me come back next year.”
Hunter snorted. “You must not be as stupid as you look.”
“Who would do stuff for you then?”
Next came the clack of heels on the foyer floor, followed by Hunter’s short bark of laughter. “Do you really think I’ll have trouble getting idiots like you to help me? Maybe you are as stupid as you look.”
Levi glanced over the banister in time to see Greg’s neck redden. Once the two disappeared around the corner, he stood and ran up the steps to his hall, Hunter’s words raising vague fears in his mind.
When Levi opened his door, he gasped. It was a complete wreck—much worse than anything his roommates had ever done. Wardrobes were thrown wide with shirts and socks dangling out. Papers littered the floor, drawers hung open, pillows and blankets lay in crumpled heaps. He picked his way through the mess and peered into the bathroom, also a disaster with strewn towels, spilled shampoo, and unraveled toilet paper. Whoever had trashed the place was gone now.
Levi turned toward his bed. Though he knew he’d left it in his bottom nightstand drawer, his Bible now lay open upside down on his bed. Stifling a groan, he crossed the room, picked it up, and smoothed the crumpled pages. As he returned it to the drawer, a breeze blew through the open window and picked up several scraps of paper from his bed, scattering them. Levi caught a few pieces.
His Camp Classic invitation. Ripped to shreds.
Levi’s fist closed over the pieces. He knew just who’d done this: Hunter Jacobson, Deceptor in disguise.
