Camp Club Girls: Elizabeth

by Brumbaugh Green, Renae;

“I don’t believe it,” Megan whispered.

  Thank You, God, Elizabeth prayed silently. Please let us find the jewels. Marbles. Whatever they are, Lord, please help us find them.

  The three girls climbed out of the van, but the adults didn’t want to get wet. Mr. Phillips handed McKenzie a shovel through the open window. They were splattering through the mud when they realized Ruby Smith was on their heels.

  “I’m going to help. If those marbles are real, I want to be there when they are found,” the woman told them.

  Elizabeth smiled, reached into her purse, and handed her the spade.

  They located the fourth post from the right and started digging. The rain softened the earth, making the digging easier. And messier.

  Thunder continued crashing, but the four females paid no attention. They were so focused on their task that they didn’t notice a large pair of mud-covered cowboy boots approaching.

  “May I give you a hand?” Mark Jacobs’s voice spoke over the sound of the rain.

  Startled, Ruby looked up at him and continued digging. The three girls weren’t sure how to respond to his presence and stopped what they were doing.

  Gently, the man took the large shovel from McKenzie and started digging on the opposite side of the post. His muscles took the shovel deeper into the ground than the girls had been able to dig, and after a couple of scoops, the shovel revealed an old, small tin cashbox. Ruby’s mouth dropped open, and she looked up at the man.

  “I bet this belongs to you,” he said.

  The woman reached down and took the box from the shovel. Her mud-covered hands shook as she opened it. Inside was a velvet bag. Inside that were some papers and a smaller cloth bag with a drawstring tie.

  By this time, Elizabeth’s and McKenzie’s parents had joined them. No one spoke as Ruby Smith opened the bag her mother had buried so long ago. She emptied its contents into her hands, and twelve of the most beautiful, brightly colored marbles spilled out.

  “Oh!” the woman cried. “Oh Mama!”

  Megan knelt in the mud beside her mother and hugged her as they both wept.

  The rest of the group decided to give them privacy and headed back to the van. Jacobs turned to go, but Ruby called out, “Wait! I have so many questions. Where are you going?”

  The tall cowboy smiled and said, “We’ll have plenty of time to talk later. Right now, you enjoy this moment with your daughter and her friends.” He tipped his hat and left.

  Without warning, the rain stopped, and the sun broke through the clouds. The marbles in Ruby’s hands cast a brilliant glow on her face as she looked at her daughter. “We’re going to be okay,” she whispered.

  The group sat around the table at the Big Texan Steak Ranch, drinking in the exchange between Ruby Smith and Mark Jacobs. Even Jean Louise, who was their waitress, had broken the rules and pulled a chair up to the table.

  “I can’t believe Foster Wilson was your uncle. I never met him, though I do remember Mama talking about a nice man she wanted me and Jack to meet,” Ruby told the man sitting across from her.

  “It’s as much of a surprise to me as it is to you. I always knew Uncle Foster fell in love here in Amarillo. I just never knew the whole story,” Mr. Jacobs responded. He looked around the table, and his eyes rested on Elizabeth. “I knew you were on to me, and I’m sorry I made you nervous. When I realized you were after the same thing I was, I just figured you were some detective wannabe. You were always one step ahead of me, though. When I figured out you really knew what you were doing, I began to follow you. Sorry if I scared you.”

  “That’s okay. I’m sorry I thought you were a con m—”

  “Elizabeth!” her mother stopped her.

  Mr. Jacobs tilted his head back and roared. “It’s okay, Sue. She had every right to believe I was a con man.”

  Everyone laughed this time. Then Ruby spoke again.

  “I’ve given this a lot of thought, Mark, and my brother, Jack, and I have talked about it on the phone. He agrees with me, and I don’t want to hear any arguments. There are twelve marbles, and we’re going to split them. Jack and I will take six and the other six belong to you,” Ruby said.

  “Oh no, Ruby, I couldn’t, now that I know the whole story. Those were a gift to your mother. I wouldn’t dream of taking them,” Jacobs replied.

  “Now, Mark Jacobs, you listen. Your uncle would have wanted you to have them as much as he wanted me to have them. You can argue with me all you want, but I’ll get my way. Each marble is worth close to one hundred thousand dollars. We can certainly afford to share them,” Ruby argued.

  Jacobs opened his mouth, but Ruby cut him off. “Not another word!” she said.

  The handsome cowboy leaned back in his chair and grinned. “How do you know what I was going to say?” he asked.

  “You were going to argue with me, I know that,” the woman told him.

  “No, ma’am. I know better than to argue with you; I have the feeling that once your mind is made up, there’s no changing it.”

  “You’re right about that,” Ruby told him. The two bantered back and forth as if no one else were in the room.

  McKenzie nudged Elizabeth under the table, then whispered, “I don’t know why she’s giving him the marbles. When they get married, they’ll belong to both of them.”

  The two girls giggled. “Let’s not rush things,” Elizabeth whispered back. “But they do make a nice couple, don’t they?”

  They turned their attention back to Ruby and the cowboy. “So, what were you going to say?” Ruby asked coyly.

  Jacobs looked her in the eye and said, “I was going to say that I came here looking for a treasure. I believe I may have found one, whose worth is far more than rubies. And her name…is Ruby.”

  The group applauded, then Jean Louise began taking their orders.

  Elizabeth focused her attention on Megan, who was smiling and watching her mother. “You look happy,” she told her friend.

  Megan turned to Elizabeth and McKenzie. “It just feels so good to see Mom smile. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her so happy. And it’s all thanks to the two of you and the Camp Club Girls.”

  Elizabeth glanced at Megan’s mom, laughing at something Jacobs had said. “I’m not sure if we can take the credit for making your mom smile. I think that goes to a certain handsome cowboy,” she told her friend.

  Megan laughed. “He may have something to do with it, but the sadness is gone from her face. Now she won’t have to work so hard all the time. Now she doesn’t have to worry as much about paying the bills every month. And I owe it all to the two of you and your excellent sleuthing skills.”

  “I just wish we didn’t have to leave as soon as we finish our lunch here,” said McKenzie. Then, reaching into her backpack she said, “Oh! Before I forget…these belong to Jean Louise.”

  She pulled out the journals. Then she turned again to Megan. “Thank you for letting me help solve the marble mystery. This has been the best vacation ever!”

  Elizabeth sat at the kitchen table, chin propped on her elbow, flipping through a library book. She loved to read, but reading was all she had done during the past week. One more week, and her grounding would be over.

  “Hello, princess. What are you reading?” her father asked as he came into the kitchen.

  “It’s a book about an Amish girl named Rachel Yoder. I’m a little over halfway through,” she told him.

  He pulled out a chair and sat down across from her. “Did I ever tell you how proud I am of you?” he asked.

  Elizabeth smiled but said nothing. He had told her many times.

  “You are like those marbles you found—rare and precious. I’m proud of you for being so determined to help Megan and her mom,” he told her.

  “It was kind of fun, looking back on it. Maybe I’ll be a detective someday,” she said with a laugh.

  He leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. “Ruby told me that you offered to use your prize money to buy Megan’
s band instrument. That was very generous of you.”

  Elizabeth blushed. She hadn’t meant for others to find out. “I didn’t need the money, and they did. It was no big deal.”

  “God loves a cheerful giver, you know,” he told her, reaching out to pat her hand.

  “I know—2 Corinthians 9:7,” she said.

  Mr. Anderson smiled at his daughter before standing up and mussing her hair. “Like I said, princess, I’m proud of you. By the way, your computer screen shows that you have email waiting.”

  Elizabeth wasted no time in moving to the computer and clicking on her email. It was from Alexis, addressed to all the Camp Club Girls.

  I’m going to the London Bridge! Did you all know they moved it, and it’s not in London anymore? It is at Lake Havasu, Arizona. Isn’t that the craziest thing you’ve ever heard?

  My grandmother is going to be a guest speaker at the London Bridge Festival there, at the end of October. And she’s invited me to go along! I’m so excited!

  Elizabeth read back through the email a couple of times. Lake Havasu. Lake Havasu. Why did that name sound familiar?

  Suddenly, she remembered. “Uh, Dad?” she called over her shoulder. “You know that convention or whatever that you go to at the end of October every year? Isn’t that at Lake Havasu, Arizona?”

  “Yes, it is. It’s during the London Bridge Festival there. Why do you ask?”

  Elizabeth felt the excitement mounting inside her. She was almost afraid to ask her next question. “Any chance I could go with you this year?”

  “Funny you should ask that. I’ve been thinking about taking the whole family. I think you’d enjoy it.”

  Elizabeth lunged from her chair and threw her arms around her father’s neck. “Oh thank you, Daddy! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  Surprised, he laughed and returned the hug. “Whoa! You’re welcome! You want to tell me what this is about?”

  “I will in a minute. First, I have to email Alexis!”

  Camp Club Girls: Elizabeth’s San Antonio Sleuthing

  Trouble on the River

  Splash! Fourteen-year-old Elizabeth gasped as cold water covered her face and clothes. She stood and shook the liquid from her blond hair and tried to wipe it from her clothes before it soaked through.

  “Please remain in your seat at all times,” the riverboat captain reminded her.

  Didn’t he see what just happened? Elizabeth’s mother took her hand and gently pulled her back into her seat, helping Elizabeth brush the water off.

  “What happened?” Elizabeth whispered, not wanting to interrupt the captain’s tour speech. No one else seemed to notice her.

  “It looks like a water balloon. I didn’t see where it came from. We’ll deal with it when the boat stops,” her mother said. Elizabeth spied the small red piece of broken balloon at her feet.

  “But who? Where?” Elizabeth looked at the tourists on the sidewalks. Surely no one would be brazen enough to throw a water balloon right out in the open. The bridge!

  She looked behind her at the bridge they’d just passed. Empty.

  Puzzled, she took the tissue her mother held out to her. Elizabeth’s dad and brother were seated in front of her, and never even turned around. Apparently, no one else knew what had just happened.

  Once again, she looked back at the bridge. This time, she saw three teenagers leaning over the other side. One was wearing a red cap and a plaid shirt. They were pointing and laughing at another riverboat making its way toward them.

  Suspicious. Well, Mr. Red-cap. You haven’t seen the last of me.

  Elizabeth kept her eyes behind her, on the group of two boys and one girl, until a curve in the river blocked her view. Finally, she leaned back and tried to enjoy the rest of the ride.

  When the riverboat pulled to the edge and the passengers were instructed to get off the boat, Robert Anderson turned and smiled at his daughter and wife. “I never get tired of San Antonio. As many times as I’ve ridden this riverboat and heard the same historical facts and the same corny jokes, I love it every time. Hey, what happened to you?” he asked Elizabeth, noticing her soaked hair.

  “Some prankster dropped a water balloon on her,” Sue Anderson spoke for her daughter. “It seemed to come out of nowhere.”

  “I saw who did it,” said Elizabeth. “Or at least, who I think did it. Some teenagers were leaning over one of the bridges right after it happened.”

  Robert Anderson placed his hand on his daughter’s shoulder and grinned. “I’m sorry, baby. That was a mean thing for someone to do. But if they were aiming for a pretty girl, I have to give them credit. Their aim was right on target.”

  Elizabeth crossed her arms. She didn’t see the humor.

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions,” said her dad as he helped her off the boat. “We’ll go right now and talk to the captain. But just because you saw some kids on the bridge doesn’t necessarily mean they’re guilty.”

  Elizabeth nodded, but she wasn’t convinced. She was going to be on the watch for that red ball cap and plaid shirt. She was so caught up in her thoughts, she wasn’t even aware that the captain was talking to her. Suddenly, she realized he was asking her a question.

  “Your parents just told me what happened, young lady. Did you see anything strange or suspicious?” the man repeated his question.

  “Well, not really. Not right away. But when we got down the river a piece, I looked back to where it happened, and a group of teenagers was standing on the bridge. One of them was wearing a—”

  “Did you see them with a water balloon?” the man interrupted her.

  “No, but—”

  The man shook his head. “I’m sorry, miss. Truly, I am. I had no idea. Sometimes people pull pranks on the tourists. But unless someone actually catches them in the act, we can’t do much.”

  “I understand,” Elizabeth told him. But that wasn’t exactly true. She didn’t understand why the man didn’t tell local authorities and the sheriff’s department and the CIA and the FBI and go on an all-out manhunt until those hoodlums were found, handcuffed, and thrown in the slammer.

  Okay, maybe that’s a little extreme, she thought. But only a little.

  “Come on. Let’s head back to the hotel and get you into some dry clothes. Or better yet, put on your swimsuit and we’ll spend some time at the pool,” said Mrs. Anderson, sensing her daughter’s mood. “This time tomorrow, your friend Kate will be here.”

  Elizabeth brightened. “I can’t wait! Kate is so cool—you’ll love her. And she’s bringing Biscuit too. I’m glad Uncle Dan arranged for Biscuit to stay in the room with us.”

  She smiled at the thought of the scruffy little dog she and her sleuthing friends, the five other Camp Club Girls, had rescued at camp. “And I bet she’ll bring tons of nifty little gadgets with her.” And maybe one of those gadgets will help me catch Mr. Red-cap and his friends.

  Later, Elizabeth lounged by the pool, sipping lemonade from a large cup. She didn’t appear to have a care in the world. But her mind was racing with thoughts of water balloons and red ball caps. Her cell phone startled her, beeping to indicate she had a new text.

  It was Kate: JUST ARRIVED @ LITTLE ROCK. WHERE ARE you?

  Elizabeth tried to think of where Little Rock was. Oh, Arkansas! she realized. Only two states away!

  The phone beeped again.

  Kate: YOU THERE?

  Elizabeth smiled. She carefully texted back: RELAXING BY POOL IN SAN ANTONIO.

  After a moment, Kate’s reply came: DON’T HAVE TOO MUCH FUN. WAIT FOR ME. WE’LL ARRIVE IN OUR VAN AT 3 TOMORROW.

  Elizabeth smiled. Less than twenty-four hours and she’ll be here, in the flesh! She typed in: CAN’T WAIT!

  A shadow covered her, and she looked up to find her mother. Taking the lounge chair beside her, Mrs. Anderson shook her head and laughed. “I’ll never understand you kids and those text things. You have free long distance on that phone. Why don’t you just make a phone call?”

/>   Elizabeth laughed too. “I guess that would make more sense. But texting is fun. Kind of like reading code.”

  Mrs. Anderson leaned back in her chair and flipped open a magazine. “To each her own,” she said. “By the way, there’s a puppet show this evening at the Fiesta Noche del Rio. Your father and I are taking James to it. You’re welcome to come, but since Uncle Dan will be on duty, you can stay here if you want.”

  “Thanks, Mom. I’ll think about it,” Elizabeth said, reaching for her lemonade. She sipped the cool drink then leaned back and closed her eyes. She was almost asleep when she gasped, covered in cold water for the second time that day.

  James giggled and continued splashing her from the pool. “Come in the water with me, Bettyboo!” he taunted.

  “I told you to stop calling me that!” she demanded. A moment later, she was in the pool with her little brother, splashing and laughing at his antics.

  “Cannonball!” Mr. Anderson yelled out just before hitting the water with a gigantic splash.

  “Oh Robert! You got me all wet!” cried Mrs. Anderson. “I guess I’ll have to climb in there too just to protect myself.”

  The Andersons spent the rest of the afternoon splashing in the pool. When they left the pool for dinner, they were famished.

  Elizabeth pushed back from the table at the riverside café and eyed the pile of corn husks on her plate. “Those were the best tamales I’ve ever tasted,” she said.

  “You say that every time we eat here,” Mr. Anderson reminded his daughter, his eyes twinkling.

  “It’s true. I’m glad we come to San Antonio often. Maybe someday we can convince the chef to give us the recipe,” she replied.

  Mrs. Anderson laughed. “Oh, I think it will take more than the recipe to duplicate those tamales. It takes years of practice to learn to cook like that.”

  “Well, I’m young. I can learn. I’ll practice as much as it takes, if it means I can have these tamales anytime I want them,” Elizabeth said.

  “Here, Beth. You can have the rest of mine. I’m full,” said James.