Camp Club Girls: Elizabeth

by Brumbaugh Green, Renae;

  “Dinner!” he said, and everyone laughed.

  The man led them in a dinner prayer. The audience dispersed, and Elizabeth went to the front of the room. She waited politely for Mr. Forrest to finish speaking to the drummer. When he turned to face her, a smile lit his face. “Elizabeth!”

  She smiled back at him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were the conference director?”

  “Ahhhh, I wanted it to be a surprise. I hope you got all settled into your room. Are you making some nice friends?”

  “Yes, sir. My roommate and I met Kristi Conrad and her roommate, Mary-Lynn.”

  “Kristi Conrad…” Mr. Forrest wrinkled his brow. “Is that the young lady who had her father’s guitar stolen?”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth told him. She knew the security officer must have told him all about it.

  “That’s too bad,” he said. “We’ll do all we can to help recover it.” Then a staff member needed his attention, so Elizabeth told him goodbye and went to find her friends.

  Elizabeth, Bailey, and Kristi held their red plastic lunch trays and waited in line. “Have you decided which class you’ll go to first?” asked Bailey.

  “I’m still trying to decide between songwriting and stage performance. I could use some work in both areas,” Elizabeth said.

  “I’m thinking about taking the choreography class, but the costume design seems fun too. What about you, Kristi?”

  The girl jumped when she heard her name. “What? I’m sorry. I didn’t hear the question.”

  Elizabeth’s heart went out to the girl. “That’s okay. Bailey was just wondering what class you’re going to take tonight.”

  “Um, I don’t know. I was supposed to meet with a man who wanted to look at Dad’s guitar. It’s too late to call and cancel the appointment. I guess I’ll just have to tell him about the theft when he gets here. And I’m supposed to meet with three others tomorrow.” Kristi seemed to be talking more to herself than to Elizabeth and Bailey. “I guess I need to call home. This is going to break Dad’s heart.”

  Elizabeth and Bailey didn’t respond since they didn’t know what to say.

  “Beef or chicken?” the lady behind the counter asked them.

  “Beef,” replied Bailey.

  “Chicken,” said Elizabeth.

  Kristi looked lost in her thoughts again, so Elizabeth nudged her. “Beef or chicken?” she asked.

  “Oh, sorry. Chicken,” she responded. The girls filled their trays and found a table near a window.

  “I’m starved!” said Bailey. “All I had on the plane was a tiny little bag of peanuts!”

  As Bailey dug into her food, Elizabeth noticed Kristi hadn’t even picked up her fork. She just stared out the window.

  Lord, I wish there was something I could do for her. Help me know what to say to her.

  “You know, Kristi, we actually have some pretty good leads. And once Bailey and I get the other Camp Club Girls on this case, I feel certain we’ll find your guitar,” Elizabeth told her.

  Kristi offered a weak smile. “Tell me some more about these…Campfire Girls?”

  Elizabeth and Bailey laughed.

  “Camp Club Girls,” said Bailey. “And we’re only the best kid detectives in the country! We’ve got Sydney in Washington, DC; Alex in California; Kate in Philadelphia; McKenzie in Montana; Elizabeth in Texas; and yours truly in Illinois. Since we met we’ve solved…how many mysteries have we solved, Elizabeth?”

  “A lot,” said Elizabeth with a laugh. “Around twenty now. You should never underestimate the Camp Club Girls.”

  “Yeah,” continued Bailey. “Trust us. We’re going to find your guitar. Once we get started on a mystery, there’s no stopping us.”

  Kristi pushed the broccoli around on her plate. “Thanks, you guys. But I don’t think—”

  They were interrupted by a loud, “Oh, there you are!”

  The girls turned to find Mary-Lynn headed their way. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

  The way she spoke, a little too loudly, caused everyone’s heads to turn toward her.

  The girl looked frustrated. She plopped down next to Kristi and said, “I’ve been trying to speak with an agent.”

  Elizabeth’s eyebrows lifted. “Really? Who?”

  “Rick Forrest! You know, the conference director. He represents the Olive Branch Talent Agency, and I’ve been trying to get an appointment with him.” The girl tossed her hair. “Elizabeth, didn’t I see you talking to him?”

  “Uh…yeah. But I was just saying hello. I didn’t even know he’s an agent.”

  “You mean you know Rick Forrest personally?” Mary-Lynn gushed. “You are so lucky!”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “No, I didn’t mean—”

  “Oh, that lady over there looks like she might be a talent scout. I think I’ll go meet her,” Mary-Lynn said, and then she was gone.

  Bailey, Kristi, and Elizabeth looked at each other in stunned silence, and then started laughing.

  “She certainly knows what she wants,” said Kristi. “And she’s not afraid to go after it!”

  Elizabeth looked at the red-haired girl across the room. The woman she was speaking to seemed uncomfortable, but Mary-Lynn didn’t seem to notice.

  “Well, she can’t be trusted,” said Bailey. “She has red hair. And for now, she is our prime suspect.”

  The three girls studied the redhead silently for a few moments, each lost in her own thoughts.

  Elizabeth followed Kristi to the third floor of the building, through the doorway labeled, THE ART OF SONGWRITING. The room was already filling up, and they found seats near the back.

  Bailey had decided on the choreography class. “I even brought my tap shoes, in case I need to practice!” she had said.

  Elizabeth smiled as she thought about it, remembering the talent show at Camp Discovery Lake, and Bailey’s crazy costume. With pink sponge curlers in her hair and cold cream on her face, Bailey had tap-danced her way into first place.

  Kristi pulled out a notepad and pencil and, humming, jotted down notes. Elizabeth was amazed. In the few short hours since their meeting, Kristi had penned three-and-a-half songs. And they were good too. Elizabeth found herself humming one of Kristi’s melodies as she walked from the dining hall to this class. Kristi was truly gifted.

  “Have you had any of your songs published?” Elizabeth asked the girl.

  Kristi smiled. “Before my dad was diagnosed with MS, I used to help him write songs. He always gave me credit too. There are seven or eight published pieces that say, ‘By Joshua and Kristi Conrad.’”

  “Wow. It sounds like you should be teaching this class, not taking it!” Elizabeth said.

  “No. I still have so much to learn,” Kristi said humbly.

  The mumbling in the class faded as a young man in faded jeans and a T-shirt walked to the front of the room. He had a guitar strapped around his shoulders, and he was wearing a faded ball cap backward. His hair was shaved close to his head.

  “Good evening, songwriters!” he said with a grin, showing two deep dimples in his cheeks. When he smiled, he looked like he was about twelve years old.

  Around a dozen or so people were in the room, and the teacher said, “When we write music, we really bare our souls to the world. It would be nice if we got to know each other a little better before we are asked to do that. Why don’t you move your chairs into a circle, and we’ll spend a little time introducing ourselves to each other.”

  After the chairs were moved, the young man instructed the students to share their names, where they were from, and what kinds of music they wanted to write.

  “Tommy, from Alabama. I want to write country music.”

  “Ashley, from New York, and I want to write jazz.”

  “Jeff. I’m from Wisconsin, and I’m not sure what kind of music I want to write. I’m here to learn.”

  When Kristi’s turn came, she said simply, “Kristi Conrad. Tennessee. All kinds of music.”

&nb
sp; The instructor leaned forward and asked, “What do you mean, ‘all kinds’?”

  Kristi smiled. “I listen to all kinds of music, and when I write, I hear different things. The kind of music depends on the message and mood of the song. I can’t really say a certain type of music I like to write. I like all music, if it’s uplifting. If it’s done well.”

  The instructor studied Kristi for a moment, and Elizabeth almost felt sorry for her new friend. Finally, the young man nodded to Elizabeth.

  “I’m Elizabeth. I’m from Texas, and I’ll probably write mostly Christian music.”

  The introductions continued, but Elizabeth sensed the instructor’s eyes on Kristi. Did he know who she was? Did he know how great her dad was?

  Probably so. Everyone in the music business knew who Joshua Conrad was. He was a legend.

  Finally, the songwriting instruction began. The teacher, who introduced himself as Robert Kranfield, was full of information. She remembered reading in the brochure that he was a staff writer for one of the local recording studios.

  “Tonight, we’ll work on a little group project,” he told them. “We’re going to write a song together. Most songs follow a pattern of verse, chorus, verse, chorus, bridge, chorus. That is the easiest pattern for most people to remember. So let’s choose an idea, or theme, for our song.”

  Silence. No one wanted to be the first to suggest something.

  Finally, Kristi said, “I lost something very valuable to me. Had it stolen from me, as a matter of fact. Could we write a song about that?”

  Robert looked at Kristi as if he didn’t know how to respond. His face was an emotionless mask.

  Funny. He told us to bare our souls, yet he’s like a brick wall. Maybe he doesn’t want to influence our own creativity, so he’s staying neutral…

  “What are some other words that come to mind when you think of the loss Kristi described?” Robert asked.

  A few people tossed out some words like grief, anger, sadness, and betrayal.

  “Good,” he continued. “You understand the mood of the song. How will that mood affect the actual music?”

  The girl named Ashley said, “You don’t want to write a sweet, happy melody with sad, hurting lyrics.”

  “Exactly,” Robert agreed. “How would you write the music?”

  “Slow,” said one person.

  “Sad,” said another.

  Kristi spoke up. “I’d write it in a minor key. But I’d write the bridge in a major key, to offer some hope. I don’t like to write hopeless music.”

  Every head in the room looked at Kristi. She clearly knew more about music and songwriting than any other student in the class.

  Robert studied her a long time before answering. Finally, he said, “You sound like one of the greatest songwriters I know, Miss Conrad. He also writes songs filled with hope. Maybe you know him.”

  Kristi looked at her teacher, not sure how to respond.

  “His name is Joshua Conrad.”

  Kristi’s face lit with joy. “You know my father?” she asked. The other students looked to Robert for more explanation.

  “I don’t know him personally,” said Robert. “But I know his music. He is truly one of the greatest songwriters of our time.”

  Kristi beamed with pride, but Robert turned away. Before long, the class had composed a wordless song, with everyone contributing ideas.

  “We’re out of time,” Robert said. “Our next songwriting session will be tomorrow morning, after breakfast. See what kinds of lyrics and melodies you can come up with to share with the class. You’re dismissed.”

  Everyone shuffled chairs and gathered their things. Some of the students wanted to talk to Robert privately, but he didn’t give them a chance. He tossed his things in a briefcase, straightened his ball cap, and strode out of the room.

  Elizabeth caught just a glimpse of a tuft of red curls as he straightened that cap.

  The Camp Club Girls in Action!

  Back in the room, Bailey demonstrated the new dance moves she had learned in her choreography class while Elizabeth tried to send a conference call invitation to the other Camp Club Girls.

  Kristi plopped on the bed and looked at the laptop Elizabeth was holding. “So that thing has speakers, and you can use it like a phone? And all of you can talk at once?” she asked.

  “Yes. If I had my video hookup, we could all see each other as we were talking, but I left that at home.”

  Bailey stopped midspin and said, “Yeah, the cameras are really cool when they’re working. Mine is in the shop right now.”

  “I’d be a little nervous to have a camera in my room,” Kristi said. “What if I forgot to turn it off? That could be awful!”

  “Yeah, you have to be careful with those,” Elizabeth said. “My parents finally let me get one, but I can only use it at the kitchen desk, and I always have to turn it off and cover it with a towel when I’m done. That way, we’re pretty safe.”

  “I have to do that too,” said Bailey. “Once, I left the camera running after I’d been talking to Sydney. I was practicing a new song, and then I heard applause! Sydney had been there the whole time. I didn’t even know I had an audience. But I bowed and blew her kisses anyway.”

  The other two laughed at Bailey’s story. Then Elizabeth sat up. “Speaking of Sydney, I just got a confirmation email from her. She will call in fifteen minutes. And there’s one from McKenzie…she’s in.”

  “So how did you all get together and start solving these mysteries?” Kristi asked.

  “All six of us attended the same summer camp, Camp Discovery Lake. While we were there, one of the camp employees was acting strangely. So we did a little investigating, and we ended up finding a stash of stolen jewels. The employee’s father was in prison for stealing them and selling them. But when we found the jewels, it proved he couldn’t have sold them. So he got out of prison!” Elizabeth told her.

  “That is so cool,” said Kristi. “I can’t believe you all found stolen jewels.”

  “Well, we didn’t actually find them. Biscuit did,” Bailey said.

  “Biscuit? Who is Biscuit?” asked Kristi.

  “Kate’s dog,” said Elizabeth and Bailey in unison.

  “We found Biscuit at camp, and he got to go home with Kate, who lives in Philadelphia,” Elizabeth explained. “Speaking of Kate, she just emailed. She’s in. Now we’re only missing Alex.”

  Kristi rolled over and propped her head on her hands. “Do you really think you can find my guitar?” she asked.

  “Of course we’ll find it!” Bailey exclaimed, doing a pirouette and knocking over the trash can in the process.

  Elizabeth looked at Kristi. “We’ll give it our best shot.”

  After watching Bailey perform a while longer, Elizabeth started punching her keyboard. “Our conference call time starts in two minutes. I’m going to log in.” Soon, they were connected with Kate, McKenzie, and Sydney.

  “Are you having fun at your music camp?” McKenzie asked.

  “Yes!” Bailey answered sashaying across the room.

  “I sure wish I had my webcam so you all could watch the show,” Elizabeth told them.

  “What is Bailey doing now?” Sydney asked with a laugh.

  “She’s demonstrating everything she learned in her choreography class,” Elizabeth replied.

  The other girls laughed.

  “That should be entertaining,” said Kate.

  “Everyone, I want you to meet Kristi. She’s here with us, and she needs our help,” said Elizabeth.

  “What kind of help? Another mystery? Tell us everything!” said Sydney.

  Just then, Alex beeped into the conference call. She sounded out of breath. “Sorry, you guys! I just got home from my gymnastics class. I’m beat! I saw your email, Elizabeth, and called right away. What have I missed?”

  McKenzie chimed in. “Elizabeth’s friend, Kristi is with her. They were just about to fill us in on a new mystery.”

  “I’ll
let Kristi tell you what she knows,” said Elizabeth.

  Kristi seemed hesitant. “Uh…well…I brought my dad’s guitar with me. It’s worth a lot of money because of the type of guitar it is—a handmade Gibson, and also because of who my dad is. He’s sort of a country music legend. I made appointments with several important music people here in Nashville—I was going to sell the guitar and use the money to go to Julliard, if they accept me. I locked the guitar in my trunk and went to register. But when I returned to the car, my guitar case was empty.”

  The girls were silent for a moment as they took in the information.

  “Do you have any clues at all?” Alex asked.

  “Yes,” Bailey chimed in. “We found a single strand of red hair in the guitar case. No one in Kristi’s family has red hair. We also found a ticket stub to the Country Music Hall of Fame.”

  “Not just any ticket stub, though,” said Elizabeth. “It’s a VIP ticket. Those are only given to important people who are on the inside of the country music world.”

  “Interesting,” said Sydney. “It’s still not much to go on. Did you see anyone around your car?”

  “No,” said Kristi. “I took my time registering. I stopped and wrote a song between my car and the registration room…”

  “You stopped and wrote a song…wow. How long were you away from your car?” asked McKenzie.

  Kristi let out a heavy sigh. “Probably an hour.”

  “A lot can happen in an hour,” said Alex. “But the thief probably didn’t expect you to be gone that long. He or she probably worked quickly.”

  “I think first we need to figure out who all knew you had the guitar with you. Kristi, do you think you can make a list?” Kate asked.

  “Sure,” Kristi replied.

  “Then we can do a cross search and find out if any of those people have red hair, and have VIP tickets to the Country Music Hall of Fame,” Kate continued.

  “How many red-haired people are at your conference?” asked Alex. “Just one that we’ve seen. It’s Kristi’s roommate, Mary-Lynn Monroe,” Bailey said in an exaggerated Southern accent.