by Shari Barr
© 2011 by Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Edited by Jeanette Littleton.
Print ISBN 978-1-60260-401-8
eBook Editions:
Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-60742-441-3
Kindle and MobiPocket Edition (.prc) 978-1-60742-442-0
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted for commercial purposes, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without written permission of the publisher.
Scripture taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.
Cover design: Thinkpen Design
Published by Barbour Publishing, Inc., P.O. Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683, www.barbourbooks.com
Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.
Printed in the United States of America.
Dickinson Press Inc., Grand Rapids, MI 49512; April 2011; D10002783
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Missing!
“Yeee-iiikes!” McKenzie screeched. The amusement park’s Giant Swing launched her seven stories high through barn doors and into the blue sky.
“Woo-hoo!” Sydney cried, clutching the bar across her lap.
McKenzie’s stomach felt like it leaped into her throat. Her curly auburn ponytail whipped her face. The ride, which was housed in a red barn, swung like a clock pendulum, rising and falling. Back and forth the swing soared, its riders screaming.
When the swing sailed high above the barn, McKenzie caught a quick view of Silver Dollar City, a theme park in Branson, Missouri. Far beneath her, the ground swayed, making her dizzy. The lush Ozark hills surrounding the park seemed to rise and fall.
Whooosh! The swing dropped backward until McKenzie was almost hanging upside down. Her stomach tingled with each rise and fall. She gripped the lap bar so tightly her knuckles turned white.
The swing flung the group of riders back and forth until McKenzie thought she would throw up. Finally the swinging slowed and soon halted.
McKenzie’s knees felt like wet noodles as she slipped beneath the safety bar and tried to stand. “Wow, was that ever cool!”
Sydney beamed, her white teeth a contrast against her skin. Her brown eyes flashed beneath dark lashes. The cornrows laced with tiny rainbow-colored beads in her short black hair clinked as she swung her head. “I thought I was going to fall out on my head,” she said with a laugh.
The girls stumbled to the ride’s exit along with the crowd of other riders. Laughter and chattering voices filled the air. The rumble of the PowderKeg roller coaster thundered in the background.
“We have to go on that!” McKenzie exclaimed, watching the cars streak along the rails, twisting and turning as the riders shrieked. “But we probably won’t have time today. I have to head to the Dixie Showcase and get ready for the show this afternoon.”
“I can’t wait to watch you,” Sydney said. “Aren’t you nervous?”
McKenzie nodded. Though she’d performed in front of thousands of people at rodeos, the Dixie Showcase was different. People from all around the world came to Branson to watch the Civil War horse performance. McKenzie’s job was to wear a southern belle dress and ride a horse around an arena. While the audience feasted on a meal, she and other performers warned the rebels that the Yankees were coming.
“I’m not as nervous now as I was two weeks ago when I first started, though,” McKenzie answered. “It’s getting easier all the time. I am so glad Mom’s friend Miss Val invited you to come visit me for the week. We’ll have so much fun.”
A warm summer breeze ruffled McKenzie’s hair. Overhead, the leaves rustled in the treetops. Flowerbeds sprouted in rainbow colors around the tree trunks. Shops built to look like log cabins lined the maze of walkways. Inside the shops, tourists could buy all kinds of souvenirs and handcrafted items.
“Branson is such a cool town.” Sydney stepped into a jewelry shop to look at an earring display. “And I just love Silver Dollar City. I’ve never been to a theme park where pioneer arts and crafts are made. I feel like I’ve stepped back in time to the 1800s.”
“Except for the rides,” McKenzie said, picking up a pair of dangling hoops. “They’re definitely not 1800s.”
“Neither are these.” Sydney grabbed a pair of wire earrings embedded with red, blue, and green stones. She held them up to her ears. “How do they look?”
McKenzie looked up. “Great. They’re definitely you.”
“I’m getting them.” Sydney pulled a handful of bills from her jean shorts pocket. She handed them to a man wearing old-fashioned black pants, suspenders, and a white shirt.
“We’d better head to the basket weaver’s shop. Miss Val is probably ready to start training you after she takes me to the Dixie Showcase.” McKenzie glanced at her watch.
Sydney grabbed her change and the bag. Then the girls headed down the old-fashioned Main Street, past the general store. When they reached the basket shop, they inched around the crowd of people gathered inside. A young man sat on a wooden stool weaving baskets with thin strips of wood.
“Hey, girls!” a familiar voice called out.
McKenzie looked to the back of the shop. A middle-aged woman approached them, wearing a long brown dress and a faded yellow sunbonnet hanging around her neck.
“Are we late?” McKenzie asked Miss Val, her mother’s friend from college who had recently moved to Branson.
“Right on time.” Miss Val wiped her hands on her stained white apron. Turning to Sydney, she said, “Are you ready to help me in the basket-weaving demonstration?”
“I’m ready.” Sydney bounced on the tip of her toes.
“I thought you were taking me to the Dixie Showcase.” McKenzie traced her finger across the top of a burgundy and blue basket hanging from a hook.
“I’ve had to change plans.” Miss Val tucked a strand of long reddish-blond hair behind her ear. “I have to cover for Andy while he takes a lunch break. I found someone to give you a ride to the Showcase.”
McKenzie opened her mouth to speak, but a tall, thin teenaged girl walked up beside them. Her long, curly blond hair was pulled up in a high ponytail. Her orange T-shirt hung loosely over her faded blue jeans. She smiled shyly at the girls and then turned to Miss Val.
“Hi, Shara,” Miss Val said, smiling at the teenager. “Girls, this is Shara Hayden. Her mother is a friend of mine. Shara, meet McKenzie Phillips and Sydney Lincoln.”
After the girls greeted Miss Val’s friend, she continued, “Shara just started working at the Dixie Showcase helping out with the horses. She’s offered to give you a ride, McKenzie.”
McKenzie couldn’t help feeling a little envious of Shara. She absolutely loved horses. Though she had been chosen to perform at the Dixie Showcase, she would have been just as happy to clean horse stalls. Back home on her parents’ farm in Montana, she helped take care of their small herd of horses.
Shara turned to McKenzie. “I’ll be glad to help out whenever I can,” she said with a smile. “Are yo
u ready?”
McKenzie nodded. She turned to Miss Val, hanging baskets on display hooks. “Are you still planning to pick me up after the performance?”
“Yes, Sydney and I are coming to the show, and then we’ll find you afterward,” Miss Val agreed.
McKenzie followed Shara out of the shop while Miss Val led Sydney into the back room to change into a pioneer costume.
Shara led McKenzie through the crowd of people bustling about. McKenzie sniffed the fragrant smells of the flowers and trees lining the walkways. Her stomach rumbled as aromas wafted from the concession stands. Kettle corn, saltwater taffy, funnel cakes, barbecue sandwiches. She suddenly remembered how hungry she was.
Since both girls had to work through the supper hour, they stopped at a sandwich shop for hamburgers. They ate while walking toward the parking lot.
“What brings you to Branson?” Shara asked, licking a bit of ketchup off her lower lip.
“The Dixie Showcase has hired kids from across the nation to be a part of their performances. Since I was crowned Montana’s Junior Miss Rodeo Queen, I was offered the job. It sounded like a lot of fun, so Mom and Dad let me come down and stay with Miss Val for a month. They’re going to drive down from Montana at the end of the month and take me home.” McKenzie took another bite of hamburger.
“Wow! You’re a real rodeo queen? Is your friend Sydney working at the Showcase, too?” Shara sipped from her soft drink cup.
“No, she just flew down from Washington DC last night to stay at Miss Val’s house with me. She’s going to work with Miss Val and some of the other crafters at Silver Dollar City for a week. Then she has to head back home.” McKenzie shoved the last of her sandwich in her mouth and tossed the wrapper in a trash can beside a split-rail fence.
“How did you girls meet? You live so far from each other,” Shara said, moving through the crowd of people.
“We met at a place called Camp Discovery.” McKenzie nearly collided with a little boy running by, blowing an old-fashioned wooden train whistle. “Four other girls shared a cabin with us, and we all became really good friends. Even though we live in different parts of the country, we keep in touch all the time. We call ourselves the Camp Club Girls. We solved a mystery while we were there. Now, we often solve mysteries together.”
“Seriously?” Shara asked, peering at McKenzie. “You’ve solved mysteries? Real mysteries?”
“Yep,” McKenzie said with a grin. “My friend Bailey and I solved a mystery back in Montana. Another friend, Alexis, and I solved one on a trip to Oregon. Of course, the other Camp Club Girls help investigate by finding clues. We call and e-mail each other to help solve the mysteries.”
“Wow. I’m impressed.” Shara looked at McKenzie as if she had a question. But then she shook her head and turned away.
Leading the way through the park’s exit, Shara headed to the far end of the parking lot. She stopped beside a dented red compact car and unlocked the door. McKenzie slid into the front seat, flinching at the hot gray vinyl beneath her legs. She sniffed at the pine tree–shaped air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror.
Minutes later, Shara pulled onto the winding mountain road and headed toward Branson. Cars jammed the streets, and tourists walked up and down the sidewalks. They passed miniature golf courses, go-cart tracks, and all sorts of souvenir shops. Dozens of hotels and theaters lined the streets. They drove past the Toy Museum, the Titantic Museum, Ripley’s Believe It or Not, and too many hotels to easily count.
“Where are you staying while you’re here?” McKenzie asked, gazing out the window.
“I’m staying with some friends of my parents. I just came up from Arkansas and started working at the Showcase. I’ll be helping take care of the horses and their stalls. Then a couple of times a week, I get to wear a southern belle dress and parade around town to drum up business for the Showcase.”
“I absolutely love horses,” McKenzie said. “My family has several horses on our farm back in Montana.”
Shara turned up the air conditioning and stuck a country and western CD into the player. “I’m going to be working more hours than I planned. I was counting on having a lot of free time. I guess you could say I’m kind of on a mission.”
“What kind of a mission?” McKenzie asked, glancing at Shara.
For a minute, McKenzie thought she wasn’t going to answer. But finally, the older girl spoke. “I’m looking for my uncle. My family hasn’t heard from him in years. We’ve heard rumors that he moved to Branson, but we’re not sure. Now, I probably won’t even have time to look for him.”
“Can’t you just look in the phone book and see if he’s here?” McKenzie asked, adjusting the air conditioning vent.
“We’ve tried that, but if he’s here, he apparently has an unlisted number.” Shara pulled off the street into the back parking lot of the Dixie Showcase. “He might even have changed his name.”
“Why doesn’t anyone know where he is?” McKenzie stared at Shara.
Shara pulled into a parking stall and left the engine running. Turning to McKenzie, she answered, “Uncle Reggie went into business with my grandpa as a lawyer. Grandma and Grandpa Ford were thrilled when he decided to join the firm. My Uncle Todd is a doctor, Uncle Phil is a pilot, and my mom is a judge—all well-paying careers. One day, Uncle Reggie said he didn’t want to be a lawyer anymore. He quit Grandpa’s firm so he could go back to his one passion—art, especially woodcarving.”
McKenzie nodded with understanding. “So, your grandparents are upset because he gave up a high-paying job to go into business for himself?”
“Yes.” Shara nodded. “The whole family was upset with Uncle Reggie—Grandpa, Grandma, and his two brothers. Mom was the only one who understood. But Uncle Reggie got mad and left Arkansas almost thirteen years ago. No one’s heard a thing from him since.”
McKenzie thought about her own aunts and uncles. How would I feel if I didn’t know where one of them was? The thought made her sad. “Do you remember your uncle?”
“Just a little. I was four when he left.” Shara nodded, and her eyes grew serious. “He played with me all the time. He always drew pictures of me. He even carved me a necklace.” She pulled a gold chain off over her head and held it out.
McKenzie took the necklace in her hand and traced the wooden medallion hanging from it. A delicate carving of a curly-haired fairy graced the front. “This is gorgeous,” she said with awe.
“Do you recognize the face of the fairy?” Shara asked with a slight smile.
McKenzie squinted at the medallion. She gasped and looked up at Shara. “It’s you, isn’t it?”
Shara nodded. “It’s all I have to remember him by. I don’t even have a picture.”
McKenzie stared at the necklace. Turning it over, she noticed initials on the back. “What do the letters SS stand for?”
Shara shrugged her shoulders. “We don’t know. Nobody noticed the initials until after Uncle Reg left, so we couldn’t ask him.”
McKenzie handed the necklace back to Shara, who quickly put it back over her head. The girls stepped from the car and headed to the back entrance of the Dixie Showcase.
McKenzie thought the conversation over. I can’t imagine having a relative missing for thirteen years! How awful! she thought.
“I wish I could help you find him,” McKenzie said. “I’ll pray for him and your family.”
Shara smiled softly. “Thanks. I guess I should pray more often about it. Sometimes I just forget.”
“I’ve done that, too,” McKenzie admitted. “But I’ll try really hard to remember now.”
The girls reached the building and stepped inside. After McKenzie thanked Shara for the ride, the girls went their separate ways. Shara headed down the hallway toward the stable area. McKenzie walked toward the dressing rooms, wishing she could do something to help.
Suddenly an idea came to McKenzie. She felt excitement mounting inside her. Pulling her cell phone from her pocket, she punched in Sydne
y’s number. I hope you didn’t turn your phone off for the pioneer demonstration, she thought anxiously.
After several rings, Sydney finally answered. “Hey, what’s up?”
McKenzie glanced around to see if anyone was listening. Spotting a couple walking toward her, McKenzie cupped her hand around the phone. “I’ve got a great mystery for us to solve. How would you like to investigate our first missing persons case?”
The Statue
“Do you think we can find Shara’s uncle?” Sydney asked after McKenzie explained the situation.
“I don’t know, but we need to try,” McKenzie said. “Shara really misses him. But she doesn’t have as much free time to look for him as we do.”
“Let’s go for it,” Sydney said enthusiastically.
McKenzie heard voices in the background on Sydney’s phone. Then her friend continued, “Oh, I have to go now. Miss Val says pioneers don’t talk on cell phones. And don’t forget to tell the other Camp Club Girls.”
“Okay,” McKenzie said with a giggle and hung up. She tapped out a quick text message about their latest mystery. Then she sent it to Alexis Howell, Bailey Chang, Elizabeth Anderson, and Kate Oliver, the other Camp Club Girls.
A minute later McKenzie stepped inside the dressing room. She quickly changed into her frilly light green plantation dress and white stockings. Her black button-up shoes had felt weird when she first began wearing them, but she was getting used to them now.
“Hey, McKenzie,” a voice called behind her. “Are you ready to do your hair and makeup?”
McKenzie turned and saw Amanda, the college-aged stylist, approaching her. “I’ll be right there,” she said, adjusting the neckline of her dress.
Soon, Amanda had swept McKenzie’s hair up and back into a ponytail. After Amanda used the curling iron, McKenzie’s hair hung in auburn ringlets.
“Perfect,” Amanda announced as she doused McKenzie in a cloud of hairspray.
With long-handled brushes, Amanda expertly applied eye shadow, blush, and lipstick to McKenzie’s face. Mom would never let me wear this much makeup back home, McKenzie thought, grinning at her reflection in the mirror.
