by Shari Barr
McKenzie looked at the return address. “Hey, Kate sent me something by overnight express,” she exclaimed.
She carried the box inside, ripped it open, and read the note inside. “These are my night vision goggles. Thought they might come in handy.”
“Wow, she has the coolest gadgets,” Sydney said, taking the goggles from McKenzie. “Is there any electronic that she doesn’t have?”
“I don’t think so,” McKenzie said, grabbing her camera on the coffee table. “Let’s check out our pictures from the lookout tower this morning.” She hooked her camera into the computer and sat down. Mr. Pibb made his usual appearance, jumping onto her lap.
Sydney pulled up a chair beside her as Miss Val headed upstairs. “These are cool pictures. Look, you can even see those waterfalls down there in the trees. Let’s send these to the Camp Club Girls. I bet most of them have never been to Branson or the Ozarks. They’ll love seeing what it looks like down here.”
McKenzie agreed, quickly sending copies to their four friends from camp. “Now, let’s look at your pictures.”
Sydney hooked up her camera, and they looked at her pictures next. All the pictures from the lookout tower had turned out great. Sydney compressed her photo files and e-mailed them to her family in Washington DC.
Miss Val fixed supper and when they had finished, she suggested going back into town to play miniature golf. The girls helped clean up the dishes and headed back out to the car. McKenzie grabbed the night vision goggles and her camera, hoping to take some nighttime pictures.
On the way back to town, they traveled the curvy roads common to the Ozarks. McKenzie had never seen so many winding roads in her entire life. The ride into Branson was almost like riding a roller coaster— up and down, round and round.
Once in town, Miss Val headed down the Strip and then pulled into Lost Treasure Golf. The three adventurers climbed aboard the miniature train and headed through make-believe mining caves and ancient ruins to get to the course. McKenzie stuck her hand out, trying to get wet, as they traveled behind the waterfall.
“I’m horrible at golf,” McKenzie muttered a few minutes later as her ball sailed off the course and landed with a plop in a pool beneath the waterfall.
Miss Val easily beat them both. When they left the golf course, Highway 76, the main road, was packed with cars leaving the shows.
“Miss Val, would you mind stopping at the Dixie Showcase?” McKenzie asked as they approached the attraction. “The show is over, so maybe I can get some pictures of the horses and their stalls when there aren’t any customers around.”
“Sure, we can do that,” Miss Val said, pulling the car into the drive. The parking lot was nearly empty, so she pulled into a parking spot in the front. “You girls go ahead. I’ll wait here.”
McKenzie slung her camera strap over her head, and Sydney grabbed the night vision goggles. They walked along the sidewalk to the horses’ stalls along the outside of the building. McKenzie lifted her camera and snapped several shots. These horses are gorgeous, she thought, but not as pretty as my horse, Sahara, back home. I sure hope Evan is taking good care of her. I hope he remembers to ride her every day.
“Let’s head to the parking lot at the side,” she suggested after a few minutes. “I can get more of the building that way.”
The girls walked beneath the streetlights toward the empty lot beyond the building. Headlights flickered behind the trees and shrubs as cars traveled down the Strip. The outer edges of the parking lot were engulfed in shadows. McKenzie snapped and snapped, trying to get the perfect picture of the Belgians and quarter horses.
“I think I got some good shots,” McKenzie said, turning off her camera.
Sydney grabbed McKenzie’s arm and whispered anxiously, “I thought I saw something in the shadows behind the Showcase.” She lifted the goggles to her eyes, peering into the darkness.
McKenzie looked in the direction Sydney pointed but saw only trees and shrubs. She shrugged and turned away. “I don’t see anything.”
“Maybe I imagined it,” Sydney said, lowering the goggles.
They started heading back across the parking lot when McKenzie jumped at a thundering sound behind her.
Clip-clop! Clip-clop! Clip-clop! McKenzie froze at the sound of horse’s hooves pounding across the pavement.
“Yee-haw!” a voice rang out.
McKenzie turned and stared. A figure wearing a gray Confederate uniform raced across the far end of the parking lot on a brown quarter horse!
A Mysterious Note
As quickly as the unknown rider appeared, he vanished behind the Dixie Showcase.
“Who or what was that?” Sydney asked, taking a step closer to McKenzie.
“I–I’m not sure,” McKenzie stammered, staring in disbelief at the now-empty corner of the parking lot.
“Do you think it was the ghost of old Beau Hatfield?” Sydney asked, her voice trembling.
McKenzie hurried to the far corner of the building, peering around it cautiously. The lot was empty.
Where did the horse and rider go? They couldn’t just disappear, she thought.
Turning, she glimpsed a small object on the ground, shining in the streetlights. She picked up a large gold button. Had the rider lost it, or had it been here all along?
McKenzie’s heart raced. She didn’t know what to think. Where had the rider come from, and where did he go? Was there a way he could get inside the Showcase? He had to be hiding somewhere around here. He couldn’t ride down Branson’s busy streets and not be seen.
“Somebody is trying to fool everyone.” McKenzie rejoined Sydney and showed her the button. “It’s like he appeared out of nowhere. Then I blinked, and he was gone again. It has to be a prank. There are no such things as ghosts.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m getting out of here,” Sydney said, hurrying toward the front parking lot. “Maybe ‘Old Beau’ didn’t expect anybody to be back here. What if he comes back?”
Good point, McKenzie thought, turning to Sydney. Though she wanted to find out who the mystery rider was, running away seemed like a better idea. She shoved the button in her pocket and scurried after Sydney, who was already halfway across the lot. They rounded the corner of the building, nearly running into Miss Val.
“There you are. I was beginning to think you were lost,” Miss Val said, leading the way back to the car.
Both girls chattered at the same time, telling Miss Val all about the mystery rider. McKenzie recalled the rider appearing out of nowhere.
He could be anyone. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she barely noticed the trip through town. Before she knew it, Miss Val was pulling into their driveway.
“So the mystery man rides again,” Miss Val said, shutting off the engine. “Somebody is sure getting people worked up.”
“Two mysteries,” Sydney said, walking up the front steps. “Think we can solve this one, too?”
McKenzie thought for a moment. Maybe they should concentrate on finding Mr. Ford. If the security cameras couldn’t catch the ghost rider, it didn’t seem likely that they could either. On the other hand, she couldn’t pass up the chance to solve a good mystery.
She shrugged as they stepped inside. “I don’t know if we can solve it or not, but I do know one thing. I’m sure going to try.”
The next day, McKenzie had practice at the Dixie Showcase before the performance. When Miss Val dropped her off, Shara pulled into the parking lot beside them.
As the two girls walked toward the employee entrance, Shara said breathlessly, “Guess what? Heather called me this morning and said the security cameras caught a glimpse of a Confederate soldier riding through the parking lot last night. Then this morning someone had changed the flags again.”
McKenzie stopped in her tracks. “You’re kidding. Last night Sydney and I saw someone riding a horse through the back parking lot. He was wearing a Confederate uniform and yelling.”
“Seriously?” Shara asked in am
azement. “Did you get a good look at him?”
McKenzie shook her head. “It was almost dark, and he rode so fast. I have no idea what he looked like, other than the uniform.”
“Hmm,” Shara said as they stepped inside the back entrance. “Heather said this has happened about once a week all summer. No one has been able to catch the person yet. He sure is sneaky.”
“I wish we could solve this mystery, too,” McKenzie said, stopping at the dressing room doors.
“Have you found out anything new about Uncle Reggie yet?” Shara asked hopefully.
McKenzie told Shara about finding the necklace at Silver Dollar City and that the manager only knew him as the Shara Smiles man.
Shara beamed. “Oh, McKenzie! That’s wonderful. He must be in Branson after all. Did you find out anything else?”
“Oh, yes. I about forgot. When Sydney and I were in the candle shop, a clerk was wearing a bracelet that looked like your uncle’s work. When we asked her about it, she acted nervous.”
“That’s weird.” Shara frowned. “I wonder if she knows him.”
McKenzie remembered that Elizabeth had wondered the same thing. But why would the woman not want to tell them where she got her bracelet? It didn’t make sense.
“I wish I could help you look for him. But I’m working so many hours at the Showcase, I don’t have time left to do anything else.” Shara sighed and raked her fingers through her long hair.
“Oh, don’t feel bad,” McKenzie said. “Remember, the Camp Club Girls love a good mystery.”
Shara laughed. “Okay, but let me know if I can do anything to help. I do get some time off.”
McKenzie agreed to do so. “I need to get ready for practice. I’ll let you know if we find out anything new.”
McKenzie and the other horseback riders quickly practiced their routine while the director watched. He pointed out imperfections in their act until everyone performed flawlessly.
The trainers took the horses to their stalls to rest before the show. An hour later, McKenzie had changed into her southern belle dress with her makeup and hair done. She joined the other performers backstage and waited for showtime. She wished she had a chance to get to know some of the other girls. But with the Showcase performance and the investigation, she had little time left for making new friends.
“Hey, McKenzie,” a voice called out behind her, interrupting her thoughts.
Turning, she saw Nat approaching her wearing his Confederate uniform for the performance.
“Hi, Nat,” she said, smiling. “Did you hear the news? Someone changed the flags again this morning. And Sydney and I saw the rebel last night riding through the parking lot.”
Nat frowned. “Did you get a good look at the guy?”
McKenzie shook her head. “No, it was too dark. Who do you think is causing all this trouble?”
“Who knows,” Nat said uneasily. “But I’d like to meet whoever is doing it. He has the right idea.”
“What do you mean?” McKenzie asked with surprise.
“Don’t you know about the Civil War? The southerners didn’t get along with the northerners. If those Yankees had just minded their own business, there wouldn’t have been a war.” Nat shook his head with disgust.
“But the Civil War ended more than a hundred and fifty years ago. I don’t like war any more than anyone else, but a lot of good came from it. The Civil War got rid of slavery,” McKenzie explained defensively. “That was one of the best things to happen in our country. Every man or woman is free now.”
“Well,” Nat said, his gaze fiery as he looked McKenzie in the eye. “The North had no business telling the South what to do.”
“Well, I think this rebel rider needs to forgive the Yankees. That was a long time ago, and whoever is doing this would feel a lot better if he did forgive,” McKenzie said firmly. “God forgives everyone, so we need to forgive others.”
Nat didn’t say anything for a few minutes. He glanced the other way, ignoring McKenzie’s gaze. The two remained silent. Then moments later the trainers arrived with the horses for the show.
She and Nat and the other performers climbed on the backs of their horses.
Why would Nat be upset about the Civil War? It doesn’t make any sense, McKenzie thought.
She had no more time to think about their conversation. The show soon started, and moments later McKenzie was flying around the arena on Azur’s back. Each time she performed, it seemed easier. She concentrated on her act, trying to forget the hundreds of people watching her. Azur was so well trained he could have run the routine without her.
I still can’t believe I’m performing in the Dixie Showcase, McKenzie thought as the performance ended. The applause sent shivers of excitement down her spine.
McKenzie spent the rest of the day with Miss Val and Sydney, eating supper, shopping, and riding go-carts. On their way home later that night, Miss Val announced, “Tomorrow I have tickets for all of us to ride the Ducks.”
“We’re going to ride ducks?” Sydney asked with a confused look.
McKenzie giggled. “They’re not quack-quack ducks. They’re vehicles that go on land and in water, like amphibians. Kind of like a boat on wheels.”
“You girls will love it,” Miss Val said. “The Duck will take us on a tour of the town and then drive right into the lake.”
McKenzie had heard about the Ducks but hadn’t ridden them yet. She had seen them filled with tourists driving all around town. I can’t wait to ride around Table Rock Lake and see Branson from the water, she thought.
The next morning the girls grabbed their cameras and drove into town with Miss Val. After arriving at Duck Central, they climbed aboard a waiting Duck. When the seats were filled, the captain gave everyone a noisemaker called a quacker.
McKenzie put it to her mouth and blew. Quaackk! Quaackk! Every kid on the Duck blew their quackers, sounding like a chorus of out-of-tune ducks.
The captain began the tour by driving through Branson’s historical streets. While driving, he told jokes and talked about Branson and the surrounding Ozark hills. Finally, he drove the Duck to the lake’s edge and drove in.
“Woo-hoo!” McKenzie cried as the vehicle splashed into the water like a duck. “I know where this thing gets its name.”
The Duck puttered around the lake. While the captain gave a history of the region, the girls took pictures of the scenery.
“Look at the homes in the hills,” McKenzie said with awe. “Some of them look like mansions.”
“I see a statue up there.” Sydney aimed her camera at a wooden monument visible in a clearing on the hills. “Though I can’t tell what it is from here.”
“The hills around here are filled with crafters selling their products. I imagine a woodcrafter is displaying his work,” Miss Val explained as she pulled a pair of sunglasses from her purse.
“I don’t see a road. How do people get to his place?” Sydney asked.
“There’s probably a gravel road leading to it off the highway somewhere,” Miss Val answered. “These hills are filled with narrow, winding roads.”
“It sure would be fun to explore those hills,” McKenzie said wistfully.
“You would get lost for sure,” Miss Val said with a laugh. “I vacationed down here for years before moving here, and I still get turned around once in a while.”
The captain announced that the cruise was almost over. In a few minutes, he drove the Duck up the boat ramp and onto the highway. The Duck left a trail of water as it sped down the road.
Suddenly, McKenzie turned to Sydney. “I just thought of something. I forgot to tell Shara that I wrote to her Uncle Reggie. If he got our letter, hopefully he’ll look her up today.”
How could I have forgotten to tell her about that? McKenzie thought with dismay. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and punched in Shara’s number. Seconds later, her older friend answered. After telling Shara about the letter, McKenzie hung up.
“Great,” she mut
tered, stuffing her phone back in her pocket.
“What’s the matter?” Sydney asked with concern.
“Shara traded schedules with another girl. So if Mr. Ford does go looking for her, he’ll find someone else in the southern belle dress.” McKenzie sighed with disappointment.
“Can’t Shara call the girl and tell her that her Uncle Reggie may come around asking about her?” Sydney waved to a little girl standing by the street staring at the Duck as it sped by.
McKenzie shook her head. “Shara said she can’t get in touch with the other girl, because the girls can’t carry a cell phone while they’re out in their hoop skirts. The girl is already on the job parading around downtown Branson. And she also said that if Mr. Ford does come looking for a girl wearing a southern belle dress, he won’t approach her after he gets a good look at her. The girl filling in for Shara looks nothing at all like her. She is Asian.”
Sydney’s face fell. “That’s not fair. Shara just has to find her uncle.”
McKenzie was silent for a few minutes. I really messed things up, she thought. Then she had an idea. “Maybe we could hang out at the post office for a while. He has to get his mail sometime.”
“It’s worth a try,” Sydney agreed. “Maybe we’ll have a few hours when we’re done here, before we all go to work.”
After the Duck pulled in to Duck Central, Miss Val said she had errands to run. She agreed to let the girls hang out at the post office while she went about her business.
“How will we know Reggie Ford even if he does come in?” Sydney asked as the girls settled onto a bench outside the post office.
“I caught a glimpse of his face the other day at Silver Dollar City. I think I would recognize him,” McKenzie said, trying to think back. “I know he had a beard. He wasn’t real tall and was kind of skinny.”
While they watched and waited, the girls discussed their next steps to look for Mr. Ford. McKenzie kept her gaze on the front door, watching for a man who resembled him.
People of all ages walked by them and through the doors. Yet no one looked like the man she had seen the other day. When Miss Val returned, the girls climbed into the backseat.
