“We didn’t know we were supposed to,” said Jasmine.
“It was right there in the brochure,” scoffed Hayden.
Sirena gave her a warning glance. “Not to worry. You girls were last-minute additions, after all. You’ll be making your own tonight! Let’s meet at Mermaid Crossing in five minutes.”
While our fellow aspiring mermaids scattered to retrieve their bling, Mackenzie and Cha Cha and Jasmine and I helped Delphine carry dessert out to the porch.
Mackenzie looked askance at the bowl full of what looked like green shaving cream that Delphine handed to her. “What is this?”
Delphine laughed. “Just whipped cream with a little food coloring in it.”
Dessert was something she called “Fruit of the Sea,” which was actually fresh strawberries topped with a cloud of the pale green whipped cream. It looked a little weird, but it tasted great. Mackenzie and I both had two helpings.
“Delphine always makes this for Bling Night,” said Sirena happily, scooping a little more out of the bowl too. “Now, ladies, tonight is the night you’ve all been waiting for! You’re going to make bling to your heart’s content.”
My heart was pretty content being bling free, I thought, watching as Delphine placed a large tray on the coffee table in front of us. It was piled high with seashells, fake gems, metallic tassels, glitter, and the like—all the kinds of stuff that I avoided like the plague in real life. Crafts were another item on the long list of things I wasn’t good at. But then, mermaid camp wasn’t real life, was it? I sighed and reached for a glue gun. The swimming part had turned out to be not so bad. Maybe this would be fun too.
I was just finishing up stringing my second strand of glitter-encrusted seashells when my cell phone vibrated. I pulled it from the pocket of my shorts. It was Hatcher!
“I’ll be right back,” I told the group, and headed for the powder room off the kitchen. Closing the door behind me, I put my phone to my ear. “Hey!”
“Hey yourself!” my brother replied. “I got your text—sorry I didn’t have a chance to answer sooner. You know how wrestling camp goes.”
“Yep.” Exactly the same as swimming camp, and every other athletic camp on the planet. Eat. Sleep. Practice. Repeat.
We chatted for a few minutes. Aunt True was right about mermaid camp providing great stories. I got Hatcher laughing so hard he almost choked when I told him about Shellina and Skipper Dee and Sirena and her endless list of mermaid rules and sayings.
“Oops, gotta go,” he said finally. “Coach is making us watch videos from practice today. See you back in Pumpkin Falls!”
“See you!”
We hung up, and I went back out to the porch to finish my bling.
Later, before she dismissed us for the evening, Sirena made an announcement.
“We have a special field trip planned for you tomorrow morning before breakfast!” she told us. “Instead of meeting by the pool, please meet in the parking lot at six thirty a.m. sharp. Wear your bathing suits and bring your towels and tails.”
This didn’t sound good. Especially the tails part. Was she planning to drag us out in public somewhere?
“And, ladies, don’t stay up too late this time! I can promise you that this is a trip you won’t want to miss. Remember, mermaids need their—”
“—beauty rest!” we all chorused.
Back in the cabin, Mackenzie and Cha Cha and Jasmine and I made another video call to the rest of the Pumpkin Falls Private Eyes. I sorted through the remainder of my care package while we chatted, pulling out a T-shirt with WELL-BEHAVED WOMEN SELDOM MAKE HISTORY on it, a new sudoku book, a stash of my favorite candy bars, a double strand of peacock blue and green glass beads that I recognized from our latest sideline shipment—more bling!—and the latest issue of Bird Watcher’s Digest magazine.
“Pay attention,” Scooter said irritably, watching as I flipped through it. “This is important.”
“I’m listening,” I replied, and pulled a pair of purple wool socks from the box. I frowned. What was Aunt True thinking? It was July! Then I saw the little note pinned to them. Belinda had knitted them for me.
At least she hadn’t sent me a kitten, I thought. But she had included a picture of one, a really cute little gray kitten with a white tip on his tail, like he’d dipped it in paint. On the back she’d scribbled I’ve named this little fellow Fog. He’s the perfect mer-kitten, and he’s up for adoption! Tell your mermaid friends! Like Aunt True, Belinda had a flair for marketing. Unlike Aunt True, Belinda focused solely on her foster kittens.
“We’ve had some luck following up on the Grateful Dead guy,” Scooter said, still glaring at me. “Lucas’s mother remembers seeing him at Lou’s that morning when he stopped in for coffee and a donut.”
“And Mr. Henry is almost certain he spotted him heading for his car right before the award ceremony,” Lucas added. “He remembers because he says the guy’s car was awesome, a 1957 Chevy or something.”
At the bottom of my care package was a trio of books. I lifted them out and examined the covers, frowning. Aunt True had gone full mermaid on me. There was a copy of The Little Mermaid (a sticky note on the cover assured me that this was the original fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen, and that I’d like it much better than the movie) and something called The Mermaid Handbook. Lots of illustrations, gilt edges—I figured Mackenzie would love that one. The third book, at least, looked like something I might want to read.
“Check it out!” I said to my cabin-mates, holding up Saga of a Ship: The Lost Treasure of the Windborne. “This is that book we saw at the Brewster Store! The one whose author is doing a book signing tomorrow night.”
“Truly!” My head snapped up. It was Calhoun. “Could you please put that down and pay attention?”
“Sorry,” I replied meekly.
“We also have some new suspects,
