“These will make swell props, Elmer—thanks!” Belinda enthused. She looked over to where I was setting a toaster down on the floor of the stage. “Think you could handle an art project, Truly?”
I shrugged. “I could try, I guess.”
A little while later, Hatcher wandered over and looked at the big piece of plywood propped up against the stage in front of me. “Not bad, Drooly,” he said, watching over my shoulder as I sketched a mermaid onto it for the Rockin’ Mermaid sign that Dr. Calhoun envisioned.
“Don’t call me that,” I said automatically. I frowned, concentrating on getting the sweep of her tail just right. “You didn’t sound too bad just now either.”
“Thanks. My solo is really hard, though. Do you think you might have time to help me practice at home?”
I looked at him, surprised and pleased that he wanted to hang out with me. “Sure!”
Over on the other side of the Grange, Ms. Patel struck a chord on the piano, and Cha Cha started to sing. Hatcher and I both turned to watch. For someone so small, Cha Cha sure was loud. And if her speaking voice was low, her singing voice was just the opposite. She didn’t sound like a kazoo at all. She could really hit the high notes, and most of them were even on pitch.
“Gather around, people!” Dr. Calhoun said when Cha Cha finished. “Parents’ Weekend is coming up at Camp Lovejoy. Gwen and Artie Olsen, the directors, got wind of our production, and they’ve invited us to perform a sneak preview as entertainment for their big barbecue this weekend. I realize that’s not much notice, but I told them yes. We’ll do just a few songs—the first one featuring our pirates, of course. Then Mabel’s ‘Poor Wand’ring One,’ which we just heard from Cha Cha and which is coming along nicely, and”—he looked over at my brother—“if you’re feeling ready by the weekend, Hatcher, I thought we’d end with your solo. ‘I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major-General’ always brings down the house.”
My brother gave a crisp salute. “Reporting for duty, sir!”
Dr. Calhoun scanned the cast and crew, his gaze settling on me. “While we won’t be bothering with much in the way of sets or costumes,” he continued, “I thought that since we’ll be performing lakeside, it would be fun to wow everyone with our resident mermaid. I’d like you to open for us, Truly, since there’s actual water for you to swim in. You’ll be a big hit with the campers!”
My face turned the same shade as the vintage Coca-Cola machine. I was going to have to perform in public again? “Um, fine, I guess.” At least I wouldn’t have to worry about a wardrobe malfunction this time around.
“I’ll leave the actual choreography up to you,” Dr. Calhoun told me. “Just be sure to make a splash!”
That I could definitely do, especially in a shimmertail.
As I headed back to my art project, I passed Bud and Lucas.
“You’ll love fishing!” I heard Bud assure my friend. “There’s nothing better than being out on the water before dawn when the world is quiet.”
Lucas looked like he could think of a lot of things that sounded better than that.
“You just name the time, and I’ll take you,” said Bud. “I don’t even need advance warning. Canoe’s always on my truck this time of year.”
Later, while my brother and friends and I all waited for Mrs. Abramowitz, we told Hatcher about our trip to Cherry Island.
“That’s awesome!” he said, inspecting the piece of rope I’d found. “I wish I could have been there with you. What’s next?”
“The cave is off-limits for now,” I told him. “Aunt True doesn’t want us going back out there alone.” I told him about Amanda Appleton and the information that Ella Bellow had extracted at the book signing. “Dr. Appleton has been fishing in the college archives, and she may have made the connection between Nathaniel Daniel and Dandy Dan. We need to find out what fish she’s caught, if we want to get to the treasure first.”
CHAPTER 33
The following morning, Lucas stopped by the bookstore after swim practice. “Ready to go?” he whispered, helping himself to a trio of blueberry donut muffins.
I glanced toward the office, where my father was frowning at his computer. “Um, not yet,” I whispered back. “My dad hasn’t left for physical therapy.”
I continued tidying up Cup and Chaucer while Lucas killed time showing customers the crowdsourced photos of our suspects in the missing trophy case. It had been nearly two weeks now since the race, and it was hard not to get discouraged. We’d managed to narrow down our list of suspects a bit more—Reverend Quinn had vouched for his cousin in the baggy shorts—but we still hadn’t had any luck figuring out who was behind the theft.
The bell over the door jangled, and Officer Tanglewood strolled in. “How about a cappuccino, Nancy Drew?” He snagged a handful of muffins while I prepared his beverage. Taking a bite of one he asked, “Mmmmph mmmmph?” which I was pretty sure translated to “Did you kids solve the case yet?”
I shook my head. “We’re close, though,” which wasn’t necessarily true, but I wanted to wipe the smirk off his face, which it did.
My father left shortly after Officer Tanglewood did. I waited until Belinda arrived and Aunt True was busy with a sales rep, then slipped out.
“What happens if your father finds out?” Lucas asked as we jogged down Main Street toward Lovejoy College.
“He won’t,” I told him with more confidence than I felt. I was skating on thin ice these days, as Grandma G would say, and I knew it. My luck had held this far, though, and we really needed to get a look at
