I threw myself between the girls and the mound. "Guys, these burial mounds are more than a thousand years old. Digging them up is a federal crime."
"That's so disrespectful, Mrs. Wrath," Lauren said. "I can't believe you thought we'd do that!"
Huh?
"Maybe she wants to do that and frame us?" Inez wondered.
That turned quickly.
The girls wandered over to the turtle mound, shaking their heads.
I asked my co-leader, "How did I go from being the good guy to the bad guy?"
Kelly chimed in, "More importantly, how did I go from being the smart one to the clueless one?"
"Oh. You heard that, did you?"
Rex was trying to keep it together as he walked over and joined the girls.
"You aren't that smart either," I called after him. "You are wearing a tinfoil hat with a glaring misspelling!"
Take that!
Deciphering what the girls really thought or meant about anything was a time-wasting venture. They had that amazing ability to change ideas in midstream that aggravated most leaders. I'd learned a long time ago not to take them too seriously. What was the point? If I did, I'd have some serious self-esteem issues.
Besides, it was a lovely night, and I was with my girls. My mind was temporarily off of the Aunt June quandary, and I was with my husband and best friend. I took in several deep breaths of the fresh air and gazed out over the bluffs at the river.
It was the chanting that got my attention first. Someone was doing some sort of Native American chanting. Was it ghosts? I looked at the girls to see if they were the source of the noise. They looked at me, wondering the same thing, I'd be willing to bet. When they were all facing me, their mouths dropped open.
"It's behind me, isn't it?" I asked quietly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The ghosts of a long-lost Native American tribe must be right behind me. It was probably the three braves murdered by Princess Badger Tooth.
Rex and Kelly just stared. So I turned around.
Betty—dressed from head to toe in Native American ceremonial costume. The tinfoil hat was gone. She wore a brightly colored dress covered in elaborate beadwork and silver. And there were feathers—lots of brightly colored feathers all over her.
She was dancing in a circle around the fish mound, chanting something. We moved closer. That's when we heard what she was saying. It appeared to be something made up on the spot that included aliens, spiders and scorpions, and some sort of thing involving Cookie the horse.
"Betty?" I asked as we all moved closer. "What are you doing?"
The girl stopped and put her hands on her hips. "I'm honoring my ancestors."
"I thought you were Russian?" In fact, it was her Russian ties that had helped me out on a case not too long ago.
She rolled her eyes. "On one side. On the other, I've got Winnebago blood."
"You do?" I asked.
"Well, Mom says it's not enough to be part of a casino or anything—whatever that means. But there is some connection."
"Winnebago tribe?" Lauren asked. "Like the RVs?"
Inez nodded. "My uncle Bruce has a Winnebago. He has to live in there when Aunt Sue catches him on something called a bender."
"Why didn't we buy a Winnebago to come on this trip?" Ava ventured.
"We should've used Mrs. Wrath's credit card," Kaitlin said. "Can you buy a Winnebago on Amazon?"
Betty shook her head. "No. But you can on eBay."
"No one is buying a Winnebago," I said. "I already have three houses. I don't need one on wheels."
Rex shrugged. "I'd rather have a Winnebago than a house this far away."
"Yay!" Kaitlyn cheered. "We're getting a Winnebago!"
"Guys," Betty said. "You are seriously dishonoring my ancestors."
The girls went quiet.
"Do you have alien blood too?" Inez asked.
The girls all nodded, wondering the same thing. Hell, I was wondering the same thing.
Betty considered this. "I guess it's possible."
"Where did you get your costume?" Kelly asked. "How did you not crush the feathers in your backpack?"
Betty waved both hands in front of her face dramatically and whispered, "Magic!"
There was a poof of blue smoke, and when it cleared, the costume lay on the ground but Betty was gone. This was disturbing since I imagined a naked Betty strutting through camp with a backpack full of concussion grenades.
The girls, Rex, and Kelly burst into applause. I reluctantly joined in, but my first concern was where was the girl?
"Ta-da!" a voice cried out behind us. We turned to see Betty about twenty feet away, back in her original clothes and tinfoil hat.
"Bravo!" Rex cheered.
"This is a dangerous place to be doing that," I chastised. "What if she poofed over the edge of the cliff?"
Betty thought about that. "That's not a bad idea. I'm still working on levitation. If I could pull that off, I could reappear in midair just a few steps off the cliff."
"No," Kelly said. "We are not working on that here."
"Awwww." Betty kicked at a milkweed. "This is the perfect place to do this. We don't have giant, deadly drop-offs back home."
"Nevertheless," Kelly said. "You can't practice this here. Got it?"
Betty studied her leader. "Did you and Mrs. Wrath switch places or something? You're a buttkill."
"I think you mean buzzkill," Kelly corrected automatically.
"No, I mean buttkill."
"Betty," Kelly warned.
I raised my hand. "I want to know what a buttkill is."
"Why haven't we seen any ghosts or aliens?" Ava interrupted.
"This place is supposed to be haunted," Inez added.
"Maybe," Rex said, "those stories are just supposed to scare you."
"But what about the story of Princess Badger Tooth?" Lauren asked.
Rex made the mistake of asking what that was. We spent ten minutes listening as the girls told my husband the story of the very murdery Native American princess.
"I think the stories might also have to do with the girl who fell off the cliff and died five years ago," Kelly said.
"That must be it!" Kaitlyn snapped her fingers. "What do we know about her?"
"How do you know it's a girl? Toad just said somebody died," I said.
"Well,"
