The Sign in the Smoke (Nancy Drew Diaries #12)(42)

“Sam!” I cried. “What on earth are you doing!”

“She took us!” Sam must have been startled enough by my appearance that she let go of Olivia’s mouth, and the girl’s squeaky voice suddenly sounded from Sam’s side. “I got up to go to the bathroom and she grabbed me! And then we waited a few minutes, and she grabbed Queenie and Harper too, the same way!”

I moved forward hesitantly. “Why did you do that, Sam?” But the truth is, I was afraid of what she’d say. There was no good reason to steal three campers and force them into the woods above the lake, on the anniversary of Lila’s near-drowning. . . .

Sam moved forward, out of the cover of the trees, and suddenly reached up and pulled off her Yankees cap. In the thin moonlight, out spilled a pile of silky, silver-blond hair.

I gasped.

“Lila is my sister,” Sam said simply, her eyes shining with a feral glow. “And this is our revenge—on Camp Cedarbark and on Deborah!”

I sputtered, caught off guard. “But—but—Lila survived!” I managed finally. “I looked into it! She had some neurological damage, but she recovered, and she’s alive and well!”

Sam narrowed her eyes. “Sure, she’s alive and well,” she said. “But what about me?”

What? I glanced at Harper and the other girls, and they looked just as confused as I felt. “What about . . . you?”

“Lila’s my older sister,” Sam went on. “Have you ever thought about what your life would be like if such a huge accident happened to your sister? The effect it would have on your parents?”

I didn’t have siblings, but I tried to imagine. “Er, not . . . good?”

“Not good at all!” Sam advanced on me, making me shrink back, but then she stopped and seemed to catch herself. “I grew up in a prison, Nancy. I wasn’t allowed to have playdates, or go swimming at the beach, or climb on the high bars, or pretty much anything.” She snorted.

“But . . . what does that have to do with Camp Larksong?” I asked. “Or Camp Cedarbark? Or Deborah?”

Sam sneered at me. “Are you seriously asking me that question?” she asked. “Deborah was responsible for Lila’s accident. She was her counselor. She failed to convince Lila that they’d find the ring later. She didn’t notice when Lila snuck out of the tent, and then she failed to save her.”

I stared at Sam. “It was an accident,” I said. “Even counselors can’t prevent everything, Sam. She didn’t realize how upset Lila was and didn’t hear her get up. Is that really an offense worth all this?” I remembered Harper’s flooding of the bunk. I’d failed to notice how upset she was before it happened. It seemed like Deborah hadn’t done anything worse the night of Lila’s accident.

Sam glared. “Someone is responsible, Nancy,” she said in a low, creepy voice. “And someone is going to pay.” She turned from me to the girls, who were huddled together, shivering. Her eyes took on a wolfish glow.

I suddenly became very aware that Bess, Deborah, and Miles were nowhere to be seen. “Pay . . . how?” I asked. Maybe I can keep her talking. Just keep her talking and give them a chance to find us so we can overpower her.

Sam tossed her head. “By ruining any chance of Camp Cedarbark being successful,” she replied. “That’s why I applied to be a counselor here—under a different last name. Deborah never suspected a thing. And so I’ve been sneaking into the lake and pulling people under,” she went on. “I’ve spent the last six months training myself to hold my breath for five minutes! Plenty long enough to get out of sight and take a breath. That also allowed the campers—and you—to experience what it must have felt like to be Lila.”

I shook my head. “Lila went under herself?,” I pointed out. “No one pulled—”

“Shut up!” Sam moved closer, a vicious expression on her face, and I fell silent. “That’s why I stole the sleeping bags and dumped them in the lake. And, when no one seemed to be listening, that’s why I set my message aflame in the main clearing. GO HOME—and forget this camp. Never come back! Horrible things happened here!”

I was shivering now, just like the girls. Sam is crazy, I realized. Whatever real problems she had, it was clear she wasn’t capable of thinking rationally about this. Which made her capable of a lot of very scary things. I listened hard but couldn’t hear anyone approaching. “What . . . are you going to do now?” I asked, struggling to hide the fear I was feeling.

Sam smiled. “A few missing campers should dampen the enthusiasm for Camp Cedarbark,” she replied. “And if I dump them in the lake? All the better. People will remember Lila and know that something is evil here.”

Something sure is. A chill ran up my spine. “You can’t hurt these girls,” I said. “They’ve done nothing to you!”

Sam laughed—a hollow, insane laugh. “I’ve done nothing to anybody either!” she cried. “But my parents treat me like an invalid. Listen. I can do whatever I need to, to get my message across. But you know what?” Her eyes took on a satisfied gleam. “A counselor missing—that would really be the icing on the cake.”

She stepped forward. Trembling, I stepped back.

And back.