Mosquito Bite Murder Page 6

  The older Betty frowned. "We have to follow the rules, Mrs. Wrath, or else everyone would speak at once."

  I shook my head. "As leader, I'm asserting my rights." I made that part up too.

  "Maybe they've changed the rules?" Laura mused as she ran her fingers through her hair.

  "Fine," older Betty said. "Yes, we have not left this camp in several decades. Sure, it's a problem in that we don't have running water or electricity, but we manage."

  Hilly shook her head in a daze. "What do you do for food?"

  "We have a garden." Esme winked. "We're vegetarians."

  "Not by choice," Betty the Elder grumbled. "I said we could hunt rabbit."

  "Leave a place better than you found it," the Sharons said with eerie precision.

  "How is this possible?" I asked. "Are you saying you have no idea what has happened in the outside world since then?"

  "It didn't seem important," Ada spoke up. "No one has ever invaded or bothered us, so we just sort of stayed. Although we are very vigilant, Mrs. Wrath. The commies could show up anytime."

  "What about your families?" Inez asked.

  All five women shrugged but said nothing.

  "Has it really been so long?" one of the Sharons asked. "I'd estimated twenty years, but I wasn't sure."

  "You're from the 2020s?" Ada asked. "You're from the future?"

  The other women gasped, except for old Betty, who just stared.

  "No, we aren't from the future," I said.

  "Technically, you are," Ada insisted.

  "No, it doesn't work that way," I started before realizing I wasn't sure how to explain this. "Maybe we should take you back with us."

  "I don't think so. We're fine here." Betty Sr. slowly got to her feet.

  "Maybe you could bring us some supplies. It might be nice to have some aspirin." Esme sighed. "We aren't as young as we used to be."

  "What about the men?" Betty Sr. asked. "Are they Boy Scout spies…or"—her mouth twisted into a look of disgust—"commies?"

  Well, technically, Riley had been a spy and we didn't really know what Chad was, but I decided not to tell them that.

  "No. They're just along for the hike," I said. "We trust them."

  "Well, they can't come into the sacred lodge." The older woman folded her arms over her chest. "I knew we should've shored up our defenses with booby traps."

  Hilly spoke up brightly, "I've got C-4!"

  I turned to her. She didn't have her backpack now. "Where? You don't have your backpack. In fact, where did your pajamas and other stuff go?"

  Hilly shrugged. "I put them in your backpack, along with some other stuff."

  That explained why my pack seemed heavier. "Go take my backpack outside, preferably away from the building, please." The last thing I needed was for it to blow up.

  Hilly raced outside and immediately joined us after. It didn't seem like she'd taken it very far, but I knew she didn't want to miss anything. I turned back to the older women before Hilly could let them know she also had a sniper rifle.

  I held up my hands in front of me. "No one is setting up any traps."

  "But what if the Russians come, dear?" one of the Sharons said as the other nodded in agreement. "We have to fight the communists. They're our biggest threat!"

  It didn't seem like the right time to give them a lesson on the fall of communism. "I don't think that will be an issue. They have their own problems these days."

  "Mrs. Wrath." Esme raised her hand.

  It was that moment when I realized they had decided I was their leader too.

  Esme continued once I nodded. "Tell us about the flying cars!"

  That caught me by surprise. "Flying cars? I don't…"

  "Everyone has flying cars in the future," one of the Sharons said. "And you're from the future."

  "And you have robot maids," the other Sharon added.

  "No one has flying cars," I said. "Our cars still stay on the ground. They just look a little different."

  Both Sharons looked disappointed. One of them asked, "What about the robot maids?"

  "We don't have those either." I thought for a moment that we'd been short-changed not to have these things. An idea occurred to me. We didn't have cell service or the internet, but our phones would be impressive. I pulled mine out. "We do have these." It was a good thing I'd brought a solar power bank with me or I wouldn't be able to use it.

  The women swarmed, crowding around me.

  The older Betty seemed suspicious. "What is that?"

  "It's a phone," I explained as I pulled up some photos of our troop.

  The women squealed with delight.

  Ada clapped her hands. "It has photographs on it!"

  "You can really call someone on that?" Esme reached out to poke the screen but changed her mind.

  "Normally, but not here. We can't get cell service out here," I explained. "But we can take pictures." I took a selfie of all of us and showed them.

  Betty the Elder took the cell and looked at the back of it before shaking it vigorously. "There's no darkroom."

  "My stars in heaven!" Ada said. "We look so old! We're not that old!"

  Esme now gently took the phone from Betty. "They said over fifty years! We should've brought a calendar." She handed me back my phone after a cursory glance.

  I wasn't sure a calendar would've helped them. They passed the cell phone amongst themselves. Yeah, it was a lot like that tribe in the Amazon. Who were these women, and why were they here? I couldn't wrap my mind around it. A Girl Scout troop from so long ago? They had to be teasing.

  "I think you guys are cool," my Betty said finally. "But you're missing out on stuff."

  Ada was still staring at the phone. "Like what?"

  "Movies. TV," one of the Kaitlyns said.

  "Insurance for your later years," Ava added.

  "Houses that float in the clouds," Lauren said.

  We all turned to her.

  "Your houses float in the air?" the Sharons cried out in unison.

  "No. I was just kidding," Lauren said.

  "Do you still sell chocolate mint cookies?" Esme asked hopefully. "I really miss those."

  I smiled and reached into my pack. I had one box of every flavor. I spread them on the table.

  The women tore through them like ravenous wolves. I pulled the girls back a few feet. No point in them losing an arm reaching for a cookie.

  I took the opportunity while they were eating to look around the lodge. There were old, rotting posters presumably made by campers fifty years ago. There was a framed, faded photo on the fireplace mantel. I walked over and examined it.

  It had to be the six women when they were girls, maybe even my troop's age. To my complete shock, the women in that photo looked exactly like the girls here in my troop. Maybe we had travelled through time after all. I took a picture of the photo with my phone.

  Hilly pulled me away from the girls. "Did you notice how weird this is?"

  I nodded. "Right? Finding these hermits who've been living here since the 1960s and haven't seen the outside world since?"

  "No." Hilly shook her head. "The other thing."

  "The other thing?" I thought for a moment. "You mean how Betty is just like Betty, Laura is just like Lauren, and they have two Sharons while we have two Kaitlyns?"

  Hilly seemed frustrated. "No. None of those things are weird. I'm talking about the fact that the Council closed this camp! I mean, this place is awesome!"

  "Oh, right," I lied. "That."

  "Now that you mention it…" Hilly eyed the older Betty, who was licking the inside of the chocolate mints wrapper. "I do see a resemblance."

  "It's like looking into the future. I just hope our Betty and these girls won't end up like these ladies."

  Hilly gave me that look where she thought I was completely insane. "I mean that the older Betty kind of looks like your cat."

  My cat Philby? The obese cat who looks like Hitler? I wasn't sure what to say to that, so I close
d my mouth and walked back to the group.

  "I think we should call you," younger Betty said, "Betty Sr. And I'll be Betty Jr."

  The senior woman put down the cookie box. "That's a good idea, tactically. Then there won't be any confusion."

  The girl agreed. "Have you seen any action out here in the last fifty years?"

  I paused because I wanted to know the answer too.

  "Well, I think my memory plays tricks on me sometimes." Betty Sr. scratched her nose. "But there have been commies in the woods before. They aren't very bright though. They've never gotten past the curtains. I know Ada said no one has been here, but she meant in camp. No one has breached the curtains."

  "The camouflage!" I stepped forward.

  "Surrounding the whole camp. Took us ten years to make them."

  They were impressive. "Where did you get the supplies? They look photo perfect."

  "Painted them." Betty Sr. explained. "We made paint out of mud and crushed up plants. And we used the shower curtains all over camp. Since we don't have running water anymore, it made sense."

  "Let's talk shop. What do you have for weapons?" Betty Jr. inquired. "And who are the commies?"

  I intervened. "Used to be the Russians. They were our biggest enemy during the Cold War, which was going on when these ladies came here."

  "We have some booby traps," Betty Sr. said. "Made them myself. When I was younger I thought I'd go to college and become a spy. Maybe someday I will."

  It was jarring how similar the Bettys were. "You should come back with us," I suggested. "You can't stay here."

  Both Bettys turned to me. "Why not?" they asked in unison.

  "I'm thinking of staying for a while too," Betty Jr. added.

  "No, you are coming home when we're done. I promised your parents." This was a lie. Betty's parents seemed apathetic sometimes about their daughter. Considering that the kid was often a danger to others, I could see that.

  "She can stay if she wants." Betty Sr. narrowed her eyes.

  "No, she can't," I insisted. "You guys came here when you were much older than these girls are now. You're adults. You can decide to stay. She's a little kid."

  "She'd be a big help. I can't run as fast as I used to." She tapped her knees. "Arthritis. We could use someone who could run after game. Then we could have meat on the menu."

  My spydy senses were tingling. I had the strangest impression that these women might try to keep the girls here. The need to confiscate the zip gun became more urgent.

  I shook my head. "This is non-negotiable."

  Betty Sr. seemed perplexed. "Why not?"

  "I filled out paperwork." There it was. Paperwork reigned supreme in Scouting. And I could tell by the way Betty Sr. backed off that she understood that.

  "Okay, Mrs. Wrath" was all she said. "Now, what are we going to do with those male spies outside?"

  I left the girls and Hilly inside as I joined Riley and Chad.

  "When are we leaving?" Chad asked the minute he saw me. "I hate it here."

  Yeah, I'll bet you do. "When we're done. Probably tomorrow."

  Our time was somewhat fluid, in that I promised the girls after we were done we'd spend a couple of nights at the Adventureland theme park near Des Moines. The parents had been all for this, like they usually were when I took their kids away.

  "I think we should go now." He shifted from one foot to the other nervously. "People are probably worried about me."

  "Feel free to go ahead and go," I said.

  Chad looked from left to right. "I'm staying. But something is wrong. I recognize…something."

  "What?" It sounded like an excuse so we'd leave. But Chad wasn't my priority.

  He shrugged. "I don't know. Something is in the back of my mind, and I can't put my finger on it."

  Great. "Well, if you figure it out, let me know."

  "Sit down, Chad," Riley warned before turning to me and speaking softly. "I wonder if he isn't just some nut with delusions of grandeur."

  "Huh." I looked at Chad, who was now sulking as he stared at his feet. "You think he might've put himself in that hole? Made up the whole thing?"

  Riley frowned a little. "It's possible, isn't it? We shouldn't rule it out."

  He might be on to something. "That's a good point. He could've come out here to off himself, only to wake up to find us. He might not be involved in any of this."

  Were we totally fooled by some person with a mental condition? I liked this idea…oh, not because I hoped he had problems, but because it cleared up my concerns about Maria or Hilly trying to kill him. This theory, added to my concerns about Maria and our discovery of this old troop, sent my mind spinning.

  "I need a time-out," I said to Riley.

  "Alright," my former handler said. "But I'm not babysitting Chad anymore. If he's messing with us, he's on his own."

  I walked away toward the woods. I needed a break to process what was going on—it was too unreal. Hilly and Riley could look after the girls. What was I saying? The girls could look after themselves.

  It was a beautiful day. Sun filtered through the trees, and light breezes kept me from getting too hot. No one seemed to notice or at least care that I was wandering off on my own. My brain was overheating. And I was hungry. I should've held back some of those cookies.

  While I was relieved about the idea that Chad might not really be in danger, it really bothered me that Maria was still a no-show. Maybe she'd see me wandering about alone and approach me. Also, I still didn't understand why Hilly was here.

  And last and least, Chad was still a problem. I didn't know if he really was in danger or connected to us somehow. And perhaps the biggest thing was that I was in an abandoned Girl Scout camp with six geriatric scouts who'd been hermitted here for more than fifty years.

  Once camp was out of sight, I sat down on a fallen log and closed my eyes. It was as if there were a thousand threads pulling my mind in different directions. I couldn't make sense of anything. I hated it when that happened. I took several deep breaths, keeping my eyes closed. It had a calming effect, but it didn't help me think any more clearly.

  The one thing that hadn't changed was that we came here to locate this camp. We'd found it. Now we had to map it, and tomorrow we could head back out. The ladies could come with if they wanted, but I wasn't sure if I should pressure them.

  Hermits are weird. Oh, sure, they exist everywhere. It's when they come back to civilization that things get strange. I'd spent some time in Russia where, during a clandestine stalking of Putin as he visited a salmon fishery, I ran into a tiny, wizened man in a bear skin named Ivan.

  He was so startled to see me that he made a break for it. I caught up with him without even speed walking and found out he'd been in hiding since 1982, when he was so convinced that the US was going to fire nukes at his country, he fled to the wilds and holed up in a bear den.

  Of course, he'd had to fight the bear for the cave. Russians have a thing about bears. And yes, Vladimir Putin really has ridden one, shirtless. I've seen it.

  Somehow, I convinced Ivan to return to Moscow. He was so freaked out by the cars, the technology, and the fact that his family had moved to Florida, that he was reduced to a quivering, nonsensical state where he just repeated the word ketchup, over and over. I had to take him to an institution, where I left him my parents' address in Washington DC if he ever needed anything.

  He sends me postcards sometimes. Mom forwards them. I know it's him because he writes ketchup over and over. But he's made some strides because now he occasionally adds the word mustard.

  I tried to picture what would happen if I got these women back to the outside world. I decided to find out who their families are so I can at least notify them that they are still alive. It made me sad to think they thought the girls had run off. And that we didn't have flying cars.

  "Pssst!"

  I heard a sound and looked around. There was movement about fifty feet away. Just a glimpse through the trees, but it look
ed like a person.

  "Hello?" Calling out Maria would be a bad idea until I knew more.

  A small branch came sailing through the air and landed at my feet. I picked it up. Carved on the side of the stick was It's me. What gives?

  My heart leaped. Maria! "Come out and talk to me!"

  Another stick sailed through the air, again landing in front of me. Too dangerous. Someone with you. Can't talk.

  "Why not?" It had to be Maria. I started in the direction the stick came from.

  Another stick landed. Must think. Later.

  This was just annoying. I took off running toward Maria. "Wait! What's happening?"

  It sounded like someone was running away. I put on some speed, but it was tricky with the density of the trees surrounding me. I finally stopped just as I saw the curtain flutter ahead. I hadn't even seen Maria. Walking back to the log, I picked up the sticks and read them again, before breaking them into tiny pieces and tossing them aside.

  Maria must've seen Hilly. I should've turned the assassin back when she joined us. Maria must've known the agency would send someone. Hell, they might have been watching me for a while now. Seeing Hilly spooked her.

  I needed to find a way to talk to Hilly about this. If she was here for Maria, then maybe I could talk her out of doing whatever she was sent here to do. This trip was just supposed to be fun. Maria would meet us, travel with us to the camp. The girls would draw a map and take pictures, and we'd go home, parting ways with Maria once I found out what she'd wanted.

  Now it was a huge mess. Chad was a complication. Hilly kept Maria away. And we had a senior set who were probably a bad influence on my troop…at the very least, my Betty. I headed back to the camp. I needed to talk to Riley. Maybe he'd think of something.

  CHAPTER NINE

  "You talked to Maria." Riley searched my eyes quietly. "And she said someone has scared her off?"

  Chad was sitting on a stump about fifty feet away, either looking miserable or the way he usually did. It was hard to tell since we'd only seen him under stress and didn't know what he was really like. The girls and Hilly were still in the lodge with the older women, probably planning the overthrow of Soviet communism.