CHAPTER 16

At breakfast the next morning, a FedEx truck pulled into the driveway just as we were starting in on big steaming bowls of Delphine’s deluxe oatmeal. Everyone watched with interest as the driver strode up the front path carrying a package. Sirena went to the door to meet him.

“It’s for you, Truly,” she told me a moment later, setting the package down on the sideboard beside a platter of homemade raspberry rhubarb muffins. I started to get up, but she held up her hand. “Breakfast first! Most important meal of the day for mermaids.”

I sighed and sat back down. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You need lots of fuel, ladies. We have a busy day ahead. Zadie and Lenore and I have scheduled extra pool time. We have a lot to learn before the revue this weekend.”

When Sirena finally excused us from the table, I bolted for the sideboard and grabbed my package. I looked at the return address label. It was from Aunt True!

“See you all poolside in five minutes!” said Sirena. “Move your tails, mermaids!”

I dashed down the path to Whelk, where I flung myself on my bunk and tore the wrapping off the package. Inside, a big envelope with my name written on it in my aunt’s bold handwriting was waiting. I pulled out a card featuring an oval picture of a tranquil forest scene—a stand of majestic redwood trees reflected in a pool of water. Tall timber, I thought instantly, and smiled. Aunt True knew how to make a point. A line of her crisp handwriting wound around the oval’s edge: To the Unsinkable Truly Lovejoy, my favorite eldest niece, who really truly knows how to make the best of everything. Inside, she’d written, Don’t ever be afraid to stand out in a crowd. (Even if it’s a crowd of mermaids!)

Aunt True was the best!

I propped the card up on my bedside table and turned my attention to the rest of box’s contents. My aunt had sent maple sugar candy, too! Before I could rummage any further, though, my cousin and friends burst in.

“Where’s your bathing suit?” said Mackenzie. “Hurry up—we’re due at the pool.”

My care package would have to wait.

The rest of the day was a lot like the day before, except that we skipped siesta after lunch in order to squeeze in as much pool time as possible. We paused midafternoon for a snack (homemade energy bars, courtesy of Delphine) and another Esther Williams movie—Easy to Love this time, which had more over-the-top stunts, including Esther doing water-ski jumps and diving from a helicopter. Actually, her stunt double did that one.

“The helicopter scene is the only one she ever used a stuntwoman for,” Zadie told us. “And wisely so. We found out later that she was pregnant at the time.”

For dinner, Delphine whipped up an amazing soup she called “cioppino,” which was full of big chunks of fish, along with scallops and shrimp and clams and mussels. She served it with crusty homemade bread.

“Mermaids have excellent manners,” Sirena told us, “but dipping your bread in the cioppino is allowed.”

As we were finishing, Sirena tapped her glass. “You worked very hard today, and Delphine and I are proud of all of you. As a reward for your efforts, we’re rearranging our evening schedule slightly. Instead of Mer-mopoly and the other games we had planned, we’re moving up one of the academy’s most anticipated activities—Bling Night!”

A chorus of cheers filled the dining room. I looked over at Mackenzie and my friends. They were clearly as clueless as I was.

“Mermaids love bling,” Sirena continued, trotting out another of her fake mermaid facts. She reached into a drawer in the sideboard behind her and pulled out several long sparkly necklaces. She draped them over her head and added a trio of bracelets and half a dozen rings. The result was blinding. “How many of you brought yours with you?”

Every hand around the dining table flew up except ours.

“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, thanks to the crowdsourcing.”

“Really?” said Mackenzie. “That’s great! Way to go, Lucas!”

Lucas gave her a shy smile.

“Take a look at this one,” said Scooter, holding up the first picture for us to see. It was out of focus, but if I squinted I could just make out what was written on the suspect’s baseball cap: DON’T MESS WITH TEXAS.

“Um,” I began as Mackenzie blurted, “That’s our Uncle Rooster!”

Lucas looked crestfallen.

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “It’s still really good detective work.”

Scooter showed us the other two pictures, both taken on the morning of the race. One was of a middle-aged woman wearing a Red Sox baseball cap. She was setting up a lawn chair on the village green and appeared to be all by herself. The other was of a pair of teenage boys about Danny’s age who were lounging on the steps of the gazebo.

“Definitely suspicious,” said Cha Cha.

“That’s what we thought,” said Calhoun. “We’ve asked around a little bit, but so far, nothing.”

“Keep at it,” I told them. “We’re with you in spirit.”

“Talk to you guys again tomorrow night?” asked Scooter, with a hopeful glance at my cousin.

I held up Saga of a Ship. “We might be at a book signing. How about you text us if you get any more new leads or learn anything about our suspects?”

After we hung up, Mackenzie reached over for the book I was still holding. “Can I take a look?”

I passed it to her. Cha Cha scooted closer. Jasmine climbed up onto her bunk and leaned over the edge, her long dark hair trailing down like seaweed.

“Looks kind of interesting,” my cousin said, riffling through the pages.

“It’s long, though,” added Jasmine, yawning. “And there aren’t many pictures.” She reached out and fingered the strand of beads I’d looped around my neck. “Ooo, pretty!”

“Mermaids love bling,” I deadpanned, and they all laughed.

“So are you really going to read a giant book about pirates?” asked Mackenzie.

I shrugged. “They’re more interesting than mermaids. They were real, for one thing.”

I shared my maple sugar candy with them, and the three of us talked for a while, and then it was time for bed.

“Night, Pixie. Night, Nixie!” Mackenzie called softly from across the room. “Night, Grania!”

“Night, Neptunette!” I called back, stifling a giggle.

There was an echoing giggle from Cha Cha’s bunk, which got Jasmine going, and pretty soon we were all giggling.

“It’s not that funny, you guys!” Mackenzie protested, but she was laughing too.

“Yes it is,” I told her, which set us all off again.

Our giggle fit finally subsided, and the room grew quiet. Propping myself up with my pillow, I switched on the flashlight app on my cell phone and opened Saga of a Ship. I leafed through a few pages, then turned to the index and ran my finger idly down the entries. Something caught my eye under the listings for C: Cherry Island, p. 87.

I frowned. There was a Cherry Island on Lake Lovejoy. The book couldn’t be referring to that, though, could it? For one thing, Cherry Island was only our island’s nickname. Its real name, the one that appeared on maps, was MacPherson’s Island. Only locals called it Cherry Island. Curious, I turned to page eighty-seven and hunted until I found the reference: Rumors persisted well into the 1800s about one of the survivors of the Windborne. It was said that he fled with his share of the treasure and buried it in a place called Cherry Island, where it has remained undiscovered to this day.”

I put the book down thoughtfully, then reached for my cell phone. CHERRY ISLAND’S REAL NAME IS MACPHERSON’S ISLAND, RIGHT?

A few seconds later my phone vibrated. PRETTY SURE, Hatcher texted back. WHY ARE YOU STILL UP? MERMAIDS NEED THEIR BEAUTY REST.

I smiled. I’M NOT A MERMAID, I’M GRANIA THE PIRATE.

WHAT?? DID YOU GET A PART??

HUH?

THE PLAY, DUH.

He thought I was talking about The Pirates of Penzance.

NO, I texted back. I DIDN’T TRY OUT, REMEMBER?

“Truly, turn that thing off, you’re keeping us all awake,” Mackenzie mumbled.

GOTTA GO, I texted. SURROUNDED BY CRABBY MERMAIDS. NIGHT!

NIGHT!

I switched off my phone and lay there in my bunk in the dark, staring up at the bottom of Jasmine’s mattress. Saga of a Ship had to be referring to a different Cherry Island. It couldn’t possibly be our Cherry Island.

Pirates in Pumpkin Falls? Preposterous!