At first light the next morning, Kat slipped a lightweight mesh harness over Nomad’s shoulders, adjusted the collar and shoulder pads, and checked the clips.
Though the husky’s cut was almost healed and not on the weight-bearing part of her foot, Kat slipped soft red boots over all four of Nomad’s paws. She’d done the same with the other five dogs. They’d be traversing unknown terrain. She didn’t want to be the cause of any injuries.
Harper watched in fascination from a heap of blankets in a warm corner of the storeroom. “Where did you learn to do that?”
“My mum was the official vet at a British husky-racing demonstration in a London park. I was her unofficial assistant. I watched a lot, learned a little.”
Kat smiled as she petted the dogs and untangled a couple of lines. “Don’t go mistaking me for someone who has a clue. I’ve watched a few husky-racing videos, but I’ve never done this in real life. Never been on a sled and never mushed. There’s a high chance we won’t make it to the end of the drive.”
“Fine by me,” said Harper. “If we fail, we fail. At least we’ll know we did everything we could to save Riley.”
“And vacate the cabin,” Kat said with a laugh.
It was 7:02 A.M. on Thursday, the day their parents were due to arrive. A rose dawn outlined the mountain behind Mirror Lake. Storm Mindy had finally moved on, but it had left bitter-cold air behind. Earlier, the girls had raided the prepper cupboard for thermal vests, beanies, gloves, and snow goggles. They’d braved the slippery track to stow their bags in the shed near the kennels. Now they were swaddled in large but ultra-warm clothes. They were as ready as they’d ever be.
To compensate for the food they’d eaten, the broken crockery, and only a feeble attempt at cleaning, Harper had left her vacation pocket money in an envelope on the breakfast bar. She’d decided against adding a note of apology.
“Let them use their imagination about who or what ate their bean chili and slept in their beds. We had to use ours about who they are. They’re lucky we’re not invoicing them for dog-walking services. There are pet-sitters who’d charge a fortune for taking care of six hyperactive huskies.”
“If all we’d done was take care of them, I’d agree,” said Kat, who was a semiprofessional pet sitter herself. “The truth is, we dragged their highly valuable pedigree huskies out in a snowstorm on a disastrous expedition to search for our missing friend—”
“They dragged us!”
“Lost them in the snow, and nearly got them mauled by a bear.”
“That was my fault,” admitted Harper. “I forgot the bear spray.”
“We were both to blame,” Kat said generously. “We won’t make the same mistake twice.”
Ironically, it was the conversation with the police officer the previous evening that had galvanized them into taking radical and illegal (they’d be stealing the huskies—at least temporarily) action.
“He’s not going to do a thing, is he, Harper?” Kat had fumed after Harper had hung up on Wednesday night.
“I don’t believe he is. Or if he does, it’ll be because all he cares about is the reward. Infuriating as it is, there’s not a whole lot we can do until our parents arrive tomorrow. Once they’re here, we’ll somehow have to convince them that we might have a chance of saving Riley where detectives have failed.”
Kat knew how that conversation would go. Nowhere. She couldn’t bear the thought of giving up. Not when they’d worked so hard and made so much progress. If there was one stone left unturned that might lead to Riley’s safe return, she and Harper had to find it.
“We have to get to Cath Woodward—Riley’s grandmother. We have to get to Silver Lake.”
Harper was incredulous. “Kat, Silver Lake’s about twenty-five miles away. How do we get there—call a cab?”
“Husky sled,” Kat answered triumphantly.
“Husky sled? But you’ve never driven a husky sled.”
“How hard can it be? Huskies are almost as fast as racehorses. I’m not sure how often they need to rest, but if we leave at dawn, we’d get to Riley’s nan in two or three hours. With luck and a tailwind.”
“And how do we get back?”
“Cath might like us and offer us a lift to Nightingale Lodge?”
“It’d pretty much have to be love at first sight for her to drop everything and drive two strange girls, six huskies, and a sled twenty-five miles through the snow,” scoffed Harper. “Plus, she’d need to own an SUV or a horse trailer … You’re not serious, are you? Have you lost the plot, Kat Wolfe? I’ll show you why it’s impossible.”
She’d spread out the map. “See these contours here? That’s a virtual cliff. And that’s a marsh packed with whatever crabs, alligators, or northern water snakes live in those things at this time of the year. They’ll eat us from the toes up.”
“Okay, okay, it’s impossible.” Kat was deflated.
Harper bent over the map. “Hold on, maybe it’s not. Otter Creek runs into Mirror Lake very close to here. There’s an excellent chance that it’s shallow enough to be frozen solid. If we could drive the huskies to that, we could follow its course to Pinto Pond, which leads to Wild-Goose River, which flows into—”
“Silver Lake!” finished Kat, so excited she could barely breathe. “Harper, do you actually believe it’s possible?”
To her great surprise, Harper had. “By using the waterways, we can cut around ten miles off the distance. That’ll make it easier on the huskies. But Kat, what happens if we get to Cath Woodward’s house and she’s the crazy old lady of Wainwright Matthews’s nightmares?”
“She won’t be,” Kat had said confidently. “Riley worships her. According to that article, once Cath was done campaigning to save the loons from the toxic metal monsters, she planned to raise money for a children’s hospital. Does that sound crazy to you?”
It was around then that Harper’s spirit of adventure had really kicked in. They’d agreed that it was too dangerous to attempt the journey in the dark but planned to leave the next morning at 7:00 A.M., when dawn broke in the wintry Adirondacks. What a thrill it would be to race across the wilderness on a sled pulled by six huskies.
“We need a plan B in case there’s no one home when we arrive,” Harper had said. “Cath might be away on vacation or off shopping in Manhattan. What do we do then?”
“We face the music,” Kat said simply. “If we can get a phone signal, we’ll call my mum and explain. If we can’t, we’ll have to make our way to Nightingale Lodge once the huskies have had a break. Our parents will probably be waiting for us and be beyond furious. We’ll be grounded until the end of time. Still, I won’t regret it. Everything we’re about to do, we’re doing to save Riley.”
Harper was overjoyed to have made a decision. It felt great to be moving on. They’d had a blast at the Dog House, but cabin fever was setting in. “I’ll return the satellite system to the storeroom and put the Raspberry Pi back in its box. Whoever unpacks it will get a shock when they find that it’s magically built itself.”
“And I’ll pack our bags and organize the husky harnesses and lines. Then we should get some sleep.”
Before going downstairs, Kat had paused to collect her watercolor pad, Sharpie, and newspaper cuttings. The pad was open at the list of Wish List members.
Gerry Meeks—Retired Insurance Investigator, Jersey City, NJ
Emilio D’Angelo—Gardener, Connecticut
Bianca D’Angelo—Artist, Napa Valley, California
Rob Lautner—Personal Trainer, Saratoga, NY
Kiara Thompson—Nurse, Saratoga, NY
Michael Lautner—Lorry Driver, Adirondacks, NY
Georgia Tey, Costume Designer, Jersey City, NJ
Petite woman?
Kat said, “We never did ID the eighth member of the gang. If Georgia’s the petite woman, we still have one left to find.”
Harper smiled. “We have to leave something for the cops to do, otherwise they’d be redundant.”
“Why do you think the gang did it? Greed, or something else?”
“I think that the Clue Club players became so obsessed with trying to solve mysteries that they started to believe they were criminal masterminds themselves. After eight perfect heists, they thought they were invincible.”
“They nearly were,” said Kat. “If Riley hadn’t witnessed the snatching of the diamond necklace, they’d be counting their millions on a yacht somewhere by now. That’s why we have to help find her before it’s too late. If the Wish List gang can silence her, Gerry Meeks gets a get-out-of-jail-free card.”
Harper logged on to the internet one last time. She wanted to wipe the Raspberry Pi’s drive before packing it away.
She did a last Google search for Riley Matthews updates. Red headlines popped out at her. Detectives searching for Riley Matthews had finally caught a break. One of the bodyguards had helped a police artist put together a sketch of the man who’d ambushed their vehicle. He’d been dressed in a park ranger’s uniform and had shown them a fake badge.
The composite sketch gave Harper the creeps. The man had mean, piggy eyes; two chins; and a hairline that had retreated so far it was making an acquaintance with his neck.
“Hey, Kat. The cops have put out a composite sketch of the man who ambushed the vehicle Riley was traveling in.”
“Brilliant, send it to the printer.” Kat was on her way down to the storeroom and kept going. “We’ll take it to Riley’s grandmother in case she hasn’t seen it.”
Harper didn’t answer. She was staring in disbelief at her screen. A window she thought she’d shut down was still open. Accustomed to her own latest-model, super-secure, firewall-enhanced laptop, it hadn’t occurred to her to block the location when she Skype-called the sheriff’s office. If the cop she’d spoken to decided to trace the call, he’d be able to pinpoint where the call came from.
It was a rookie error. An inexcusable one.
The only saving grace was that they were in the wrong cabin. Nothing linked them to the Dog House. Provided they left at dawn as planned, there was an excellent chance they’d get away with it. If the police officer who’d taken her call was anything like the state troopers on the TV shows she watched, he’d be stuffing his unshaven face with doughnuts and bad coffee at that hour, boots up on his desk.
Should she tell Kat about her blunder? Harper had concluded that there was no reason to add to Kat’s worries. Soon the Dog House would be a distant memory. Everything would be fine.
Now, as the early-morning light filtered through a narrow window, the huskies leaped around the storeroom in a frenzy of anticipation. To them, harnesses meant fun. They meant a thrilling race across the ice or through the snow. They couldn’t know how much was at stake.
Harper took a deep breath and allowed herself to put the call to the police officer out of her head. Within minutes, she and Kat and the huskies would be fleeting shadows, further concealed by the banks of Otter Creek.
After that, it wouldn’t matter if all the cops in the Adirondacks descended on the Dog House. They might find fingerprints and a bit of a mess, but since the girls didn’t have criminal records, that wouldn’t help them.
Harper climbed onto the sled with some trepidation.
Kat joined her and gathered up the ganglines, which served as reins.
“Harper, are you sure you want to do this? You seem anxious. It’s not too late to change your mind. I’ll understand, I promise. This could be our most dangerous adventure ever. We’re planning to race six huskies across miles of unknown rivers, ponds, and streams that may or may not be frozen. We could fall through the ice, crash, or get attacked by another bear. Or a hostile person. We’ve got no idea what we’ll meet or how Cath Woodward is going to feel about us when we get there. I believe it’s worth the risk, but if you don’t, just say the word. I’ll put the huskies in the kennels, and we’ll hike to Nightingale Lodge.”
Harper had a sudden memory of her laughing comment to Jet’s twins on that first, innocent night in the Adirondacks: Kat’s as brave as a tiger and as loyal as a wolf.
“Kat, you trust the huskies to keep us safe, don’t you?”
Kat adjusted her snow goggles. “They saved us from a charging bear and again in a blizzard. We’re their family. I’d trust them—and you—with my life.”
“You’re my family, and I trust you too,” said Harper. “Let’s do it.”
Kat picked up the storeroom remote control. “It bothers me that we couldn’t find Rocky. I’ve left plenty of food and water for him, but I’d have liked to say goodbye. But we need to get going. As you can tell, as soon as they’re in their harnesses, huskies are like thoroughbreds. All they want to do is run.”
She was about to open the garage-style door when Nomad barked. Rebel snarled too.
“What’s wrong, girl? Rebel, what have you heard?”
A split second later, Kat and Harper heard it too. It was the sound they’d dreaded more than any bear’s roar or any thunderstorm.
It was the sinister growl of a car engine.