“Huh,” said Ida. “I could have sworn…” She frowned. “That doesn’t mean the water is safe, though. Like I said, there will be bacteria. Not to mention parasites.”

  “Parasites?” asked Scarlett.

  “Parasites,” Ida confirmed. “They’ll swim up into any body orifice and destroy your organs from within. Liquefy them. You’ll be coughing up blood and dead within seconds. Try it if you don’t believe me. Throw in any animal you find and watch it die.” She paused. “On second thought, don’t. Those poor animals shouldn’t have to suffer because of us.”

  “You know, maybe I won’t take a swim in this lake,” said Scarlett, clearly rattled by Ida’s stories of parasites and piranhas.

  “Do you think there are parasites in this water, Max?” asked Dooley.

  “I’m not sure, buddy,” I said. “But it’s possible. Who knows what lives and thrives in these waters?”

  “The waterfall is right there,” said Harriet, gesturing toward it. “Parasites and germs don’t stand a chance. They thrive in still water, not in fast-moving streams like this.”

  “I wish there were piranhas,” said Clarice with a sigh. “I could use a nice snack.”

  “But piranhas will kill you,” Kingman pointed out. “They have very sharp teeth.”

  “I have very sharp teeth,” said Clarice, opening her mouth to prove it. She was right—those teeth looked very sharp indeed. Those piranhas wouldn’t stand a chance.

  Suddenly Gran uttered a loud curse. We all looked up.

  “What’s wrong, Vesta?” asked Wilbur.

  “Somebody has stolen all of my food!” she cried. “Look! They took everything!”

  We all gathered around her bag, and it was exactly as she had said: all of the food that had been in her bag was gone.

  “Probably an animal,” said Ida. “There are lots and lots of creepy animals that live on this island. One of them must have snuck into your tent last night and taken off with the food.”

  “But it was all cans!” Gran cried. “Tin cans! What animal steals tin cans?”

  “There are animals that feed on tin,” said Ida, who seemed to be an expert on all things creepy. “They have razor-sharp teeth and love tin and everything metal.”

  The thought of an animal that feeds on tin frankly scared the bejeezus out of me. Then again, since cats aren’t made of metal, we were probably safe, right? A small comfort—but one I clung to as we sat there in the heart of that forest.

  “Oh no!” Father Reilly suddenly cried. He held up his backpack, and we saw that the same thing had happened—it was half empty. “It’s all gone! All of our supplies—taken!”

  “This is bad, you guys,” said Harriet. “I’m hungry.” She turned to Gran. “Is there any cat food left, Gran?”

  Gran checked her backpack and came out with a single bag of kibble. “They didn’t take the cat food,” she announced. “Looks like whoever took our stash wants us to feed on cat food only from now on.”

  “I have dog food,” Ida announced. “And plenty of it. So if you don’t like cat food, you can have some of Minnie’s dog food.”

  “How about you, Wilbur?” asked Gran. “Did the thieves—or the animals,” she added, glancing at Ida, “take your stash too?”

  Wilbur quickly checked his bag, and it was as we had all feared: his supplies were gone. “It’s all gone,” he said. “I brought plenty of food, and now it’s all gone.”

  “Same here,” said Scarlett sadly as she held up her bag. Someone appeared to have made a hole in the bag, possibly those tin-eating animals. “This wasn’t a cheap bag, and now it’s ruined.” Then she added, “It’s still under warranty. Do you think I’ll get my money back?”

  “Good thing we have plenty of supplies left at camp,” said Gran. “Otherwise this expedition would be sunk.”

  The discovery of the theft had quite the dampening effect on the group. Even though there was enough food for us and Minnie, our humans would have to go without for now.

  “Good thing we have water,” Scarlett pointed out as she took a sip from her bottle. “Did you know that a human being can live without food for days, but not without water?”

  “We can always forage,” Wilbur suggested. “I’m sure there’s plenty of edible stuff right here.”

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said Ida, wrinkling her nose. “Lots of these berries and fruits are poisonous to humans. And that’s without even mentioning the parasites and germs that cover these trees. Pick any berry and eat it, and you’ll be dead within seconds, Wilbur.”

  Wilbur gulped and quickly revised his earlier statement. “Yeah… I guess that’s not an option,” he admitted.

  Looked like our humans would have to go on a fast until we returned to the beach. But since they were all determined to see this mission through, they got ready to move out again.

  Turned out that Wilbur had a couple of candy bars in his backpack, and after he handed them out, they all felt ready to go on.

  As far as we were concerned, we’d all eaten our fill and were raring to go—in a sense.

  “I hope there aren’t those big scary spiders,” said Shanille, who had been deeply affected by Ida’s stories of doom and gloom. “I hate big scary spiders.”

  “You should eat them,” said Clarice. “Eat them before they eat you. Show them who’s boss.”

  Shanille shivered. “Eat a spider? Never!”

  “They’re full of protein and all the vitamins and minerals you need,” Clarice said encouragingly. “Not to mention they’re really tasty.”

  We all stared at her.

  “You’ve eaten spiders?” asked Kingman, a catch in his throat.

  “Oh sure. Not the big fat ones—you don’t see those in Hampton Cove—but plenty of the little ones. Just to tide me over between meals, you know. Or as an appetizer.” She licked her lips. “In fact, I wouldn’t mind having a few now. Of course, you need to think in big numbers. One spider won’t fill your stomach. You need a few dozen to feel satisfied.”

  And with those words, she trained her eyes on the treeline above our heads, scanning for spiders to ‘tide her over.’

  The burble of the brook behind us faded as the sounds of birds squawking high above, crickets chirping, and other forest noises filled the air.

  “We need to watch out for snakes,” said Ida. “They sneak up on you when you least expect it.”

  “Snakes?” asked Wilbur, a quiver in his voice. “You think there are snakes on the island?”

  Ida gave a humorless laugh. “Have you ever heard of an island that doesn’t have snakes? Of course there are snakes. Lots of them. So we need to watch out for one another. And if you see a snake—don’t move. Don’t you move a muscle or they will devour you whole!”

  Wilbur halted in his tracks, causing Father Reilly to bump into him. “I hate snakes,” the shopkeeper announced, and seemed to regret ever having come on this trip.

  Just then, Scarlett pointed to a beautiful, very colorful flower. “You guys!” she said. “Look at that gorgeous flower!”

  “Don’t touch it!” Ida screamed. “It’s probably⁠—”

  “Let me guess,” said Gran. “Poisonous?”

  “No—flesh-eating,” said Ida. “Put your hand in it, if you dare, and you’ll see it wither away within seconds. Or better yet, don’t.”

  “Good thing you’re here, Ida,” said Scarlett. “Or we would have been eaten by piranhas, consumed by parasites, attacked by snakes, and devoured by spiders and flesh-eating plants!”

  “I did my research,” said Ida proudly. “I know exactly what horrifying dangers lurk on Devil’s Island, and I’ll do what I can to make sure they don’t kill us!”

  It was a nice sentiment, but I couldn’t help but think that maybe if the island was as full of menace and danger as Ida made it out to be… we shouldn’t have come in the first place?

  Before long, we arrived at the location Gran had marked on her map. It was a steep rock face covered in vines and other plant life.

  “Odd,” said Gran as she frowned at her map. She put on her reading glasses to make sure she didn’t make any mistakes.

  “What’s strange?” asked Scarlett.

  “Well, according to my map there should be a tree here. A hollow tree. And the treasure should be stuffed inside that tree.”

  We all looked around, but I couldn’t detect any hollowed-out trees.

  “This map is very old,” Father Reilly pointed out. “That tree might have withered away by now. Maybe the treasure sank into the ground where the tree used to be?”

  “Yeah, but the strange thing is that there’s no rock formation on my map. None.”

  “Maybe it jutted out over time?” Wilbur suggested. “You know—earthquakes might have pushed up the land and changed things around? That does happen.”

  “Right,” said Gran. “Okay, you guys, spread out and look for either a hollowed-out tree, or where a hollowed-out tree might have stood. That’s where we’ll find the treasure!”

  And so we all spread out and started looking for that tree.

  There were plenty of trees to be found—we were in a forest, after all, which by definition is full of trees—but none of them turned out to be hollow.

  Dooley and I had teamed up to search the area, but so far we had nothing to show for our efforts.

  “I hope we don’t run into a huge spider, Max,” he said. “Clarice may enjoy eating them, but I don’t think I would like it. I have a sensitive stomach, you see—and eating a spider would upset it.”

  “I’m not going to eat a spider either,” I said. “My stomach isn’t that sensitive, but even so—I draw the line at spiders.”

  “Me too,” he said. “And besides, spiders are nice creatures. Remember the Grovers?”

  I smiled. The Grovers are a clan of spiders who gather every year in a different location. Recently, they’d picked Hampton Cove and descended on our town en masse—which had caused quite the stir. But as Dooley said, they’d all proven to be ever so nice.

  “Spiders are our friends, Max,” Dooley said. “And we don’t eat our friends.”

  “We certainly don’t,” I agreed.

  As we moved further and further away from the others, I kept my nose close to the ground, searching for a spot where a tree might once have stood, leaving a depression in the earth where treasure could be hidden. And as I did, suddenly I came upon… a pair of shoes. And when I raised my head, I saw those shoes were attached to a pair of khaki-clad legs. And when I looked higher still, I saw those legs belonged to… Mick Harper!

  The former hockey star was staring through a pair of binoculars, possibly trained on our humans. Next to him was his girlfriend, the impossibly beautiful Smilla Pinkerton.

  “What are they up to?” asked the influencer.

  “Still looking in the wrong place,” said Mick.

  Smilla grinned. “They’ll give up soon enough.”

  “I wonder who took their food,” said Mick.

  “Must be that annoying father of mine. Up to his old tricks again.”

  “You think he knows we’re on the island?”

  “He doesn’t have a clue. And I want to keep it that way.”

  Mick lowered his binoculars. “Okay, time to find that treasure, babe.”

  “Good thing I have the real map,” said Mick’s girlfriend. “Only problem is, so does my dad. So we better get cracking before he beats us to the punch.”

  And with these words, the two of them took off—in the opposite direction.

  Looked like Gran and her team had been duped!

  CHAPTER 39

  Tex woke up with a crick in his neck. The gymnastics his wife had introduced into their marriage weren’t conducive to a sense of well-being in mind, body, and spirit. Especially his body had been complaining vociferously about the rigors he’d been putting it through.

  Being Mr. Irresistible works fine when you’re young and full of energy, but closing in on fifty? That’s a whole different ball game.

  Even though he had tried with all his might to stay in shape as he approached his fifth decade on this planet, he couldn’t deny that the flexibility, stamina, and strength simply weren’t what they used to be.

  With a groan—and a chorus of complaints from stiff muscles and aching joints—he pushed himself out of bed. Marge was already up, and the moment he spotted the hefty book on her nightstand, bristling with colorful tabs, he knew his trials weren’t over. Knowing Marge, she wouldn’t rest until she’d worked her way through all one hundred positions in that cursed book of hers.

  One Hundred Tips for a Happy Time Between the Sheets? More like One Hundred Ways to Throw Out Your Back.

  It wasn’t that he disliked intimacy. In fact, he enjoyed it as much as the next person. But were all these complicated—and frankly dangerous—acrobatics really necessary? What was wrong with good old-fashioned simplicity? Then again, he knew that if he wanted to keep up with Marge, he’d have to seriously improve his game.

  Even after more than twenty-five years of marriage, he still adored her, and the last thing he wanted was to let her down. So as he stepped into the shower, letting the hot, powerful stream soothe his sore muscles and ease the tension from his body, he made a silent promise to do better.

  And since there was only one Casanova he was acquainted with in all of Hampton Cove, he decided to consult the man and note down some tips—straight from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.

  As he arrived in the kitchen for breakfast, he found Marge seated at the table, reading a note and looking rather stunned.

  “Ma is gone,” she announced.

  For a moment, his spirits soared. “Your mother… passed away?” he asked hopefully.

  She shook her head. “She’s gone camping with Scarlett.”

  “Oh,” he said, his spirits plummeting again. He should have known it was too good to be true.

  “She took the cats.” Marge looked up, a wrinkle of annoyance forming on her brow. “She knows the cats hate the thought of camping, and yet she took them.”

  “You know what your mother is like. She doesn’t think.”

  “I wonder where she could have gone. And why she didn’t tell us. She must have been planning this trip for weeks.”

  “Doubtful,” said Tex. Knowing Vesta, she probably saw something on television about camping, decided then and there to try it, bought some supplies, and roped Scarlett into her latest harebrained scheme.

  At that moment, Odelia entered the house. “Have you seen the cats?” she asked. “Are they here?”

  Without a word, Marge handed their daughter the note. Odelia read it, and her eyebrows rose so high they practically disappeared into her fringe.

  “She’s gone camping?”

  “Looks that way,” said Marge. “She didn’t mention anything to you?”

  “Nope. Not a peep.”

  “She must have left late last night.”

  “You didn’t hear her leave?”

  “No…” Marge shot a quick look at her husband. “We must have been fast asleep.”

  In truth, they’d been so preoccupied that someone could’ve fired off a cannon next to the bed and they wouldn’t have noticed. But Odelia didn’t need to know that. There are some things you don’t share with your kids—like the fact that their parents are still... happily married, even after all these years.

  “I’ll call her,” said Odelia. “At the very least, she should let us know where she is.” But if Vesta was hearing her ringtone, she wasn’t responding. “She’s not picking up,” said Odelia, sounding indignant. Just then, a call came in on her phone. She frowned at the display. “It’s Uncle Alec.” Pressing the green button, she said, “Uncle Alec?”

  “Maybe Charlene has also gone camping?” Tex suggested, though that would surprise him greatly. Vesta’s relationship with her daughter-in-law wasn’t such that she would invite her to go camping. She liked Charlene and approved of her as a wife for her son, but that was as far as things went.

  “No, I don’t know where Mick Harper is,” said Odelia now. “Chase? Yes, he’s here. Come back to work? But he quit his job, Uncle Alec. You know why—because you gave his job to Mick Harper, remember?”

  “Looks like someone’s had a change of heart,” Tex whispered to Marge, who was still processing the news that her mother had gone camping—and had taken the cats without telling anyone.

  “She can’t just do this,” Marge said. “Those cats are ours, too. She can’t simply decide to take them on a camping trip. What if something happens?”

  “Nothing will happen,” he assured her. Vesta was one of those people who seemed to have a detail of guardian angels working overtime. Probably God had decided to allocate extra budget to protecting her.

  “I’m not so sure,” said Marge, looking decidedly unhappy about Vesta’s latest stunt.

  Odelia had ended the call and looked thoughtful. “Mick Harper didn’t show up for work this morning,” she said.

  Tex checked the big kitchen clock. “It’s still early, honey. He probably isn’t due yet.”

  “He was supposed to take the early shift, which means he should’ve been at the precinct by six. Uncle Alec tried calling and even stopped by Mick’s new place, but he’s not picking up—and he’s not home either.”

  “Did he check Mick’s new girlfriend?” asked Marge. “She lives in town, doesn’t she?”

  “She does, but he’s not there either—and neither is she,” said Odelia. “And her neighbor told Uncle Alec that she saw them leave late last night, her and Mick, and they were carrying big backpacks and loading a mountain of gear into his Maserati. She says it looked like they were going camping.”

  “Camping?” asked Marge, looking up at this. She shared a look of concern with Tex. “That can’t be a coincidence. I mean, what are the odds?”

  “But I thought Gran didn’t like Mick all that much,” said Odelia. “On account of what he did to Chase’s career?”

  “I’m not saying they’ve all gone camping together,” said Marge. “But it’s still a mighty big coincidence that on the same night, they would all take off on some mysterious camping trip.”