George pulled out her camera and started snapping pictures. Most of the others were doing the same, including Robin.
“Ooh, look!” the little girl cried after a moment. “That one’s yawning!”
“Where?” Frankie exclaimed, shoving her way to that side of the boat.
Almost everyone else also crowded over that way as well, including the camera crew, who were filming away. Kat hung back a little, still seeming nervous about letting Pretty Boy get too close to the edge. But just about everybody else did their best to get a good view. I found myself shuffled to the very front of the group, my knees pressed against the low side of the boat.
I watched the crocodiles for a moment, then decided to give someone else a chance at a front-row view. “Excuse me,” I said, beginning to turn around.
But just then I felt hands on my back, giving me a hard shove. I was already a little off-kilter from trying to turn on the gently bobbing boat, so that was all it took to make me lose my balance.
My shin clunked the edge of the boat as I scrabbled helplessly at the air, trying to grab on to whatever I could. But there was nothing there. With a scream I felt myself tumbling over the side of the boat.
Splash! I hit the water and went under.
SCARE TACTICS
As I said before, it takes a lot to scare me. But being dumped into a tropical swamp with dozens of crocodiles all around me? Yeah, that’ll do it.
I flailed my way back to the surface, squinting to keep the algae and assorted slime out of my eyes. To make matters worse, I realized that although the boat’s motor was off, it was still moving, drifting slowly with the current. By the time I looked around, it was already a dozen yards behind me.
“Nancy!” Bess shrieked. “Quick, everyone — she fell overboard!”
I was vaguely aware of the commotion on the boat as the guests realized what had happened. But much more of my attention was taken up by staring at the crocodiles in front of me. They looked even bigger at eye level.
The closest one eyed me with lazy curiosity. Its head raised a little higher in the water, and it glided closer.
I gulped, frozen with terror. Behind me, I heard the boat’s motor come to life with a roar. But I knew it was already too late. There was no way it could turn around and get back here before that croc reached me....
“Hang on, Nancy!” Sara’s voice called out over the sound of the motor.
A second later I heard a series of small splashes. The crocodile turned its head. For a long moment it just hovered there, staring off to the side. Then it began gliding away in that direction!
I went limp, almost bobbing beneath the surface again. But then I realized this could be my only chance....
Spinning around, I struck out for the boat. It was coming toward me, and as I reached the side, a dozen arms stretched down to pull me back on board. I collapsed on the floor, gasping. Bess grabbed a towel and tossed it over me, while Hildy started checking me over in her maternal way. The others just stared at me, shock written all over their faces.
“I already knew you were, like, a magnet for trouble,” Deirdre commented, sounding shaken. “But this is crazy! First that zip line and now this?”
“Yeah.” Frankie nodded. “You really need to be more careful.”
“Whoa,” I blurted out as soon as I regained enough breath, ignoring Frankie’s comment. “That was close! What made that croc leave me alone?”
“It was Sara’s quick thinking,” Alicia said, her voice shaking. “She grabbed some of that chum and tossed it overboard in the other direction.”
Sitting up, I could see a frenzy of crocodiles still fighting over the bloody chunks of meat. I shuddered, feeling sick as I realized how close I’d come to being the object of that food fight myself.
“So you’re sure you have no idea who shoved you?” George asked me for the umpteenth time.
I shook my head. My friends and I were sitting by the pool back at the resort, doing our best to recover from my close call. As soon as we had been alone, I’d told them about feeling those hands on my back. Unfortunately, neither of them had seen who had shoved me.
“I’m guessing whoever it was, it’s the same person who tampered with the zip line,” I said. “After all, we were with just about the exact same group. And I guess this also makes it clear that I’m the target.”
Bess shivered despite the late-afternoon tropical heat. “It certainly looks that way,” she agreed.
“This lets out Sarene as a suspect,” George said. “She wasn’t along this time.”
“And Juliana and Phyllis, too,” I added. “Plus, there were no unknown people on board except the boat’s driver, and we’re all pretty sure he stayed at the controls the whole time.”
Bess nodded. “I remember seeing him still in his seat right before I heard the splash,” she said. “I just wish I’d been looking over in your direction at the time instead!”
“Me too.” I sighed. “We can probably cross Poppy and Adam off the list, though. I’m pretty sure they were still huddled at the back of the boat with Hildy at that point. So there go all our likely suspects.” I bit my lip. “Still, even if Alicia and Enrique seemed ready to believe it was an accident, I know it wasn’t.”
“Speaking of Enrique, do you think he could’ve done it?” Bess suggested. “Maybe he was trying to shut us up after he caught us at his computer earlier.”
George brushed at a mosquito that was buzzing around her head. “Maybe. But only if he’s the one who’s been leaving those mysterious notes and stuff.”
I squinted up at the cloudless blue sky, doing my best to puzzle through what little we knew. “But why would the note writer pull something like that?” I mused aloud. “I thought she wanted us to look deeper into things here at Casa Verde, not scare us off completely.”
“Okay, let’s be logical about this,” George said, finally squashing the mosquito against her arm and then flicking it away. “Who could have shoved you today? It wasn’t the boat driver. Poppy and Adam are out. Hildy was back with the not-so-happy couple, so she’s out too — not that we ever suspected her in the first place. And I’m guessing Robin probably isn’t some kind of kid psycho, either. So who’s left?”
“Enrique, like I said,” Bess replied. “Alicia and Sara. The camera crew.”
“Frankie, Kat, Deirdre,” I supplied, trying to recall who else had been on the boat.
George brightened. “Hey, what if it was Deirdre?” she said. “We already know she’s evil.”
“Get real.” Bess rolled her eyes. “Deirdre may be a lot of things, but I don’t think she’d actually try to murder Nancy.”
“Don’t be so sure,” George muttered darkly.
I ignored her, still pondering our dwindling list of suspects. “Let’s not get too focused on today. We need to think about everything that’s happened so far and who had the opportunity,” I suggested. “And I’m starting to think we should start way back at the beginning.”
George shot me a look. “You mean the stuff that Juliana did?”
“Juliana never confessed to any of it,” I reminded them, feeling unsettled. “And most of our evidence was circumstantial. What if she’s been innocent all along?”
“But Pretty Boy...” Bess began.
I nodded. “That’s what keeps throwing me off too,” I admitted. “But how do we know somebody else didn’t dognap him, then plant him in Juliana’s room to throw suspicion off themselves?”
“I guess it’s possible,” Bess agreed thoughtfully. “Okay, then starting from the beginning, we have our luggage disappearing. Then there were a couple of those mysterious notes about looking deeper. And, of course, Pedro getting drugged and Pretty Boy disappearing.”
“I guess it’s safe to say the camera crew is out, then,” George said. “They didn’t get here until way after all that stuff happened.”
I stared out at the sparkling waterfall at the end of the pool. “They weren’t here yet for the turtle thing either. And most of our other suspects were with us that whole day.” I sighed, frustration welling up again. “It just doesn’t make sense!”
“Maybe it does,” Bess said. “Maybe Juliana did dognap Pretty Boy and do some of the other stuff. But somebody else did the rest, like the zip line and the shove today.”
I nodded slowly, thinking over that theory. “The only thing that’s clear is that somebody seems to have it out for Casa Verde,” I said. “And after seeing that sewer pipe — and maybe that injured macaw, too — I’m starting to wonder myself.”
“That brings us back to Enrique,” Bess said. “He was at Casa Verde when the turtle appeared. And he was along with us today and also at the zip line place.”
“Yes, but you could say the same thing about Alicia and Sara,” George pointed out. “Well, except for the turtle part, since they were on the snorkeling trip with us.”
Bess blinked. “Wait, are you sure? I know Alicia came, but I think Sara skipped that one.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I said with a sigh. “But anyway, I think you may be right in thinking Enrique is about the best suspect we’ve got at this point. And it would make sense that he could be working with Juliana.”
George looked thoughtful. “True. She could’ve been that mysterious voice on the phone, but either of them could have been the one luring us out into the jungle.”
“And Enrique oversaw a lot of the construction of Casa Verde,” I said. “I remember Cristobal mentioning it. So he would know if corners were cut.”
“Yeah,” George said. “Because he’d be the one doing it! So why would he expose his own wrongdoing?”
“Maybe he feels guilty? Or maybe Cristobal was the one who ordered the shortcuts — who knows?” Bess shrugged. “Anyway, it does kind of make sense that it would be Enrique, given that Nancy is his latest target. He could blame her for getting Juliana into trouble.”
“Enrique could have taken our luggage.” I started ticking things off on my fingers. “He could have left the notes. He could have tampered with the zip line. He could have pushed me overboard today.”
“What about the dognapping incident?” Bess put in. “Enrique wasn’t with us on that trip.”
“No, but that makes it even more likely. It would have been easy enough for him to steal the drug from the veterinary supplies and put it in Pedro’s water bottle,” I pointed out. “And he could have followed us in a separate vehicle and waited until Pedro passed out so he could snatch Pretty Boy.”
George shook her head, still looking unconvinced. “But then why would he want to show us that sewer pipe?” she asked. “I think Bess is right — we might be dealing with two culprits here. Maybe someone is trying to expose problems at Casa Verde, and Enrique is trying to shut them — and us — up before that happens.”
I thought about that for a moment. The theory certainly would explain why we were having so much trouble pinning all the problems on one person. Before I could reach any useful conclusions, however, we heard voices approaching.
It was the film crew. It turned out they were planning to make up the postponed pool scene now that the graffiti had been cleaned off the waterfall.
“Over there, please, ladies!” Harvey called to Kat and Deirdre, who were dressed in their bikinis again. This time Poppy was nowhere in sight; I guessed she had more important things on her mind than fixing Kat’s outfit or touching up Deirdre’s makeup. By the time we’d docked earlier, she and Adam had appeared to have reached a tentative truce, though their future had still seemed very much up in the air.
As Kat and Deirdre giggled and struck a pose, I noticed the assistant director standing back behind the cameramen, watching the scene. That reminded me that I’d never had a chance to talk to him earlier.
“Be right back,” I told my friends. Then I hurried over to Mr. Michaels. “Hi there,” I greeted him.
He blinked at me. “Hello. I hope you’ve recovered from your swim with the crocs earlier. Amazing how many ways the wildlife around here have to try to kill you, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it’s quite a place. But listen, I was just wondering a few things.”
His gaze was already wandering back to the pool, where Kat and Deirdre were now pretending to sunbathe while Pretty Boy scampered around barking. “Yes?” he said, sounding a little impatient.
“I remember Harvey mentioning that he’s a freelancer, but I think he said you work directly for Green Solutions,” I went on. “How long have you been with the company?”
He shrugged. “Long enough,” he said. “Why?”
“I just had some questions about how they do business. You know — like how closely they would have worked with the Arrojos to design and build this place, or —”
“Well, you’ve got the wrong guy, then.” He cut me off with a dismissive look. “I do the publicity stuff for GS, that’s all. The rest is none of my business. Now, if you’ll excuse me...”
He hurried over to adjust one of the lights, then went to talk to Harvey. I shrugged and headed back to my friends.
“Dead end,” I told them. “He says he doesn’t know anything.”
Bess checked her watch. “It’s almost time for dinner,” she said. “Let’s go back to the room and change.”
George and I agreed, though I couldn’t help feeling unsettled and disappointed. Time was running out. Was I going to have to admit that I’d finally found a mystery I just couldn’t solve? It was certainly looking that way.
I was trailing behind my friends, lost in thought, when we reached the room. But I snapped out of it when I heard Bess gasp loudly.
“What?” I asked, rushing over.
She pointed. There was a note lying on the nearest bed. Racing over to grab it, I saw that this one was scrawled in a much more casual hand than usual. It read:
COME TO THE VET HUT
IF YOU WANT YOUR ANSWERS.
George was looking at it over my shoulder. “Well, what are we waiting for?” she exclaimed. “This could be our last chance to solve this thing!”
We all turned and scurried back out of the room. Moments later we skidded to a stop in front of the vet hut. The door was ajar, but nobody seemed to be around.
“Let’s go,” I said, stepping forward to push the door the rest of the way open.
When I peered inside, things were dim and quiet. The only thing out of order was a straw hat lying on the floor a few feet inside the door.
Bess saw it too. “Alicia and Sara never wear hats like that,” she said, stepping inside. “They always wear those green ones with the Casa Verde logo on the front and their names embroidered on the brim.”
“Think it’s a clue?” George asked.
“Not sure what a straw hat’s supposed to tell us,” I said as I followed them in, though I couldn’t help recalling that the mystery figure I’d seen at the zip line place had been wearing a similar hat.
Meanwhile, Bess bent down and picked up the hat, then jumped in surprise. There was a small, bright yellow frog sitting on the floor where the hat had been. Its throat pulsed rhythmically as it stared up at us.
“Oh, look!” Bess exclaimed. “There was a cute little frog hiding under it.”
“Cool!” George stepped forward for a better look. “Here, I think I can catch it...”
She slowly bent closer to the tiny, jewel-like creature. But just as she cupped her hands as if to grab it, there was a clatter of footsteps behind us, followed by a loud gasp.
“Stop!” someone yelled. “Don’t touch that frog!”
CONFESSION AND CONFUSION
I spun around in surprise. Sara was standing there, her normally tanned face as white as a sheet.
George had frozen in place. Sara leaped forward and pushed her aside.
“Stay back,” she ordered. “Let me catch it.”
She grabbed a long-handled net from the counter nearby. Wielding it expertly, she scooped up the little yellow frog and dumped it into an empty tank, which she then covered carefully with a piece of mesh.
Finally she turned to face us again, still looking pale and very serious. “That was close,” she murmured, collapsing against a counter.
George frowned. “What’s the big deal?” she demanded. “We weren’t going to hurt it if that’s what you’re so worried about.”
Sara stared at her. “No, that’s not what I was worried about.” She glanced into the tank, where the frog was looking around at its new surroundings. “That’s a golden dart frog. Most people consider it the most poisonous vertebrate in the entire world.”
I gulped, glancing at the innocent-looking little creature. “Really?”
“Really.” Sara nodded.
Bess looked stricken. “I think I remember reading about those,” she said. “They have this toxic stuff on their skin that, like, attacks the nervous system or something.”
“Yes, a frog of this species generally has enough toxin in its skin to kill at least a dozen humans,” Sara said.
“Whoa!” I looked at George. She was speechless for once, seeming horrified by her close call. My mind flashed briefly to what Mr. Michaels had said earlier. It seemed he was right. There really were a lot of ways the wildlife around here could kill you.
“But wait.” Bess scrunched up her face, looking puzzled. “I didn’t think there were any of those supertoxic species in this part of Costa Rica. I know there are other slightly less poisonous frogs here, but —”
“No, you’re right — this particular species is found only in Colombia,” Sara confirmed. “There’s no way it just wandered in here on its own. Someone must have released it on purpose.”
With that, she burst into tears. I was even more startled by that than by the revelation about the deadly frog.
“It’s okay,” Bess said, instantly going into soothing mode. She hurried over and patted Sara on the back. “We’re all okay. George didn’t get close enough to touch it, thanks to you. No harm done.”
Sara shook her head, still crying. “It’s — it’s not that,” she sobbed. “I just never thought things would go this far....”
I traded a confused look with my friends. What was she talking about?
“This frog — I think it was a message for me,” Sara choked out through her tears. “I never thought Enrique would do anything like this. I was only trying to help....”
Now I was starting to catch on. “Wait. It was you, wasn’t it?” I asked her as several puzzle pieces finally slid into place in my head. It was all making sense now. “You were the one who left the other notes. You must have found out this resort wasn’t as green as it’s supposed to be and you wanted to get the word out. Is that it?”
Sara’s sobs slowed and she shot me a nervous look. But finally she sighed and nodded.
“I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing,” she said. “Not with Casa Verde passing itself off as a model of environmental living.”
“Of course,” Bess murmured, catching on as well. “We always did notice how passionate you are about the environment.”
George still looked a bit confused. “But how could you have done all the bad stuff?” she asked. “It’s not like you could carry that sea turtle in on your shoulders.”
“I had help from some friends in town,” Sara said with a sniffle. “But please, do not blame them. They are innocent, and thought it all merely a prank against the Arrojos for disrupting our quiet life with more tourists. They meant no real harm. And I wanted only to make a statement that could not be ignored.”
“Did the same friends help you steal our luggage too?” I asked.
She nodded, sniffing again. “I told them only to hide it, but they went too far,” she said. “I am very sorry your things were ruined.”
After that, the rest of it came out. Sara was the one who’d dognapped Pretty Boy, though she assured us that she would never have hurt him.
“What about poor Pedro?” George challenged her. “He could have been hurt if he’d had too much of that tranquilizer you gave him.”
“I am familiar with the drug,” Sara insisted. “I knew exactly how much to put in the water to make him nod off without harming him. And do not worry—it would not have acted fast enough to cause an accident. He would have had time to pull over when he began to feel drowsy.”
I nodded, feeling at least a bit comforted by that. But I still had more questions for her.
“Was Juliana involved in this at all?” I asked.
“No, I merely needed a place to hide the dog when I feared I might get caught.” Sara shrugged. “Juliana, she has a wealthy family. I knew they would make sure she did not get in too much trouble.”
Was it my imagination, or did I catch a whiff of sour grapes in her voice? Then again, maybe it wasn’t surprising. The two of them were both locals, and close enough to the same age to have been in school together. Who knew what history they might have?
“I do feel terrible for spooking Cristobal’s horse that day,” Sara put in. “I never thought a seasoned trail horse would react so strongly. I only wanted to scare Cristobal a little to make him realize he cannot control everything, which I thought might convince him to listen to me.”
I’d nearly forgotten about that incident. During a beach ride earlier in the week, a small mechanized toy had sent the horse that Cristobal had been riding into a panic, which had set off several of the other horses as well. There had been a few dangerous moments, though in the end, nobody had been badly hurt.
“Well, what about Nancy?” George put in hotly. “You could have killed her with that stunt today! Not to mention the zip line thing.”
“What?” Sara’s brown eyes widened with horror. “But I did not do either of those things! I would never purposely put anyone in such danger! I swear it!”
The three of us traded skeptical looks. After everything she’d just confessed to, Sara’s word didn’t mean much.
“Really,” she insisted, her eyes filling with tears again. “Don’t you remember? I was the one who lured the crocodiles away from Nancy so she could be pulled to safety!”
“That’s true,” Bess admitted. “But how do we know you didn’t just do that to throw off suspicion?”
“Never mind,” I said. “Right now I have a more important question. Why did you do it?”
I turned to Sara, pretty sure I already knew the answer. But I wanted to hear it from her.
She glanced over at the frog again, looking somber. “I have been here from the beginning,” she said. “Even longer than Alicia or most of the others. I have seen the shortcuts that were taken in the building of this place. The environmental ravages that have been hidden from most eyes.”
“Like that sewer pipe?” Bess guessed. “Were you the one who led us out there?”
Sara nodded. “I tried to call the investigative-reporter woman first,” she said. “But she did not answer her phone, and when I remembered hearing her saying that Nancy had assisted her in the earlier investigation, I decided to try your room next.”
Letting the issue of my “assisting” Frankie pass, I pressed on. “So who else knows about this?” I asked. “Are Cristobal and Enrique both in on the corner cutting?”
“I am not sure about Cristobal,” Sara said, staring again at the poison dart frog. “I tried to speak with him about it when I first noticed that the builders were not following the specs on the original plans. But he brushed me off, seeming to think I knew nothing about it.” She shrugged. “As for Enrique, I am certain he is aware of everything. I have seen him near the problematic areas enough to have no doubts. The sewer pipe, the wires that injured that bird... Yes, he knows.”
I couldn’t help feeling sad to hear that. Enrique was an odd duck, but he had seemed nice and sincere beneath his shyness. “How could he have betrayed the whole mission of Casa Verde that way?” I mused aloud. “Possibly even to the point of deceiving his own brother?”
George shot me a grim look. “I bet I know the answer to that,” she said. “Money. It makes people do crazy things.”
Sara sighed. “I think you are right. At least it is the only conclusion I have been able to reach. Enrique must have gone behind the backs of Green Solutions, and probably Cristobal as well, so he could pocket the extra cash.”
Her mention of Green Solutions made me remember the encounters with Phyllis. “I wonder if this explains those Internet rumors,” I said. “Maybe someone else found out that things weren’t kosher here, so to speak, and blamed the consulting company.”
“Unless Green Solutions was involved in all this too,” George said.
I nodded. “It’s possible, I guess. But we’ll have to leave that to someone else to figure out.” I glanced at Sara. “In the meantime, I think you need to tell Cristobal the truth. All of it.”
She looked kind of queasy, but nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I think it is time.”
I hesitated, still not sure whether to believe her claim that she hadn’t been responsible for the most dangerous stunts. Looking into her eyes and hearing her talk about her reasons for doing what she’d done, I couldn’t quite find it in myself to believe she could be capable of attempted murder. But if not her, then who? Was it possible both incidents could have been accidents? Thinking back to the feeling of those hands on my back, I didn’t think so. But I decided to let it drop for now.
Soon all four of us were heading into the main building. Sara hadn’t said a word on the walk over; I could only imagine what she was thinking. Bess, George, and I had been mostly quiet too, aside from a little small talk about packing for our flight home the next day. It was hard to believe our stay at Casa Verde would soon be over. Despite all the problems, it had been the trip of a lifetime.
“Oops,” Bess said, glancing at her watch as we passed the dining room windows and heard voices inside. “I just realized we’re late for dinner.”
We hurried into the lobby. As we did, the sounds from the dining room were drowned out by other voices — raised, angry ones. Turning the corner, we saw Cristobal and Enrique glaring at each other in the hallway outside the kitchen. And a moment later, Cristobal let out a roar of anger and swung his fist at his brother’s face!
OUT IN THE OPEN
“Cristobal, no!” Sara cried, leaping forward.
We hurried after her. Enrique had ducked quickly so that Cristobal’s fist had missed its mark. And both men seemed startled enough by our sudden arrival to stop what they were doing.
But Cristobal still looked furious. “Do not interfere!” he cried. “My brother needs to learn a lesson about deceiving me!”
I winced, guessing that he’d figured out what was going on at Casa Verde at about the same time we had. “Please, Cristobal,” I said. “Let’s just talk about this. What happened?”
Cristobal glared at Enrique. “A crazy American woman just came to visit me,” he said, his normally jovial voice sounding icy. “She all but forced me to come along with her to look at what she claimed some locals had told her were nonrenewable insulation and other materials in one of the buildings. I went merely to humor her — but to my surprise, her accusations were correct!” His fists clenched again. “How could you, Enrique? I had suspicions before, as you know, but to have my face shoved in it by a total stranger...”
He switched to Spanish, continuing to yell at Enrique. But it didn’t matter. I’d heard enough to guess the rest. It sounded as if our friend Phyllis had been talking to the locals and had finally found someone to give her some dirt. It also seemed that some of the intense conversations I’d witnessed between the brothers had involved this topic as well. Had Cristobal paid more attention to Sara than she’d thought, or had he seen or heard something else that had raised questions? I supposed it didn’t really matter.
I turned to Enrique, who was standing there stoney-faced. “Listen,” I said, “for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I accused Juliana before. I realize now she didn’t do anything wrong.”
That made Enrique’s face crumble. “Juliana,” he muttered, burying his face in his hands. “No, she knew nothing of any of this. I always knew she was innocent.”
After that came a flurry of explanations. Sara stepped forward and, her voice shaking, admitted what she’d done. Cristobal looked shocked at first, but acknowledged that he should have listened to her in the first place.
Then it was Enrique’s turn. He confessed to everything that Cristobal had accused him of doing. “It was all me,” he said, his face twisting with guilt. “I did it for the money. I was fully responsible for it all — yes, some local construction people did the actual work, but they aren’t to blame. They did only what I ordered.” He shot his brother a haunted glance. “I am sorry, Cristobal. I do not know what else to say.”
By now the other guests were trickling out of the dining room, attracted by all the raised voices. There were a few minutes of chaos as the guests all got caught up. When Kat found out that Sara was the one who’d dognapped Pretty Boy, she freaked out loudly and at great length.
“Just chill out,” Deirdre snapped at last, apparently as fed up with her cousin’s hysterics as the rest of us were. “The little twerp is okay, isn’t he? So it’s over.”
