Free Stalk, Don't Run by Carolyn Keene Page B

thing or two about coffee.
    When we asked Lola about Mia, she replied, “She just didn’t show up, which is too bad, because Mia made a mean vanilla latte.”
    “Did you call her?” I asked.
    “I tried several times,” Lola said. “She never answered or returned my voice mail.”
    Lola excused herself to help a barista having trouble with the espresso machine.
    We ordered our lattes, then raced to get an empty booth by the wall for privacy. Privacy was just what we needed to discuss this case—but as we were about to get down to business, we heard loud giggling coming from the next booth.
    “Someone’s having a good time,” George said.
    Turning, I saw three girls talking loudly—three girls who by now I knew quite well.
    “Guess who?” I whispered.
    George looked too and rolled her eyes. “Bunk Diana,” she said with a groan under her breath.
    “You mean Darcy, Lindsay, and Ava?” Bess asked, surprised. “Does Amy know they’re out of camp at eight thirty at night?”
    “Would she even care?” George asked.
    “Well, I care,” Bess said. She started to stand up. “I’m going to tell those girls to get back to camp right now or—”
    “Wait—shhh,” I hissed. “One of them just mentioned Mia!”
    We eavesdropped on Bunk Diana as they blathered on in raised voices.
    “Omigod!” Darcy said, laughing. “Can you believe Mia Casabian could be such a witch?”
    “Whatever,” Ava said. “We got payback, didn’t we?”
    “Now that they’re out of the picture,” Lindsay said with a giggle, “we got these!”
    Got what?
    We turned around to see Lindsay slip on a pair of brown tortoiseshell sunglasses. Mia’s sunglasses!
    “Do I look like a Casabian?” Lindsay asked, posing with the glasses and pouting her lips.
    Darcy and Ava screamed with laughter. I was about to say something when Lola marched over to the girls’ booth.
    “You need to bring it down a notch,” Lola told Bunk Diana firmly. “Some other customers have complained about the noise.”
    “Don’t worry—we were just leaving,” Ava said smugly. She then picked up her iced coffee and spilled the rest of it all over the table.
    “Clean it up now,” Lola demanded.
    “Us?” Lindsay said with raised brows. “I do believe that’s your job.”
    With that, the girls from Bunk Diana shot out of their booth and the café—giggling all the way.
    “They really are mean girls!” Bess said.
    We offered to help Lola clean up the mess, but she insisted we relax and finish our coffees.
    “Those little creeps have been here before,” Lola said.
    “Really?” I asked. “Did you ever see them talking to Mia? Or having some kind of fight with her?”
    “No fights,” Lola said, shaking her head. “But those girls are major pains—as you can see.”
    I wanted to ask Lola about Mia’s sunglasses, but she was way too busy with customers and now the mess Bunk Diana had left behind.
    “How did Bunk Diana know all three sisters were out of the picture?” I said quietly over our lattes.
    “Nancy, you don’t think a bunch of junior stalkers did away with the Casabian sisters, do you?” George asked.
    “They may be mean girls,” Bess said, “but I’m not sure they’re capable of kidnapping . . . or murder.”
    “How did they get Mia’s sunglasses?” I asked. “I’d like to go to Camp Athena and find out.”
    “I’d like to check up on Maggie, too,” Bess said. “How about tomorrow?”
    “Can’t,” George said. “I promised my mom I’d take Scott to a special dentist who’s open on Sundays. He cracked a tooth on a popcorn kernel at the movies.”
    “Ouch,” I said. “I can’t go tomorrow either. Ned and I are finally going kayaking. Just the two of us.”
    “Well, it’s about time,” Bess said with a smile.
    My worries and the strong coffee kept me up much of the night. Could twelve-year-old girls really be capable of evil? Did they cut my brakes and not the guy with the white jacket? Maybe he was just