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hushed, broken voice. “I can’t believe it.”
    When Jeff turned to see who had spoken, all he could see was a sea of pale, shocked faces with wide-open eyes and mouths that gaped open in stunned amazement and horror.
    Mr. Farnham was still talking. Jeff realized he had been talking all along, and he hadn’t heard a thing he said. He was going on about how he would have to contact all of their parents and ask them to come and pick them up as soon as possible. The camp season was over.
    This was the last day of summer.
    As soon as what Farnham was saying registered on Jeff, he glanced at Fred and saw a glaze of tears in his eyes. He suspected Fred was thinking, not about Jimmy being dead, but about how horrible his life was going to be as soon as he got back home.
    Mr. Farnham acknowledged that closing camp early would cause problems for many of the campers, since there were still four days left in the session, but he assured them that he would make arrangements for anyone who had to stay the full time. Otherwise, tomorrow morning, he would begin making phone calls to their homes, and they should start packing.
    “Man, this sucks,” Evan said, leaning close to Jeff.
    Jeff couldn’t look at his friend. He was only dimly aware that he was crying.
    When he turned and looked away, his gaze shifted to the windows facing the lake. The sun had dropped behind the mountains to the west, and long shadows stretched across the campgrounds. Blue light suddenly flashed so fast Jeff’s first thought was a bolt of lightning had struck somewhere nearby. He stared at the gathering darkness, waiting for the clap of thunder to come. Instead, a split second later, another flash lit up the darkening landscape.
    Jeff’s next thought was that someone was outside taking photographs, and their flashbulbs were lighting up the area. But as he stared out the window, more flashes came until he saw they were in a regular pattern. It was the flash of police emergency lights.
    Jeff suddenly knew exactly what was going on.
    The police and probably an ambulance boat from the mainland were here to pick up Jimmy’s body.
    Mr. Farnham was making such a big deal in front of the campers because he wanted to divert their attention from what was going on outside so they wouldn’t see what was happening.
    Jeff shifted his eyes back to Mr. Farnham and then, without a word, slid his chair back and stood up.
    “Where you going?” Ferggie, the counselor seated at their table, asked.
    “I—uh, I have to go to the bathroom.” Jeff kept his voice low because Mr. Farnham was still detailing their plans for tomorrow.
    “Make it quick,” Ferggie said, scowling.
    Jeff nodded and, ducking low so he wouldn’t draw attention to himself, wove his way between the tables down the short corridor to the bathroom. A few steps past the bathroom door on the left was an exit.
    With a quick look to see if anyone was watching him, Jeff pushed the screen door open and stepped out onto the small porch. He eased the door back carefully so the spring wouldn’t snap it back too fast and make it slam. After another glance to make sure no counselors had noticed what he was doing, he jumped off the landing and started running toward the beach and the flashing blue lights.
    As he got closer, he slowed down and, keeping to the darkest shadows of the pine trees that lined the beach, approached the scene with caution. As Jeff had expected, a police boat was pulling up to one of the docks that defined the beginner’s swimming area. Two other boats had stopped and were waiting further out. It looked like the entire police force of Arden, the nearest town, was here along with several volunteers.
    What caught his attention was the group of people gathered on the beach. The searchlight from the police boat was directed on the beach, illuminating four men who were struggling with a stretcher with a sheet draped over it. The sheet had a slight bulge in the middle that had a sharply defined