Chapter 1
The night of the Camp Tillotson moonlight hike was the perfect time.
Perfect for snagging what he wanted, that is.
Quiet, quiet. Must be quiet. When everyone had gone, he'd hidden behind some tall mountain laurel bushes. Even though the moonlight was so bright you didn't need a lantern, even though it made everything look snow-covered in July, he pulled it off.
He was able to hide. And wait.
Once the sounds of footfalls faded away, he knew it was his chance. Back inside Cabin 12, he began to poke around. Every bunk had its own pegs for hanging washcloths and towels for the three-times-a-week showers. Campers hung other items on those pegs, too.
He already knew what he wanted -- the necklace. The one with the shiny St. Christopher's medal on it.
It took several tries before he found it. And he had to be careful not to disturb anything or leave any obvious trace of his being there instead of on the hike. Towels, jeans, even a pair of old underpants hung there, waiting for him to move them aside and peek at what else was hidden.
He found it on the sixth try.
There it was, concealed under a long brown towel. There, on a bottom peg, was his treasure.
He stared intently at it. It swung back and forth, back and forth and he found his head swinging in time to the necklace's rhythm, eyes glazing over, nearly hypnotized.
The wind outside knocked a tree limb against the side of the cabin, scaring him back into reality. The scratching of that limb sounded like nails on a blackboard and the chill running down his spine caused raised bumps on his arms.
As his hand reached out to grasp the medal, he heard voices coming toward the cabin. He snagged the necklace and in his panic pulled down a towel hanging on the peg above. He shot a look over his shoulder and tried to replace it but he couldn't get it put back in time to hide.
"I just need to get my sweatshirt," he heard as a camper tromped up the two steps. He had mere seconds to shimmy under a cot and had to leave the towel on the floor. He held his breath as sneakered feet were mere inches from his face.
When it was safe, he slithered out from under the bed and headed for the cabin door. A glance back at the pegs revealed that the camper had hung up the towel he had dropped.
He stuffed the treasure in his jeans pocket, checked to see if anyone was watching and strolled down the steps.
He wouldn't know until a week later that his pocket had a hole in it.
