In Too Deep by Norah McClintock Page B

I’ll be walking through the door in five minutes.” He hung up and reached for the hat that covered his balding head outdoors. “The wife is threatening to pitch my dinner into the garbage. Gotta run. Lock up, will you, Robyn?”
    I was just finishing up when I heard footsteps coming down a flight of stairs. A side door to the office opened and a head peeked in.
    â€œOh, I was hoping someone was still here,” said a cheery voice. “I’m Margie Harris. I’m with the local historical society upstairs. Actually, I am the historical society.” She was a plump woman with close-cropped grey hair. “I was just preparing a grant proposal, and my printer ran out of paper. Doug usually doesn’t mind if I borrow a few sheets.”
    â€œHelp yourself,” I said.
    She smiled absently at me, collected some paper from a cupboard near the stairs, and shuffled back upstairs. I printed out my article and left it on Mr. Hartford’s desk.

    Â Â .    .    .

    It took me forever to fall asleep that night. I kept thinking about Nick and wondering when he was going to get in touch with me. I envied Morgan. Billy called her every night after his campers were tucked into their cabins, and they talked for ages. Morgan always looked relaxed when she was on the phone with him. She didn’t have to worry about what he was doing or if he was okay—ever. I, on the other hand ...
    I know that I finally drifted off to sleep because I almost had a heart attack when someone grabbed me and shook me awake.
    â€œRobyn,” a voice hissed.
    â€œJeez, Morgan, you scared me. What are you—”
    She shushed me. “I think I heard something. Outside.”
    â€œDefine something.”
    â€œA noise. And rattling. You don’t think it’s a bear, do you?”
    â€œYou said bears never come around here,” I reminded her.
    â€œThere’s a first time for everything. What if ...”
    After a thump somewhere downstairs, we both stiffened.
    â€œOhmygod,” Morgan whimpered. “What if it is a bear?”
    â€œYou saw me check the doors and windows before we came upstairs,” I said. “They’re all closed. And locked.”
    Morgan whimpered again. “I was hot. I went outside for some air before I came upstairs. I don’t know if I locked the door again.”
    â€œTerrific.”
    The stairs creaked.
    â€œIt’s coming up here,” Morgan said. Her face looked silvery white in the moonlight that was streaming through my window. “Where’s your phone?”
    I had left it on my bedside table. I fumbled for it in the darkness—and accidentally knocked it onto the bare wood floor. It landed with a clunk.
    We both froze.
    For a moment we heard nothing.
    Then something banged against the door to my room. Morgan screamed.
    â€œRobyn?” an alarmed-sounding voice said. “Robyn, are you okay?”
    It was Nick.

N
    ick was standing in the door to my room, wearing nothing but a surfer-style bathing suit. His black hair was plastered to his head, and he was dripping water all over the floor.
    â€œYou scared us to death,” I said. My heart was still hammering in my chest, but I was glad to see him. I untangled myself from Morgan, who had thrown herself at me in terror.
    â€œI need to talk to you, Robyn,” Nick said. “I don’t have much time.” His teeth were chattering.
    â€œYou need to dry off.” I ran down the hall to the bathroom and brought him back some big bath towels. He wrapped one around his waist and used the other one to dry his hair and torso. As he toweled off, I saw Morgan staring at two nasty scars on his back. Nick caught her doing it and immediately draped the towel over his shoulders.
    â€œI heard about your ankle,” he said, nodding at the cast on Morgan’s foot. “I know what that’s like.” Nick had broken his ankle last