Carson Buchwald
CEO and founder, Box Box
“It’s what’s inside that counts!”
“This sounds great,” her mom said. “Wouldn’t you rather do this than work in a supermarket and read books about murder dollhouses?”
“That seems like a lot of outside,” Stevie said.
“Outside is good. You could use some sun.”
“Skin cancer,” Stevie said. “Besides, I want to get a lot of reading done this summer, and there’s a free online course in forensic pathology starting in a week. . . .”
“Stevie,” her mom said. “Don’t you want to be social? Wouldn’t you like to be with your friends?”
Stevie made a show of considering this point.
“I guess,” she said after a long moment. “I’ll think about it.”
This little piece of magic had been achieved with relative ease.
She had recently been reading about Charles Manson, who used many popular persuasion techniques in order to form his murderous cult. One tip he had picked up from a popular self-help book was “Make the other guy think the idea is his.” Stevie wanted nothing to do with Charles Manson’s personal philosophy, but this passed-along tidbit was very useful and, it appeared, effective. （The only thing worse than saying “I want to go work at a murder camp” was probably “I have been studying the persuasive techniques of Charles Manson.” So this was one she was keeping to herself.）
The new email from Carson was real. She had written back to him immediately the night before.
Carson,
I am very interested. But I can promise you this—my parents are never going to let me go if they think this is about investigating a murder. Could you write another note about how this is all about camping and doing healthy outdoor stuff?
Stevie
She had no idea if he’d go for it, but it turned out he did. The squeaky-clean new email had arrived with astonishing speed. All Stevie had to do then was prop herself up with her murder dollhouse book in the morning and wait. By midafternoon, the matter was settled. Stevie Bell was going to be a camp counselor at the most notorious camp in America.
More important, she was back on a case.
July 7, 1978
7:30 a.m.
SUSAN MARKS WAS PROUD OF HER CLIPBOARD WALL.
There were twenty-six clipboards in all, hung from little screw-in hooks that she had put in herself five years ago, when she started running the camp. From this command center she made order out of chaos, organized hundreds of children and dozens of teenagers. There was a section for everything. Clipboards for every bunk, listing campers, counselors, contact numbers, known allergies. Another line of clipboards listed the activities for every week of the camp, which led to a different section of clipboards that broke down activities for every day.
For most of the year, Susan Marks ran the physical education and health department at Liberty High. During the summer, she ran the camp, and the job suited her very well. She woke early, when the camp was still asleep, and took a quick seven-mile run. She began on the camp side, running around the lake, then crossing over the dirt road that separated Camp Wonder Falls from the public campground on the other side. She continued her way around the lake
there, where the paths were more rugged and rocky and the incline steeper. She went quietly past the tents full of sleeping tourists and waved to the fishermen setting out in their little boats. Up, up, up, working hard now as she ascended the hill at the far end of the lake. Here, the path left the lake edge and wound through the trees. Once she made it to the top, at the far end, she would pause at Arrowhead Point to catch her breath. The spot was so named because it resembled an arrowhead of dark stone, jutting seventy feet above the lake.