"Where's Ivy?" This came from George as she was walking down the path to where Nancy and Bess maintained their watch over the police on the shoreline.
"Isn't she in the car?" asked an astonished Nancy. George shook her head.
Alarmed, Nancy leapt from her position and ran up the path to the parking lot. There was no sign of Ivy in the car or in the parking lot. They checked the washroom facilities but found nothing.
"She might have gone for something to eat," suggested Bess.
"You go check that out," shouted Nancy. "There's a map of the park over there. We're going to go back on the trails." Nancy left so frantically that Bess wasn't quite sure what was said to her.
There was only one destination that made sense to Nancy, and that was to Metcalfe Point. With the dense storm clouds and the overarching canopy of trees the trails were gloomy. They were empty of the usual park visitors. Silenced by their concern for their friend, Nancy and George walked at a brisk pace but were careful not to go astray and waste time.
The dark woods gave way to unkempt bushes and straggly undergrowth. The girls soon found themselves atop the undulating rock formations. They stepped over surprisingly circular holes in the sandstone which opened to chambers beneath.
"Where are you Ivy?" shouted Bess and Nancy in turn.
"I'm over here," they heard Ivy shout. They never thought a voice could sound so sweet to them.
Relief was immediately replaced by anger. "What do you think you're doing?" cried Nancy. Immediately she thought how shrill she sounded.
"You can't order me around," Ivy retorted. "I have every right to investigate as you have."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound as if I was in charge. We're happy to see you. I just don't think we should be here. It isn't safe."
Twenty feet behind Ivy, emerging from the rocks was Eberhart. He had found some passage from the chambers underneath to the surface. The hostile expression they had last seen on his face had been replaced by the dull mask of someone who has survived an exhausting physical ordeal. He still had his life-jacket and his pants on but he was barefooted. Water streamed in rivulets down his temples. He struggled to control his jerky shaking. He raised his gun.
Ivy, following Nancy's gaze, looked over her shoulder and gave a choked gasp. Eberhart and Ivy stared at one another. The girls watched Eberhart's heavy, uneven breathing, waiting for him to say something, but he could not seem to summon any words.
"Drop the gun!" came a command. Michael was standing on the inflatable, now drifting towards the shore of Metcalfe Point. This time there was no thought of escape. The gun fell from Eberhart's hand as if he could no longer make the effort to hold it. A look of distress flashed across Ivy's face and she began to cry softly. Nancy hugged her protectively. Eberhart did not move from his spot while the police pulled themselves onto the rocks. When the police handcuffed him he turned to take a final look at Nancy. She thought he had an expression that looked like horror, as if he was gradually becoming aware of the meaning of his situation.
Eberhart's associate came out of a cave and surrendered that evening. Nancy and her friends were already back on Catriola.