Town in a Wild Moose Chase by B. B. Haywood Read Free Book Online Page A

region. But now, with the Moose Fest activities gearing up, Wanda was back in competitive mode.
    Candy tried not to let herself get drawn into Wanda’s world of constant one-upmanship, but there were times she couldn’t help herself.
    “Well, Wanda,” she said, trying her best to keep her voiceeven, “it sounds like you’re the one with all the sources, so why don’t you ask them?”
    And with that, she took Preston Smith by the arm and tugged him along with her as she started off toward the rising mountains of ice at a brisk pace, doing her best to tamp down her anger. She didn’t look back, though she was tempted. Determined to put Wanda right out of her mind, she pointed ahead of them, twirling her finger around in the air to indicate the entire scene.
    “So tell me what’s going on here,” she said to Preston as they followed a cleared, well-traveled path through Town Park. “I need to catch up fast, so give me all the details.”
    Preston gave her a somewhat bewildered look, not completely understanding everything he’d just heard. “What would you like to know?”
    “Anything you can think of. How long until they get all the blocks set up? When are they going to start carving? Where do they get the designs? How long will it take them? That sort of thing.”
    “Oh, yes, I see.” Preston nodded as he grasped the type of information Candy sought. “Well, let’s see. Where should I start?” He pondered a moment as he focused in on the scene before them. “Of course, I’m not an organizer of this event—I’m merely an interested party and observer—but they’ve brought in a lot of very skilled people this weekend. At the moment they’re setting up for two multiblock sculptures, as I understand it. The one on the right will be a dragon, which should be quite spectacular, while the other will be a tribute to—”
    “Yeah, yeah, I got all that,” Candy said, hurrying him along. “But where do the blocks of ice come from? And how does one get into this business? We’ve got a bunch of sculptors here today. Is there, like, a master carver or anything like that? A top dog? Which one would that be?” She scanned the crowd ahead of them.
    “A top dog? Oh, well, now let me see.” Distracted, Preston stumbled over a rough spot on the pathway. “I suppose there is, though you’d probably get some argument from the sculptors themselves. But if you look over that direction—”
    “Hey, there’s Ben!” said Candy, pointing off to her left.
    Ben Clayton was the editor of the
Cape Crier
, Candy’s boss—and her sort-of boyfriend, though they’d kept their relationship low-key so far. He was walking toward them with long, purposeful strides, head down, hands lodged deep in his pockets. He seemed oblivious to all the activity going on around him, as if his mind were a million miles away. But when Candy called out to him, he stopped and looked up. It took him a few moments to locate her and focus in on her face, but when he finally recognized her he smiled crookedly. He waved and started toward them.
    Candy felt Preston grasp her arm. “I hope you’ll excuse me,” he said, standing slightly behind her, “but I just remembered I’m scheduled to meet someone at the inn.”
    When she looked back over her shoulder, he was glancing down at his watch and already turning away. “Oh, I was going to introduce you to Ben.”
    He threw her a regretful smile. “I’ll catch up with the two of you at another time—perhaps at the inn later this afternoon? Please give him my best for now.”
    Without another word, Preston Smith headed back across the park toward the Lightkeeper’s Inn, head low as he turned up the collar of his coat.
    Candy watched him go, shaking her head. She was about to call out, “You were going to tell me about the sculptures!” but he was too far away, and then Ben was there. He leaned toward her and kissed her on the cheek. “Hi, you.”
    “Hi yourself. You look like you’re