Town in a Wild Moose Chase

He looked her over again. “You want to change first?”

Candy shrugged. “I’m fine. These old duds are actually pretty comfortable, and they’re plenty warm.”

They walked side by side up through the blueberry field as the scattered snowflakes gathered into a light flurry. It wouldn’t stick for a while, but it made the hard-packed surfaces more slippery.

“What did you find out from the Foxwell sisters?” Ben asked as they walked, their shoulders nudging each other on occasion.

“Well, it was sort of odd. One of them—Elizabeth—has had a premonition.”

Ben gave her a wry smile. “Really? That’s pretty rare, from what I’ve heard. The word around town is that the sisters are more eccentric than psychic, though of course that’s still up for debate. There apparently were a few occurrences twenty or thirty years ago that remain unexplained.”

She gave him a sideways glance. “Have you researched them?”

He grinned. “When you’re a reporter in a small town like this, you find that after a couple of years you’ve researched just about every possible angle to every possible story line to find something new to write about. I’ve talked to them on a few occasions. They seem friendly enough, and they’re fairly quiet. I’ve checked back through the records—this was a couple of years ago—but all I found were a few old clippings on microfiche from back issues of the newspaper.”

“And what did they say?”

Ben raised an eyebrow, and his tone turned more serious. “About thirty years ago, there was an outbreak of murders around town. They lasted for a period of eight or ten years, mostly through the eighties. The police couldn’t solve them, so at one point they approached the sisters, to see if they could help figure out what was going on. The sisters would have been only in their early twenties then. Elizabeth was just in her teens.”

“And did they help?”

“They did.”

“And?”

“From what I could tell, the resolution was murky. There were a few arrests, due in part to the sisters, who helped decipher some of the clues, but the murders kept happening. There was some talk that they were all connected somehow, though I don’t know all the specifics. According to the reports I read, the sisters got actively involved trying to solve the mystery and were making some headway. But that also put them in danger. They were threatened at one point, and it must have scared them a lot. They backed off and went quiet. I’ve tried to find out what really happened, but ran into a roadblock. The police declined to make some of the information public.”

“Something scared the sisters off the case,” Candy said.

“Sounds that way, doesn’t it?”

“I guess that’s why they’ve been reluctant to get involved with these new murders that have occurred in town over the past few years.”

“That would explain it,” Ben agreed, “but why did they decide to call you now?”

They walked in silence for a few moments as Candy thought about that, but finally the answer came to her. “Because something’s changed,” she said.

Ben gave her a curious look. “What makes you say that?”

Candy shook her head uncertainly. “I really don’t know. Just a hunch, I guess.”

More silence as Ben studied the trees at the top of the ridge ahead of them. “So did Elizabeth tell you what her premonition was about?”

“She did. She said it had something to do with us.”

“Us?”

“You and me. She said it’s centered around the two of us.”

“Well that sounds pretty weird. Did she tell you what this something is?”

Candy nodded. “She called it a darkness.”

He whistled. “That sounds ominous.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

They stopped. They had reached the place where Solomon had fallen to the ground.

“He came from that way,” Ben said, indicating the old hermit’s now indistinct tracks, which led up toward the trees on the right.

“And he left that way,” Candy said, pointing off in a different direction, also still marked by the trail of Solomon’s footprints. “I followed those tracks yesterday but didn’t find anything.”

Ben eyed the numerous tracks that spread across the field, including those made by the police, and finally pointed to the spot where Solomon had emerged from the woods. “Let’s head this way. Maybe we can find out where he came from, and that will give us some clues.”

She nodded, and together they started toward the top of the ridge. “We’d better stay on our toes,” he told her as they walked, their breaths starting to come harder. “Glad I brought my GPS with me. I have this too.”

He reached into one of his coat pockets and pulled out a small, military-style compass, which he handed to her. “I’ve had this since my days overseas. It came in handy a few times. Why don’t you hold on to it, just in case.”

He reached for her right hand, placed the compass in it, curled her fingers around it, and continued to hold her hand. “Listen, let’s try to stay together, okay? If we get separated, just stay where you are and I’ll double back and find you. If worse comes to worst, you have the compass, so you can find your way back out. Just head south- southeast and you should come out somewhere near the farm. And promise me,” he continued, his tone turning more serious, “that if we do find something in there, you won’t do anything crazy.”

Candy gave him an amused smile. “What makes you think I’d do anything crazy?”

“Because,” he said, looking into her eyes, “I know you.”

Fifteen

The woods closed in around them.

As they followed a path of fading footprints back through the trees, Candy couldn’t help but feel there was another world that existed here when humans weren’t around. The silence of the winter forest seemed to have a sound of its own, an ever-present whisper that came from all around them, disturbed only by the crunch of their boots on the snowpack and the rattle of bare branches in the faint wind. The woodland animals were invisible in the landscape, tucked into their dens or hiding spots, shivering silently as they waited for the visitors to pass.

Or maybe they were hiding from something else.

Ben must have felt it too, because he said nothing. Instead, his eyes scanned the woods ahead of them, carefully picking out the best path for them between the trees, bushes, outcroppings of rock, and fallen branches and trunks, eyes ever watchful.

“Stay close,” he said to her again, in a low tone, as he detoured around a fallen pine tree with an extensive root system that had been plucked out of the ground at some point in the recent past, perhaps during one of the fierce spring storms of the past few years.

Once they were on the other side of the fallen tree, Ben had difficulty picking up Solomon’s trail. There were several sets of footprints here, all moving around and across each other. It was probably a place where the police officers who had searched the woods the previous day had gathered to compare notes and decide their next move.

After studying the area for a few minutes, Ben finally pointed to a set of footprints that angled off from the others, headed back into the densest part of the forest. “It’s just a hunch, but I’d say he came from that direction.”

Candy followed his gaze. “Why that way?”

“Well, the pattern on the bottom of the boots looks fairly well worn. My guess is Solomon doesn’t go shopping much. Plus they’re more indistinct than the other tracks, so it’s likely they were made earlier. And besides”—Ben pointed down at his handheld GPS device, which he’d pulled out of his coat pocket—“they lead off in the general direction of Solomon’s camp.”