Town in a Wild Moose Chase Read Online Free PDF Page B

wintering under the Florida sun. He was smartly dressed in a black woolen overcoat, expensive-looking cream-colored dress shirt, gray and yellow argyle vest, and dark, sharply creased dress slacks. It was a stylish ensemble, disturbed only by the black rubber boots, encrusted with muddied, caked-on snow, poking out from under the cuffs of his slacks.
    She’d never seen him before, but his boots gave her a clue to his identity.
He’s a true New Englander
, she thought.
    He came toward her with his hand outstretched and one of the widest smiles she’d ever seen, framed by a thick gray moustache. “Candy Holliday, this
is
a thrill!” he said with great enthusiasm. He shook her hand warmly. “I’ve been looking forward to this moment for quite some time. I’m Preston Smith.”
    Candy gave him a guarded smile. “Hello, Mr. Smith, it’s very nice to meet you.” She glanced sideways at Maggie, hoping for some explanation.
    “He says he’s read your columns,” Maggie said, as if that explained everything.
    “My columns?”
    “Oh yes, I’m a big fan,” Preston Smith told her. “I’m quite intrigued by them. I’m from the city, you see. All that noise and traffic and people jammed together. But your columns truly capture everyday life here in this wonderful little village of yours. I’ve been hoping to visit for quite a while, so I couldn’t be happier I’ve finally found the time to make the trip. And please, call me Preston.”
    He smiled at her so warmly she couldn’t refuse. “Well, okay, Preston.” She paused. “Where did you say you’re from?”
    “He’s from I.C.I.C.L.E.!” Maggie interjected excitedly.
    Candy looked confused. “Icicle? What state is that in?”
    Preston Smith laughed heartily. “I see you’re not familiar with this particular usage of the term,” he said with a toothygrin. “It’s an acronym, actually, for the International Committee of Ice Carvers and Lighting Experts.”
    “You’re kidding me,” Candy said.
    Preston chuckled. “No, we’re quite serious, though our name is a little mischievous, I’ll admit. But we thought it would be fun and grab people’s attention. We’re a relatively new organization, you see, which probably explains why you haven’t heard about us. In fact, not many people have. But we’re growing fast. We truly believe in the beauty of carving and lighting ice. We’re hoping to turn it into an inter-national phenomenon—a type of sport, if you will, rivaling the popularity of football and baseball.”
    “Oh. Well, that’s wonderful,” said Candy, not completely convinced. Still, she thought as her reporter instincts took over, it might make a good story. “I’d love to write an article about your organization sometime.”
    “Perfect! To be honest, that’s one reason I’m here, Ms. Holliday. As I said, I’ve been reading your columns for quite some time, and I’ve enjoyed following all the activities and events taking place in your charming little town. One day recently, I was struck with this epiphany: what if we held one of our international ice-carving events right here in Cape Willington!”
    “Oh my! What a wonderful idea!” Maggie was almost breathless.
    “It could put your town on the map with the international ice-carving crowd,” Preston said.
    “Oh… is that a large group?” Candy asked skeptically.
    “Larger than you might guess,” Preston assured her.
    “I never realized that,” she replied, her voice only slightly betraying her doubt.
    Preston went on. “We think Cape Willington would make an ideal setting for one of our keystone annual events. While the event you’re presenting here this weekend is merely an exhibition—though an informative one, naturally—our organization could stage a worldwide competition, withawards, cash prizes, international press, that sort of thing. Think of it as a sort of Boston Marathon for Cape Willington—we believe the level of prestige would be that high. Such an event