George,” I said.
“A big tramp,” Grandma said to Pearl, right out loud while the two old bats launched noodles into the soup pot.
Cora Mae heard, but chose to ignore them. “What’s your plan?” she asked.
I locked eyes with George. “I have a few ideas of my own.”
George grinned.
*
Later, long after dark, with a sky full of stars riding high above the treeline, I slithered through Frank’s woods on a one-woman surveillance mission. I could have waited for morning and recovered the camera, but my intuition was kicking in, and I never ignored it.
Earlier, I hadn’t thought much about Frank’s bootlegging activities. But then I decided to check it out. Tomorrow Kitty would make her report on Diane, and Cora Mae was working over Chet right now in more ways than one. I wanted to bring something to the table, too.
The most exciting thing to me was that my mark’s car was still parked where it had been earlier and, and judging by the lack of lights and activity, Frank wasn’t inside the house. He had to be out in the great beyond.
The woods were teeming with critters, big and small, short and tall. I heard rustling close by, but didn’t see a thing. Then coyotes started howling to each other. A few twigs snapped as a further reminder that I wasn’t as alone as I thought I was. I didn’t expect trouble from any of our wild creatures. But the last thing I wanted to do was surprise one with bigger and sharper teeth than mine.
Black bears liked to roam at night, and wolves had been spotted more than once in the vicinity. I felt my body tense and forced myself forward.
I didn’t know the exact location of the line that separated Frank’s land from the state forest but after a certain amount of creeping deeper into the woods, I suspected I had left Frank’s acreage.
He might be working tonight, brewing his hooch. I didn’t really care about Frank’s extracurricular activity. None of us did. Residents of the Michigan Upper Peninsula are united on our stance against government interference. If we want to drink alcohol that tastes like gasoline that rots out our guts, that’s our prerogative.
Anyway, what I really needed was leverage. Frank needed an incentive to open up about what he knew and what he might have seen. The man was holding out. I needed a bargaining chip.
This could be it.
And I couldn’t discount him as a suspect, either.
I heard something off to my right, up ahead, and it wasn’t an animal sound. More like a clanging of metals coming together. I crept on.
Then I smelled something horribly foul. Disgustingly, incredibly awful, like rotten eggs that were past rotten and into putrid. Piles and piles of really rotten eggs. The smell was so overpowering, I switched to breathing out of my mouth.
And in spite of the fumes, I couldn’t help feeling a little smug about my detective work.
I’d done my homework ahead of time as any good investigator would. That meant I’d questioned Grandma Johnson in depth. And Grandma’s friend Pearl, too. Pearl cooperated better than Grandma and even confessed that her family once had their own illegal moonshine operation going.
“It’s a mix of cornmeal,” Pearl had said, “sugar and yeast with just the right amount of water. That’s why shiners like to work near water.”
“Good stuff,” Grandma Johnson said.“We used to buy it in canning jars.”
Then Pearl warned me about the smell. “You can’t mistake it,” she said.
Only, actually experiencing it was much worse than I had imagined.
It had to be Frank’s hidden moonshine business, and that horrid smell had to be fermenting alcohol.
I continued on, stepping lightly.
More clattering.
And low voices, which meant more than one moonshiner. Frank and who else?
Then I spotted them in a clearing right next to a small creek, illuminated by a camping lantern. And they were surrounded by equipment that the federal government allows anyone to own as long as they don’t
“A big tramp,” Grandma said to Pearl, right out loud while the two old bats launched noodles into the soup pot.
Cora Mae heard, but chose to ignore them. “What’s your plan?” she asked.
I locked eyes with George. “I have a few ideas of my own.”
George grinned.
*
Later, long after dark, with a sky full of stars riding high above the treeline, I slithered through Frank’s woods on a one-woman surveillance mission. I could have waited for morning and recovered the camera, but my intuition was kicking in, and I never ignored it.
Earlier, I hadn’t thought much about Frank’s bootlegging activities. But then I decided to check it out. Tomorrow Kitty would make her report on Diane, and Cora Mae was working over Chet right now in more ways than one. I wanted to bring something to the table, too.
The most exciting thing to me was that my mark’s car was still parked where it had been earlier and, and judging by the lack of lights and activity, Frank wasn’t inside the house. He had to be out in the great beyond.
The woods were teeming with critters, big and small, short and tall. I heard rustling close by, but didn’t see a thing. Then coyotes started howling to each other. A few twigs snapped as a further reminder that I wasn’t as alone as I thought I was. I didn’t expect trouble from any of our wild creatures. But the last thing I wanted to do was surprise one with bigger and sharper teeth than mine.
Black bears liked to roam at night, and wolves had been spotted more than once in the vicinity. I felt my body tense and forced myself forward.
I didn’t know the exact location of the line that separated Frank’s land from the state forest but after a certain amount of creeping deeper into the woods, I suspected I had left Frank’s acreage.
He might be working tonight, brewing his hooch. I didn’t really care about Frank’s extracurricular activity. None of us did. Residents of the Michigan Upper Peninsula are united on our stance against government interference. If we want to drink alcohol that tastes like gasoline that rots out our guts, that’s our prerogative.
Anyway, what I really needed was leverage. Frank needed an incentive to open up about what he knew and what he might have seen. The man was holding out. I needed a bargaining chip.
This could be it.
And I couldn’t discount him as a suspect, either.
I heard something off to my right, up ahead, and it wasn’t an animal sound. More like a clanging of metals coming together. I crept on.
Then I smelled something horribly foul. Disgustingly, incredibly awful, like rotten eggs that were past rotten and into putrid. Piles and piles of really rotten eggs. The smell was so overpowering, I switched to breathing out of my mouth.
And in spite of the fumes, I couldn’t help feeling a little smug about my detective work.
I’d done my homework ahead of time as any good investigator would. That meant I’d questioned Grandma Johnson in depth. And Grandma’s friend Pearl, too. Pearl cooperated better than Grandma and even confessed that her family once had their own illegal moonshine operation going.
“It’s a mix of cornmeal,” Pearl had said, “sugar and yeast with just the right amount of water. That’s why shiners like to work near water.”
“Good stuff,” Grandma Johnson said.“We used to buy it in canning jars.”
Then Pearl warned me about the smell. “You can’t mistake it,” she said.
Only, actually experiencing it was much worse than I had imagined.
It had to be Frank’s hidden moonshine business, and that horrid smell had to be fermenting alcohol.
I continued on, stepping lightly.
More clattering.
And low voices, which meant more than one moonshiner. Frank and who else?
Then I spotted them in a clearing right next to a small creek, illuminated by a camping lantern. And they were surrounded by equipment that the federal government allows anyone to own as long as they don’t
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