“Alanza started in joining things before she finished unpacking her moving van. She hadn’t been here a month before she had joined the Sap Bucket Brigade, the friends of the library, and the women’s club. She was the recording secretary for two boards and volunteered in the church thrift shop.”
“So you think she was just one of those people who love to volunteer?”
“Good Lord, no; she was solidifying a power base. I think she wanted to be elected to a lot more than the snowmobile club. My guess is she had designs on the select board.”
“Are you sure?”
“As sure as I am cows give milk, not mayonnaise. She had already been recommended for appointment to the spot on the planning board Connie was vacating and said she was planning to run for the zoning board of adjustment.” Both of those boards were powerful and pertained to land. Alanza had a lot of it and had planned to change the way she was handling the land she owned. Could those things be connected? Did she have plans for her land she wanted to get through that might require power in town to make happen? It wouldn’t be the first time someone had set themselves up as a public servant for some private gain. A good dietary recommendation for Alanza would have included increasing her daily intake of moral fiber.
“But now what? Does Alanza’s death stop the closure of the trails just in time for an uninterrupted snowmobiling season?” How convenient the breakfast had taken place a few weeks before snow could reasonably be expected to start stacking up in the area. About fifty percent of the time, Sugar Grove experienced a white Christmas.
“Well, I’m not quite sure what happens. I am sure the new owner will be delayed in making any decisions that will affect us this year. When my parents died, the whole probate thing took quite some time. I imagine with the circumstances of her death being what they are, the property won’t be released to the inheritor anytime too soon.”
“That’s a lucky break for all of you snowmobile enthusiasts then, isn’t it?”
“And for you.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Because that Christmas gift you wanted to give your brother is much more valuable with all the miles of uninterrupted trails. Or was your interest just a cover to ask me questions that weren’t any of your business?” She had me there.
“How much do I owe you?”
Twelve
After my chat with Tansey, I decided to talk with cabin owners. Since I am always interested in putting off talking to Knowlton, I decided to start with Hanley. I drove over to his place of business and found him just turning down the driveway. In order to avoid arguments with his wife, Hanley had rented a place off Tinkham Road to house his business just as soon as they could afford to do so. Connie complained about the noisy equipment bothering her goats and the crews of day laborers showing up in her dooryard. Since the Wilsons had no children, her goats took on an importance the average couple might not assign them.
I bumped to a stop as his truck threw gravel up on my windshield. Hanley hitched himself out a few inches at a time and hopped to the ground. Over time he’d gotten a bit shorter as well as wider and I think it contributed to his surly attitude with most people. Unlike the other night over at Jill’s and the other day at the farm, he was usually pretty decent with me, and it may have been on account of my height. Even so, I did my best to leave interactions with him to someone else in the family. Grampa was his usual point of contact, which suited the rest of us just fine. Grampa could charm the horns off the devil if he took a notion to do so. Hanley was a bit of a devil himself, but he must have left his horns at home because all I could see was a bit of a bald spot glowing through his wavy, sandy hair.
Hanley wore the same red-and-black hunter’s plaid wool jacket he always wore whenever the temperature dipped below sixty. It matched his florid face and I imagined he thought it enhanced his image as a traditional forester. What he probably didn’t imagine was how much it emphasized his beer gut when he strained the buttons closing it on the coldest days. Hanley had been wearing that jacket the day he lost his footing while up in a tree and had gotten snagged by the fabric. The fabric held without a tear and he was able to wrap his arms around a thick limb on his way down. He’s worn it as a good luck charm, despite the thirty pounds and six inches he’s added to his waistline, since the incident.
Connie’s way around a stove accounted for the weight gain. Piper has been telling Connie for years she’d love to have her come on at the Stack if she ever gets tired of her bookkeeping business. For the longest time Connie refused, insisting she needed to devote her time to a number of local businesses she serviced, including Hanley’s. Recently, however, she agreed to help out for a special event and ended up enjoying herself so much she decided to join the staff part-time.