Free Ex, Why, and Me by Susanna Carr Page B

calm.
    “Well”—the man rubbed his stubbly chin with his hand as he remembered—“the Aschenbrenners came out first. They picked the bikes.”
    “They got bikes?” Michelle cried out. She turned to Ryan. “I could have ridden a bike!”
    “You never fell off of one of those before?”
    Michelle closed her mouth with a snap. She glared at him, but his smile only grew bigger. The man had no idea that falling off a horse was a completely different thing than taking a tumble from a bike.
    “Then the Rasmussen girl and the quiet guy came out right after the Aschenbrenners,” the old man said. “They took the car.”
    “Car?” Michelle blinked and she tilted her head closer, to hear better. “I’m sorry. I thought I heard you say the word ‘car’?”
    “I sure did. Don’t know what kind it was. An old, beaten-up jalopy, just like the one the Wirts had.”
    “Wait a second,” Ryan said. “I don’t understand. If the Aschenbrenners came out first, why didn’t they take the car?”
    The old man gave him a sly look. “Have you ever drove a car built in the nineteen-twenties?”
    “No.”
    “I had a feeling. Because you’re asking me that question.”
    Michelle and Ryan looked at each other and shrugged. Just what she needed. A guy talking in code.
    “Come on, Michelle.” Ryan wrapped his hand around her arm. “We’ve wasted enough time. Get on the horse.”
    She removed his hand. “I’m walking.” She headed for the street. Her feet were going to pay the price for the brisk pace, but she had a point to make.
    She sensed Ryan following her on horseback. Michelle sighed with relief. He had backed off. For now.
    “Fine,” Ryan said. “Then you can clean up after the horse. Now, do you have any idea of where we’re going?”
    “No,” she admitted. She was probably walking in the wrong direction.
    “The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker,” Ryan mused out loud.
    “Knaves all three,” Michelle finished. She never did like that nursery rhyme.
    “What is a knave?”
    Michelle shrugged. “No clue.” She looked over and noticed that Ryan seemed very comfortable on the big, black horse. The big, black horse that was too close to her. Michelle moved to the far end of the sidewalk.
    “One option,” Ryan said, “is that we find out who are the current butcher and baker and—”
    “Candlestick maker? Does Carbon Hill still have one?” Did they ever have one?
    “There’s a fancy candle shop off Church Street.”
    “Hmm…” Michelle thought about it and shook her head. “No. That’s way too easy.”
    “Do you remember anything Mother Goose around here?” Ryan asked. “A nursery school or a shop?”
    “We are not going to get off that lucky.” Michelle reached for her phone. “I’m going to call the local library. They might know who the Wirts’ friends were.”
    Michelle searched for the phone number and dialed it, trying really hard not to notice every sound and smell of the horse. She hoped they weren’t required to use it for the rest of the hunt.
    “Carbon Hill Library,” a young woman answered. “Elizabeth Finch speaking.”
    “Hi, Elizabeth. This is Michelle Nelson—”
    “Oh!” the librarian squealed. “Michelle Nelson! You’re the celebrity chef.”
    Michelle’s eyes widened. What had her mother been saying about her? “No! I’m a pastry chef for a restaurant in Chicago.” Pastry. Celebrity. They sounded similar…ish. “I’m participating in the scavenger hunt—”
    “And judging the horseradish recipes,” Elizabeth added. “Everyone is very excited about that.”
    How did she know that already? “I’m looking forward to judging,” Michelle lied. “But about the hunt…”
    “Yes?”
    “I need some background on the Wirts’ cronies. Particularly the ones that were called the Butcher, the Baker, and the Candlestick Maker. Do you know where we could get that information?”
    “Let me look that up,” the librarian offered. “I can call you