Free Maple Mayhem (A Sugar Grove Mystery) by Jessie Crockett Page A

a man can take before he has to get serious about stopping a problem.”
    “I can see your point. I wouldn’t want to be you.”
    “No one does. That’s why I can’t find a buyer.”
    “And that’s the only thing you were talking about? I thought I saw you smiling, heard you laughing. I might have even seen a flash of cash changing hands. Did you just hire Dean to be your lawyer?”
    “Oh look at that. Your grandfather’s spinning the cage again.”
    Sure enough he was. The sound of the balls rattling got everyone’s attention. Grampa asked if the crowd was up for a full-card session instead of just simple bingo.
    “I am if you are. My luck’s great no matter how we play,” Knowlton said.
    “I was never someone who thought they had too much luck until I ended up in Sugar Grove,” Graham said. “But I feel like when I’m here I’m the luckiest guy around. So bring it on.” He gave Grampa a little salute and nodded to Knowlton.
    Grampa called number after number over the noise of the crowd. People shouted out “Got it” from all around the hall. Daubers were dabbing and people were giggling and I hadn’t seen so much animation in the crowd in a very long time. Probably not since the shouting match at the town meeting the year Merton Spinks proposed we hire a woodchuck he discovered living under his front porch and whom he called Leon as the town administrator. Merton announced it couldn’t do a worse job than the guy who had been occupying the position for the last four years. His comments had caused an animated debate and a lot of laughter.
    Cards filled up fast and I could have sworn I saw smoke floating up from the bingo ball cage. Knowlton’s breath came in small pants and every time one of Graham’s rows filled across he yanked on the hair of the nearest troll doll. I felt sort of sorry for the little thing and wondered if it would be forced into an early retirement if he managed to snatch it bald. I wasn’t sure but I guessed from Knowlton’s patting that all the luck must be in the hair.
    And then, when it was neck and neck with only one blank space each for Knowlton and for Graham, it was over. Graham sprang up on the very tips of his toes, then sank back down, leaned right up next to my ear and whispered, “I’d be happy to share my sausage with you anytime.” I was so flustered I heard myself speaking before I thought it through.
    “Do you want to go camping?” There, I’d said it. I felt better until I realized I hadn’t been specific about the details and who wanted him to camp. I felt myself blushing as I considered how his shared-sausage comment might pair up with a request for a sleepover. I felt like I had leapfrogged us over a whole bunch of dates and landed myself into a place that was much more forward than I had intended. I knew he was surprised by the way his eyes widened and then he stood up so straight it was like someone strapped jumper cables to his feet.
    Before he got a chance to respond the crowd surged in between us. Graham’s back must have been stinging from all the good-natured slapping it was enduring. I caught a glimpse of Knowlton slinking out the door. Tansey hurried after him carrying a box of his forgotten daubers and troll dolls.
    I decided to wait for the crowd to die down before attempting to explain the camping invitation to Graham. It took quite a while, especially since most people were taking their sweet time heading home. I’d be willing to bet an acre of prime sugar bush that they were hoping to eavesdrop on our conversation. I would have waited for him in the parking lot but I was afraid Knowlton might be waiting there, too. He had looked so dejected leaving I didn’t trust myself not to agree to a date just because I felt so sorry for him. Finally the crowd thinned to just those people involved in the cleanup effort. Graham crossed the room, a paper packet of sausage in his hand and a grin on his face.
    “So about this camping trip,” he