Buzz Off - By Hannah Reed Page 0,62

threw a book on the counter, waved a hurried hello in our general direction, and disappeared out the door. I heard a sputtered word that sounded like “late.”

“Wonderful,” Emily said with glee after glancing at the front cover. “Now you can check it out.”

My only regret was that I wasn’t more discreet when I raced away without the bee book. But I didn’t have time to dally and make excuses. And I didn’t really care about the book at this point. I wanted to check out Stanley, not the book.

I was on his tail before he made a right turn out of the library’s driveway.

He headed north on Main Street, passed through town, then turned right and followed the rustic road with open pastures on one side and woodlands on the other. The country air smelled like freshly mowed lawn. As I drove, I rolled down my window and inhaled some of the fresh fragrance, trying to stay back far enough that he wouldn’t notice me. My truck wasn’t exactly camo-colored. I didn’t blend in well with the landscape in a bright blue vehicle. And I had to constantly remind myself to remain calm and to ease up on the accelerator each time I became over-eager. I’d start catching up in my excitement, then have to slow down when I realized the gap between us was closing.

If my hunch was right, I’d have Manny’s bees back today.

Because I was convinced Stanley was leading me right to them.

Twenty-four

Facts about Wisconsin’s rustic roads:• They are part of a special state protection project aimed at preserving outstanding rural roads.

• The state has approximately one hundred of them.

• To qualify, they must be lightly traveled back roads with special natural features like rugged terrain or an abundance of native plants and wildlife.

• The town of Moraine’s economic health is due in part to its location near a rustic road that is popular with tourists.

• The speed limit cannot be higher than forty-five miles per hour and many have lower postings.

Like this one, which was thirty-five miles per hour because of the winding, hilly route.

Did I mention winding?

The road curved one way then the other and before long I had a sneaky suspicion I’d lost Stanley. Worse yet, I wasn’t sure how far back he’d slipped my loose noose, since the road had been twisting for the last mile or so. It hadn’t intersected with any other roads, so he’d either pulled off into one of the driveways along the way or he’d sped up and outrun me, which wouldn’t be hard to do. My truck was reliable, but I never said it was fast.

The first scenario, turning into a driveway, was the most likely. Only someone with a death wish would take these hills and curves at high speeds.

I turned around and retraced my route, counting seven driveways in the area where I thought I’d lost him. None of the houses were visible from the road, one of the reasons this qualified as a rustic road. But it was an incredibly annoying designation at the moment.

I tried one of the driveways, following it in. Then I tried another and another until I’d checked out every single driveway Stanley might have ducked down.

He had simply vanished.

Not letting my failure get me down, I rerouted toward Grams’s field to check on my girls and whatever boys hadn’t been kicked out of the hives.

Grams’s car was in her driveway, and I saw Mom getting out of the passenger’s side. I blew by, slouching down, hoping they wouldn’t see me. As though slinking down in my seat would help conceal my truck.

I really, really wasn’t in the mood for a lecture.

Pretty sure I’d slipped under Mom’s radar, I bounced along the edge of the cornfield and parked close to the hives. All was in order. The nail bed had worked perfectly to convince the skunk to find a snack alternative, one more healthful to his paws. On routine inspection, my little workers were coming and going as though nothing had happened the night before.

I had washed my skunked clothing and beekeeping equipment in soap, water, and ammonia, but I’d forgotten to bring them along. After all, I’d had other ideas for the day, ideas that hadn’t gone exactly as I’d expected. My original plan had me visiting my bees later in the day.

No big deal, I decided. I’d seen Manny work with his bees numerous times without protective gear of any kind. No veil or hat or gloves.