Read Online Hooked by Stef Ann Holm - Free Book Online Page A

the string-tied package. “Good-bye, Mr. Farley.” She glanced at Gage. “Good-bye, Mr. Wilberforce. I’m sure we’ll be running into each other now that you’ll be in town. If you need anyone to show you around, please feel free to call on me.”
    â€œI’ll keep that in mind.”
    â€œI live on Elm Street,” she hastily added and retreated a step.
    â€œI’ll remember that.”
    â€œSecond house from the corner.”
    â€œA good location.”
    â€œThe house with the Old Gold trim,” she elaborated further.
    Gage wanted to grin. He liked her candor just about as much as he would have liked to call on her. But he wouldn’t. Couldn’t.
    â€œWell then . . . I suppose I should go.” Moving toward the window, she stood there a moment, the sun reflecting through the glass to light her profile and hair in golden hues. The red ribbon bow pinned to the ornaments in her hat shimmered scarlet. A curl fell softly against her cheek, shining like a new penny.
    Her hand grasped the doorknob. She gave Gage a smile of departure. Then she was gone.
    Farley stayed behind the counter and shook his head with a chuckle.
    Gage said nothing. He hated to admit it, but he was still focused on the image of her profile as she turned toward that window and the sunlight caught on her face.
    â€œShe’s an eager woman,” Farley commented.
    â€œGood grief, I detected that.”
    â€œShe’s got good intentions.”
    Farley took the money Gage had placed on the counter.
    Gage didn’t readily leave. He selected one of his newly purchased cigars and gestured to the clerk. “Mind?”
    â€œNo, no. Light up.”
    Farley even struck a match for him.
    As Gage lounged next to the counter taking a fewpuffs, he asked in what he hoped sounded offhanded, “Are you entered in the fly-fishing competition?”
    â€œI am this year. Wasn’t last.”
    Lucky for Gage, Farley elaborated without prompting. “There was a bit of a to-do over last year’s contest. Rumors and accusations of stocking the tributary off the lake. The fellow who engaged that spot for himself won. But nothing’s ever been proven. He’s an upstanding citizen from a highly respectable family here in town. Besides which, witnesses saw him reel all those fish in. So who’s to say? Just because a fellow wins doesn’t mean he cheated to do so. All the same, I’m glad I didn’t enter because I would have been madder than a wet hen by the controversy surrounding the outcome.”
    Gage politely listened while he smoked, taking mental notes, gathering information like eggs in a basket.
    â€œHarmony’s contest is well-known in the fishing circles,” Farley continued. “With a purse of one thousand dollars, you could say that ours is the best of the best. So when a title of great prominence is at stake in the fishing world, I suppose a man will do anything to attain that kind of glory. And money. Too bad. But again, I’m not saying he cheated. In fact, I happen to like last year’s winner.”
    â€œIs he entering again this year?”
    â€œNo.” Farley shook his head and toyed with a gold cigar band that laid on the countertop. “He’s too busy spending all that cash he won. I suppose it’s a shame, but I expect there’s going to be some tongue-wagging. It’ll all be stirred up again.”
    As Gage exhaled a curl of smoke, he asked in a leisurely manner, “Does his family live in town?”
    â€œYou were talking to one of them today.”
    Gage knew it. Harold the Horse’s Ass.
    Farley tossed the band into the wastebasket and then straightened. “Nice young fellow. He’s off in some fancy Eastern college now,” Farley said, then shook his head with a tsk. “Shame about everything. Yep. Wayne . . .”
    Keeping an unaffected air, Gage took a puff.
    â€œWayne