Sometime back in the land of Sandisfield, a young elk went skinny-dipping at West Lake, late at night, when all the other creatures of 01255 were asleep. In place of the shimmering shores she’d grown so attached to, she was astonished to find representatives of the Po Po, chock-full of questions and “exactly who are you”s.
A moose had been found, belly up and floating, a gunshot in his side, and they thought the elk had done it. “I’ve just come for a swim!” She replied, bathing suit in hand. After further questions and suggestions to “get dressed”, the Elk went home, much saddened. She hadn’t had her swim.
In the days and weeks that follow, she was surprised to hear nothing further about the mysterious moose murder. On hazy afternoons, she overheard things at the swamp; a revenge story between the two rivaling families of Sandisfield. Which family’d done it? No one has discovered the truth about that evening. But no one's ever tried to. Beaver’s on the case now. Who killed that darn moose?
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