McKenzie’s Branson Brainteaser Read Online Free Page A

McKenzie.
    â€œLook!” McKenzie pointed at the initials barely visible in the fading light.
    Sydney’s eyes grew wide as she read the lettering. She lifted her gaze to the fairy’s face and cocked her head to one side in surprise. “Look at the face on the statue. Doesn’t she kind of look like Shara?”
    McKenzie stared at the fairy. She hadn’t noticed it until now, but it did look like Shara. The fairy had the same small features and lively eyes. “Oh, Sydney, I think we’ve found our first clue. It sure looks like Reggie Ford’s work.”
    â€œToo bad the shop isn’t open,” Sydney said. “We could ask the employees about the artist.”
    The honking of a car horn and the screech of tires floated up the lane from the Strip. For a minute McKenzie had forgotten how close they were to the busy downtown street. The backyard of the little woodworker’s shop seemed so isolated.
    The uneasiness she had felt earlier returned. She glanced down the lane toward the busy intersection. Cars streaked through on the green lights, screeching to a halt at the next block. The neon lights of the storefronts flashed off and on, enticing the customers to come inside.
    â€œIt’s already 8:45,” McKenzie said anxiously, pushing the light button on the side of her watch. “Miss Val is probably waiting on us.”
    The towering woodcarvings looked like an enemy army in the deepening shadows. The life-size wild animals seemed to come alive, ready to pounce.
    I’ve had enough of this
, McKenzie thought. She whirled and fled through the array of woodcarvings, stopping when she reached the front of the building. A cloud of frenzied moths fluttered about the streetlight high above her. She turned to make sure Sydney was following.
    Side by side, the girls hurried toward the Strip, their tennis shoes slapping the sidewalk as they jogged. They stopped and caught their breath when they arrived at the street corner. The string of headlights in the bumper-to-bumper traffic looked like a ribbon of white Christmas lights stretching up the street. Blaring rock music sounded from open car windows. McKenzie felt the vibrations coming from the subwoofers.
    â€œWhere are all the people coming from?” Sydney asked in amazement. “The traffic wasn’t this bad when we got here.”
    â€œThe shows are all getting out,” McKenzie explained. “Branson has tons of entertainers who have their own theaters. There are gobs of musical groups, magicians, dancers, light and water shows, and of course the Dixie Showcase. Plus, White Water—the water park—is closing for the night, too. I’ve got to go there before I go home. I hear they have the wildest water slides ever.”
    â€œI’ve never been to a small town with so much to see and do,” Sydney said. “I could stay here a month and not see everything.”
    The girls hurried up the sidewalk to the flea market. Branson was a town that catered to families, so kids of all ages roamed the streets with their parents. The crowds of shoppers had thinned, though, since most shops would close within minutes.
    Once inside the flea market, McKenzie saw Miss Val looking at some antique dishes. “Sorry we’re late. We were busy and didn’t realize how late it was.”
    â€œI don’t see any packages,” Miss Val said with a smile, not seeming to mind that they were late. “You must not have found anything you can’t live without.”
    â€œActually, we didn’t even look for souvenirs,” McKenzie blurted out. “We may have found a clue to finding Shara’s uncle.”
    On the way to the car, McKenzie told Miss Val about their discovery. Sydney interrupted occasionally to add a few details.
    â€œWell, it sounds like you may have found some of Mr. Ford’s work,” Miss Val said. “But it doesn’t necessarily mean he lives here. He could