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Page 71
"What about it?"
"Isn't Carleton converting?"
"No."
"Then what was the feasibility study all about?"
"What feasibility study?"
Suddenly Terry felt stupid. "For three weeks they've been drilling holes in the streets. Jason, Woodside, Hutchinson."
"Who has?"
"Some men in yellow trucks. I don't know, the Department of Public Works. They said something about trying to determine the size of the granite ledge or something."
"Mrs. Hazzard, we're a relatively small town with only a handful of administrators, and we all know each other's business and budget lines. A feasibility study like you're describing is not something out of petty cash. Nor can Carleton afford to even think about converting to Quabbin. Besides, we've got perfectly good wells."
"That's what the man said."
Burdick nodded with satisfaction, wide-eyed, insinuating Terry was making this up too. "Do you remember what the machines looked like?"
"I don't know, big, tall, pounding things."
The woman went over to the reception desk, picked up the phone and punched four numbers.
"Russ, know of any DPW crew that's been taking core samples at the west end? Jason near Magog? A resident reports a truck's been tapping streets for the last three weeks. Said the guy claimed they were doing a feasibility study on water lines to Quabbin." She laughed, then mumbled a few "uh-huhs," laughed some more at his comments, then hung up. "Nothing on the booksnot the town, state, or the feds, ma'am. And nobody drills streets without a permit."
Gotcha, her face said.
"Maybe you can explain that to the taxpayers who ride the asphalt patches each day."
"Come again."
"Why the streets were torn up and town administrators are the last to know." Terry smiled sweetly and left.

 
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