Read The Final Reveille: A Living History Museum Mystery for Free Online Page B

help.”
    The chief shrugged. “See, what did I tell you? He’s one of the good guys. Now, I’d better check into this. One of my officers will be over in a few minutes to question you. Stay around the brickyard please.”
    I held out my hand to stop him. “Sir, I hate to bother you about this now, but what do we do about the reenactment? Should we cancel it for the day?” Even as I said it, I felt my heart drop. It was Friday, and with clear skies predicted, it promised to be one of our busiest days of the reenactment, if not the best attendance the Barton Farm had ever seen.
    â€œYou can’t cancel the reenactment,” Chief Duffy said in horror. “The boys have been waiting for this for months.”
    â€œI don’t want to cancel it, but—”
    â€œI’ll tell you what. Since the battlefield and camps are on the other side of the grounds, I don’t see any problem with leaving that side open. I have to get my bearings to see how serious this is, but why don’t you simply close the village at least for part of today?”
    I agreed.
    Another police department car arrived. This one drove over the corner of Shepley’s wild flower garden near the road. Two more officers got out.
    â€œThere are some more of my boys now. You stay right here. An officer will be along shortly to get your statement,” the chief promised.

Seven
    Twenty minutes later, I was still waiting for one of Chief Duffy’s officers to talk to me. I called Laura at home and explained what happened.
    â€œMaxwell Cherry is dead, and he died at the Farm?” Laura’s voice was breathless in my ear.
    I took a deep breath. “Yes.”
    A new car pulled onto the lawn. An African-American man who looked like he doubled as a bodybuilder jumped out of the car with a medical bag.
    â€œI think the medical examiner just arrived,” I told Laura.
    â€œThe medical examiner? Are you serious? Was he murdered?”
    My chest tightened. “What? Why would you ask that?”
    â€œWell, he was found in the brick pit. Can you imagine him climbing in there voluntarily?”
    I couldn’t but said, “That doesn’t mean he was murdered. The police haven’t said he was.” I shivered as I watched the giant medical examiner look down into the brick pit.
    â€œBut you never know. Maxwell wasn’t exactly universally liked.”
    I bit my lip, wondering if I should tell Laura about my argument with Maxwell the day before. Instead I focused on the Farm. “I need your help.”
    â€œOf course. Anything.”
    I wrapped Tiffin’s leash more tightly around my right hand as he tried to pull me toward the brick pit. “Call all the interpreters and tell them the village will be closed for today. If they’d like to come in to work to help with the reenactment, that would be okay. It’s not required though.”
    â€œI hope I have all their phone numbers,” she said slowly.
    â€œI gave each employee a list of contact numbers for the staff.”
    â€œI know you did,” she replied. “It’s here somewhere. I just have to find it. Don’t worry about the staff, Kelsey, I’ll call them.”
    â€œAfter you do that, call the visitor center staff. I need the opposite from them—I need them to come in early. If we need to close the village side of the Farm, we’ll have to figure out how to handle ticket sales. It doesn’t seem fair to charge our guests full price if half of the museum is closed.”
    â€œI’m on it. I’m sure Judy will have a great solution.”
    I knew she was right. Judy was a retired accountant and our resident math whiz. She would have a solution for the ticket sales in no time, probably even before I got back to my office. “Thanks, Laura.”
    â€œAny time.” She paused, and I could almost hear the wheels turning inside her head. “How are you?”
    Tears