Read The Light Keeper's Legacy (A Chloe Ellefson Mystery) for Free Online Page A

Herb said pointedly. Sylvie flapped one hand in a Go away, you’re bothering me gesture.
    O-kay, Chloe thought. “Why don’t we start by talking about the scope of my work?” she suggested. “We should all be clear about expectations.”
    “Sound thinking,” Sylvie said approvingly.
    Since the afternoon was pleasant they settled at the picnic table outside. “We’re in the middle of the restoration,” Herb told Chloe. “The first priority was reproducing the lantern room. The ironwork is original, but everything else had to be rebuilt. Exterior tuck-pointing is complete. We also had the lath and plaster within the house repaired, and the paint analysis done.”
    “Herb took the lead on structural work,” Lorna added, patting her husband’s hand.
    Sylvie shot Herb a dark look before turning to Chloe. “So now we’re ready to consider furnishings,” she said. “That’s where you come in.”
    “Usually,” Chloe began, “the first thing I’d want to do is establish a chronology of use—”
    “We know exactly who was here, and when,” Herb told her. “From 1836, when the first keeper arrived, to 1946, when the Coast Guard automated the light.”
    Chloe had been about to make that point, but she smiled and continued. “I read everything I could in advance, and I’ve started looking through the files inside. Your committee has already done a lot of legwork, which is great. But what about collections? Have you accepted any donations?”
    Lorna put her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Just the bed in the lightkeepers’s room, and the kitchen table and chairs. The sink is original—feel free to use the drain, by the way. And weavers on Washington Island made the rugs to protect the floors from workmen.”
    “I have explained to other committee members, and to potential donors, that we can’t accept any other pieces until we have a plan,” Herb added loftily.
    “Thank goodness we have you to keep us walking in a straight line.” Sylvie rolled her eyes. “Chloe, I’ve put together a list of would-be donors and what they want to give.”
    Despite the obvious tension bubbling between Herb and Sylvie, Chloe was ready to hug all three of these people. She’d been involved in projects where well-intentioned participants had already made commitments that hindered guest curators instead of helping.
    “Fantastic!” she told them. “While I’m here, I’ll analyze the raw research and dig deeper in the archives on Washington Island. I’ll also visit as many potential donors as I can. When I get home, I’ll have access to period catalogs and other periodicals. You can expect my formal report in about a month.”
    Everyone nodded.
    “The plan will include a site description, the chronology, and biographical information about the inhabitants. I’ll consider how each room was used, make suggestions for interpreting the lighthouse, and recommend furnishings and other bits of material culture to support the restoration and interpretive themes.” She looked around the table. “That all sound good?”
    It all sounded good.
    “With any luck we’ll find primary source material from some of the women and children who lived here,” Chloe added. “Sometimes the best clues about furnishings turn up in diaries and letters written by the people who had to clean the pieces.”
    Herb straightened his shoulders. “I assure you, the light keepers themselves did a great deal of upkeep on a regular basis.” He sounded peeved again.
    “Yes, of course,” she conceded. “And I did read that a couple of women served as assistant keepers here in the nineteenth century.” She was delighted about that.
    “If you’ll study the records,” Herb said, “you’ll see that my grandfather was a keeper back before World War II. He was a bachelor at the time, but I assure you, he was ready for every inspection!”
    Shit, Chloe thought. The first thing she should have done was discover if any of the RISC folks had