Tags:
History,
Mystery,
Mystery Fiction,
civil war,
mystery novel,
final revile,
final revely,
amanda flowers,
final tap,
tapping,
syrup,
maple syrup,
living history,
final reveille
âIâm going to have to lay off Mrs. Chiefâs fine homemade cookies if I have any hope of getting back in shape for the reenactment season,â Chief Duffy said as he went over the fence.
Detective Brandon rolled her eyes. I would have loved to know her opinion on her bossâs hobby, but then again, I had a pretty good idea what it was.
I pointed at the ground. âBe careful where you step. The brush marks began here.â
âEverything here is trampled,â Detective Brandon said with a sniff. âThereâd be no way to find any tracks even if anything was left when you and Benji first arrived.â
I ignored the implied insult sheâd shot my way. âThe EMTs were more focused on getting Dr. Beeson to a hospital than worrying about messing up tracks.â
The detective stared at the ground. âSo you and Benji were the only ones who saw brush marks. Officer Sonders said nothing about them.â
âI forgot to bring them to his attention in all the confusion,â I said.
The detective sniffed, as if she doubted my story.
âWe need to talk to your assistant,â Chief Duffy said. âIs she back at the visitor center?â
I shook my head. âSheâs a college student, and she had class late this afternoon. Sheâs gone for the day. But I can give you her cell phone number if that would help.â
âIt would,â the police chief said. âShow us where you found the professor.â
I led the pair into the forest. It was an easy path to follow with the many footprints left by the EMTs in the snow. Detective Brandon was rightâthere was no sign of the brush strokes in the snow. I swallowed as we came upon the bloodstained spot where the professor had lain.
Crime scene tape was strung from tree to tree around the blood stain. Officer Sondersâ handiwork, I assumed.
Detective Brandon shoved her hands into the pockets of her thick winter coat. âBecause of your revelation about the brushstrokes, weâre going to have to call some of the officers in to search the scene again while itâs still daylight.â
The police chief nodded.
As the detective touched the edge of the crime scene tape, Chief Duffy turned to me. âAny idea why Dr. Beeson would be this far from the visitor center?â
I averted my eyes from the scene. âThatâs a good question. Benji and I met with him this morning in the sugar maple grove on the other side of the pasture, not far from my cottage. He was frustrated with the weather.â
âWhyâs that?â
âIâd hired him to teach a tree tapping class here at the Farm. Itâs scheduled for tomorrow. He was upset that the trees are still frozen because itâs been so cold. Itâs unlikely the sap would have run enough for him to tap trees and impress his students during the presentation.â I cleared my throat. âHe was so angry about it that he stomped back to the visitor center without Benji and me. Judyâshe runs my ticket officeâsaid he stomped into the building and mumbled something about the red maples on the other side of the pasture before leaving again. My best guess is he came over here to see if these trees were as frozen as the sugar maples in the grove.â
âWeâre going to have to talk to Judy too,â Detective Brandon said, removing her hand from the piece of tape.
I nodded. âYou can talk to any of my employees. Weâre all very sorry about what happened to Dr. Beeson and will do whatever we can to help.â
She shot me a look. âJust as long as you donât get involved in the investigation.â
I frowned. I knew she was referring to last summer, when Iâd meddled in the police investigation of Maxwell Cherryâs death. But since Detective Brandon had believed that Iâd had something to do with that death, she hadnât left me much choice but to meddle.
âI want to talk to