The Body in the Bog: A Faith Fairchild Mystery by Katherine Hall Page

Author:Katherine Hall Page
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Women Detectives, Detective and Mystery Stories, Contemporary Women, Caterers and Catering, Mystery & Detective, Cooking, Fiction, Massachusetts, American, Women Sleuths, Women in the Food Industry, Faith Sibley (Fictitious character), General, Fairchild
ISBN: 9780380727124
Publisher: Avon Books
Published: 1996-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

“Be careful, Tom.” She was filled with foreboding.

Patience must have felt the same way. Faith was having

no trouble getting into the mood this April morning.

“I will.” He squeezed her hand and gave Ben a

kiss. “Now you’d better get off to the side.” As he

spoke, the alarm began to toll. Steady, loud, the sound

quieted the crowd of spectators. Tom blew out the

candle in the lantern. It was daybreak. Two geese flew

silently overhead.

He looked about for Nelson. He planned to stay as

close as possible to the man.

Faith joined the other women and children at the far

end of the Common. The spectators were kept from

the field by ropes. Some had brought stepladders for a

better view. Small children were hoisted on their par-

ents’ shoulders. The bell kept ringing. Faith pictured

the Millers grabbing the rope in turn and pulling hard.

She remembered the time she had rung the bell her-

self. She’d had to use her whole weight to get it

started.

At six o’clock, they heard hoofbeats. Soon the rider

appeared calling for Captain Sewall, who emerged

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from the tavern, followed by a stream of men. “The

Regulars are coming!” Faith had been surprised the

first year. No one said, “The British are coming.” Her

fourth-grade teacher had been wrong.

Two shots were fired in the air—the alarm guns.

The alarm bell fell silent. Gus turned to Brad Hallow-

ell and ordered him to start drumming. “Men, we are

going to muster on the green,” the captain called out.

Although she had seen it before, Faith was caught

up in the drama, and the crowd pressing against the

ropes a few feet away seemed not to exist. Ben’s hand

was in hers, warm and warming. She was vaguely

aware how cold she was, her breath a cloud. She

wished she knew where the Millers were. The shots

had startled her.

“Watch closely,” she told her son. “Everything

happens very fast.” All these spectators, some from

far away—and it would be over in a flash. A flash and

puffs of smoke. But at the moment, Gus was calling

the roll—slowly, dramatically, drawing out each

name. He stood before the rude band and one by one

they answered.

The British drums could now be heard, approach-

ing from farther down Battle Road, its name later

changed to Main Street. Inexorable. The drums were

terrifying. Gus ordered his men to march to the far

end of the green and form two lines. “Load and stand

ready,” he ordered. He was born to lead, Faith

thought. Standing straight as a ramrod himself, he

was not wearing the rough clothes of the farmer he’d

been, but Captain Sewall’s bright blue militia uni-

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form. Sewall and Deane, centuries apart, yet with this

curious link. Faith had a sense that they were both

men you’d want on your side.

Now the sky was pale yellow at the horizon, the

color of a good Chablis, and faintly blue above. The

Minutemen were saying their lines, all documented.

“There’s so few of us, it’s folly to stand here.”

“Easy. Stand your ground.”

The British appeared, transformed from the

doughnut-eating crew of an hour ago into an efficient

war machine. Their bayonets glittered. They reached

the green. Their red coats—bloodred coats—were a

splash of color against the grass, glistening with dew.

Marching all night through unfamiliar terrain in 1775,

the Regulars had been fatigued, wet, hungry—and

frightened.

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