what I knew, she directed us here.”
Nick growled softly. “Yeah, we need to talk about the
stealing evidence thing.”
“I’d rather talk about the gun to my head thing,” Kelly
said wryly.
“Where is it?” the man on the ground asked. “We’ll let
him go without hurting him if you tell us.”
Julian growled.
“How did you get here?” JD asked him.
“I called them,” Julian answered.
218
“Great, so no one actually knowswherewe’re looking?”
Kelly asked.
“There’s no treasure here!” the curator cried. “This
museum commemorates a battle!”
“What happened here?” Nick asked her. “What’s the
story? Give us the tour.”
“Are . . . are you serious?”
Nick nodded, still not looking away from the man on the
ground.
The woman glanced around at all the hardware being
wielded, at all the people filling a little house that must have seen so much violence in its history, if the bullet holes still in the walls were any indication. She took a deep breath.
“After their defeat at Lexington and Concord, the redcoats
were retreating to Boston. Along Battle Road there were many
skirmishes, and the retreating forces were ordered to clear out any houses they came across to prevent snipers from attacking.
Jason Russell, the man who lived here, evacuated his family,
but then returned to his home. Nearby, along the stone wall
you probably saw when you came in, the minutemen had set
up an ambush. They concentrated on the main body of the
redcoats coming through, but were outflanked and retreated