Black River Read Online Free Page B

gurney, a red flower of blood in the head area, detectives in the background questioning men dressed in Civil War uniforms.
    The reporter looked into the camera and said, “Police investigators are initially saying the death is most likely an accidental shooting. The victim, a long-time Civil War re-enactor, is described as a man in his late thirties, someone who spent occasional weekends participating in Civil War battle reenactments. Police say the shooting happened when a movie crew wasfilming a battle scene between re-enactors playing Union and Confederate soldiers in the production of a movie called Black River . The man may have been shot with a Minié ball, which is a bullet used in vintage Civil War era rifles. All of these old rifles are supposed to be firing blanks. However, one was not. I’m told there are more than two hundred extras on the film, evenly divided between actors playing Union and Confederate soldiers. Filming the movie, which is described as a big-budget Hollywood feature, is suspended pending the results of the investigation. Detectives want to know how the Minié ball got in the chamber of one of these old rifles…maybe a horrible oversight that now has resulted in a death. If somehow this death points toward a homicide…detectives will be searching for a motive, and that would make this unfortunate incident like something found in a mystery movie script. The name of the man killed is being withheld pending notification of relatives. Live from the Ocala National Forest, this is Mike Stratton, Channel Seven News.”
    The charter boat captain, a barrel-chested man with sunspots the size of dimes on his bald scalp, said, “Doesn’t sound like an accident to me. Lot’s of crazy shit happens out there in the national forest. I know it sounds weird, but I wonder if they were filming exactly the time the fella got shot.”
    Kim blew out a deep breath. “Come on, Hank, that’s morbid.” She glanced down at the photo on the bar and then raised her caramel eyes to meet O’Brien. “That’s odd, Sean. Here we are talking about a lost Civil War era painting possibly being connected to the unknown identity of this woman in the photograph, and a Civil War re-enactor dies on a movie set doing a mock battle. I know it’s just coincidental, but I got goose bumps on my arms. Another thing…remember when I told you I did some acting back in college?”
    “I remember.”
    “I’ve always had the acting bug. Once bitten, I suppose. Anyway, when they had an open casting call, I drove to the production office and auditioned.”
    “You didn’t mention that.”
    “Probably because I didn’t get the bit part I auditioned for. I was out most of the day. Met a lot of Civil War re-enactors the producers wererecruiting. I hope to God that one man I spoke with wasn’t the poor person killed on set. I can’t remember his name, but I do remember one of them kept staring at me. He was weird. I’m actually glad I didn’t get the part if I’d have had spent time on set around that man.”
    “Maybe he wasn’t hired.”
    “Maybe. But now good old reality comes along in a non-scripted scene in real life where that older man walks in here with a 160-year-old Civil War puzzle, and he’s asked you to solve it for him. That’s the kind of thing that gives me goose bumps.”
    O’Brien slid the photo back in the folder, closed it and smiled. “You have an active imagination.”
    “Sometimes, but when I first saw the old man guarding that folder on the table waiting for you, I felt it was harmless. Now, I’m not so sure.”
    “It’s only an old photo. Come on, Max. Let’s head down the dock to Jupiter . We have some work to do.” O’Brien stood. He looked at Kim. “Don’t worry. I haven’t even taken the job. Finding a 160-year-old painting would be like finding the proverbial needle in the haystack of time. The question is where is the painting today? It might not still exist.”
    “But like the old