Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 01 - Peril in Paradise by Marty Ambrose Page B

person.”
    “Let’s just say I’m an animal person.” Actually, I was allergic to cats-big time. “I’m Mallie Monroe” I held
out my hand.

    “Everett Jacobs” He kept his hand firmly fixed to his
forehead.
    “Pleased to meet you” I waved my fingers in lieu of
shaking hands. “And my best wishes for Mabel’s speedy
recovery.”
    “She’ll be fine now that things are quiet again.” A
note of triumph entered his voice. Was he so obsessed
about his cat that he’d actually kill to protect her good
health? It hardly seemed possible. But, then again,
Everett certainly gave the impression of being a cranky
old codger who might not need much of a push to become a vindictive old killer. “I heard that you and Mr.
Hillman had some kind of dispute over the boundary
line-“
    “He was fixing to encroach on my property” The old
man’s arm came down, hand curled into a fist. “I saw
him out here one day with a surveyor and I knew what
the two of them was up to”
    “But why would he want part of your land?”
    “He said it was for some damn privacy fence, but I
think he wanted things that weren’t his-that’s just how
he was. But I wasn’t about to give him one foot of my
property. I already lost part of my acreage to that Henderson Research Center.”
    My ears perked up. “Research Center?”
    “Yep” He pointed to the back of his property where
the shell mounds were the highest. “Some archaeologists from the University of Florida got a grant to go digging
up there, and I had to let ‘em-something about the
area being declared a historic site. Next thing I know
people are poking around at all hours, turning up things
they shouldn’t be messin’ with.”

    “That’s an archaeological dig?” I followed his glance
toward the highest mound and noticed a roped off area
on the top. “I had no idea.”
    “Well, now you know, missy.” He emitted a loud
cackle and wagged his head. “The only good thing is
they also dug up Hillman’s part of the mound, too. He
didn’t like it anymore than I did.”
    “So you had something in common”
    “Yeah, we hated trespassers.” His fierce old eyes fastened on me again. Pikes!
    “Would you mind if I took a look at the dig?”
    “Why?”
    I smiled, stalling for time until I could think of a
good reason. “I’ve never seen one before.” Oh, wow,
was that a compelling reason. I mentally kicked myself
for the lame excuse, but I never was good at lying.
Maybe that’s why I wasn’t as successful as my sister. I
could never fib enough to get the kind of job where you
had to stretch the truth so thin just to make it through
the day that reality became a distant dream. It had been
hard enough for me to tell people “Welcome to the
Magic Kingdom-Where You’ll Have the Time of Your
Life,” when I knew the reality was that they’d be dragging screaming kids around with them for ten hours and then stagger back to their hotels as food-splattered,
foot-aching zombies.

    I waited to see if Everett would order me off his land
faster than you could say “burial mound”
    “All right, but don’t whine if the prickly pears
scratch your arms to smithereens.”
    “I’ll be careful” But I’d also be sniffing around.
Maybe something about the dig held a clue to Hillman’s
murder.
    Everett turned on the heels of his scuffed wingtips
and motioned for me to follow with his gnarled old
cane. We started up a narrow shell path flanked on either
side by gumbo limbo trees and huge bougainvillea
bushes. An occasional prickly pear cactus stretched its
long, thin barbs toward my arms, but I successfully
dodged most of them. Higher and higher, we climbed.
Perspiration beaded on my forehead and my breath
came in ragged gasps but, surprisingly, my intrepid
guide scrambled up the path with the alacrity of a
mountain goat-even in his unsuitable footgear. When
we reached the top, I bent over and took in a couple
deep