Marty Ambrose - Mango Bay 01 - Peril in Paradise (21 page)

My hand shook as I reached for it. My fingers closed
around the object as if it were as delicate as feather.
Once I had it in my palm, I stepped back and slowly
opened my fingers.

A gold medallion. I closed my eyes briefly. I had the
proof I was seeking. Rubbing my thumb over the small
rectangular artifact, I studied the design. A circle that
resembled an eye was etched on the top, with crosslike
lines radiating from the center. Two smaller circles decorated the bottom half, a horizontal line beneath them, and three upturned U-shaped lines even lower. What
was it supposed to be?

“It’s the Tree of Life,” a masculine voice said from
behind.

I turned around. Bradley Johnson stood before me in a
hooded yellow rain jacket and rain-stained silk trousers.
His glasses fogged, his features drawn in discomfort
against the rain.

“You’ve seen it?” I asked. What was he doing here?

“Seen it? I’ve found three similar ones already” He
held out a hand.

I hesitated, blinking with growing alarm. Uh-oh.

He snatched it from me. “See, the top circle is the
sun, the bottom circles raindrops, and the lines underneath represent roots. The Caloosa worshipped the sun,
but they understood the rain also nourished life. Both
were necessary for the seed to grow into a tree”

“How … do you know all of this?” I stammered.

“Because you stupid fool, I’m the one who’s been selling these artifacts.” His tone was congenial, friendly
even-in spite of the insult. “And I’m the one who murdered Hillman.”

You … you’re the killer?” I blurted out as my body
tensed in shock.

“Of course” Bradley let out a long, low laugh of
contempt. “Did you think it was Everett?”

“I did at first, but then I wasn’t sure” I kicked myself
mentally. “After I realized you were mistaken about the
Caloosa gold, I grew even more skeptical.”

“Smart girl. That old man was my best cover. As long
as he kept ranting at Hillman, nobody-including younoticed what I was doing.” He settled into an amused
smirk. “But you were getting closer, and you’re tenacious, I’ll give you that, Ms. Monroe. I tried everything
to throw you off the trail. The dead bird-“

“No” Get a grip, I told myself. As long as he’s
talking, he can’t hurt me.

“Yes. I thought it would scare you, but you kept poking your sunburned nose into places where it didn’t belong.”

I touched my nose defensively. “So I’m a little sun
sensitive.”

“It’s most unattractive.” He tossed me a dismissive
glance. “Anyway, since you wouldn’t give up, I decided
to enlist your services to help me frame Pete” His
smirk widened into a sly smile.

“You put that note on my truck to talk to Nora?”

He nodded. “I figured it would keep you tied up for
awhile. Then, I stole Pete’s fishing knife and threw it
into Hillman’s yard, knowing the police would find it. It
was all working so well. But then you came into the
museum and I got worried. So I slashed your tires to
teach you a lesson”

“I was trying to do my job-writing my news story”
I eased my sweaty hands down to my thighs, glancing
around the dig for something I could use as a weapon.
Nothing presented itself, aside from a few broken shells
and pine needles. They’d be a big help. “Besides, I had
to know what happened.”

His brows rose in two delicate arches above his
glasses. “You want to know the truth? It’s not very
exciting. Jack and I were selling artifacts together and
making a lot of money. He dug up the items, I’d get them
authenticated and find a buyer. It was really very simple.”

“But I thought you revered history-especially the
Caloosa,” I said, shifting my weight to my heels so I could start backing up. Unfortunately, my feet didn’t
want to move.

“I do, but I revere money even more. I’m afraid that I
have very expensive tastes-and a love of gambling.”

Gripes. I suddenly thought back to the Corvette in the museum parking lot. I should’ve known better than to
ignore my vehicular psychology. It never failed me.

“It all started three years ago when Jack found a gold
beaded necklace. He brought it to the Island Museum
and I told him how much I thought it was worth. I could
see the greed in his eyes”

“He was having financial trouble”

“I know.”

“So you decided to capitalize on it for your own
gain.” I started inching away from him.

“I had some pressing debts of my own in Miamiand those people don’t take no for an answer.”

“Oh.”

“Sadly, Jack decided to cut me out of the action completely. He got careless. Started arguing with Everett
about full ownership of the mound. I knew that was so
he could expand the dig. Then one of my buyers called
me and said Jack had tried to contact him directly.” He
shook his head. “Things were breaking down, and I had
to do something. I came over to try to talk some sense
into him and keep me in the loop, so I could continue to
sell the artifacts discretely. But he wouldn’t listen. He
taunted me, waved a Caloosa knife in my face, telling
me that I’d never see a dime after he sold it.”

“And you stabbed him with it.” I had eased away almost a foot by now, and was gauging how fast I could
make it to the path. Considering my muscles were
clenched as tight as a drum, it wouldn’t be too speedy.

“I didn’t mean to. It caused me much distress.” He
wiped the moisture from his face and pushed his glasses
up on his nose. The rain had let up again and was only
lightly misting. “But seeing that gold hilt on the knife
incensed me. I had to have it. I reached for it, but he
wouldn’t let go. We scuffled. He fell backward into the
chair and somehow the knife ended up buried in his
chest”

“You could go to Detective Billie. Tell him it was an
accident,” I said.

“Like he’d believe that”

“But-“

“Not to mention, I intend to keep trafficking in the
artifacts. Jack left his part of the mound to the Henderson Research Center, and I’ll see to it that the excavation never ends. There’s a lot more up here and it’s all
mine, now.” His smile widened into a ghastly grin as he
leveled a gun at me. “I’m sorry, but you’ve only got
yourself to blame.”

I gasped. Panic like I’d never known before welled
up in my throat. “You … you can’t shoot me. The main
murder suspect, Pete, is behind bars”

“He’s made bail. Everyone will think he followed
you up here and shot you. After all, you’re the one who
helped bring him in.”

I felt as if my breath was cut off. I was running out of
options.

“Move over to the pit.” He gestured with the gun.

I stumbled past him and shuffled toward the open
hole, frantically trying to think of something else to say
that might convince him not to kill me. Nothing came
to mind. Just when I needed it, my motor mouth was in
permanent park.

Suddenly, I noticed a movement in the palmetto off
to the side of the excavation site. Two wingtip shoes
connected to two skinny legs protruded from the long,
saw-shaped leaves.

Yippie. We weren’t alone. “Uh … wait a minute. Do
you really think you’ll be able to sell those artifacts?
Chrissy Anders knows all about them. And she’s got
her own blog. That means everyone on the Internet will
know, and you’ll have an impossible time finding buyers” I slowly circled around the other side of the pit so
Bradley would have to turn away from the wing tips.

“I’ll find a way”

Sirens sounded at the base of the mound, near
Hillman’s house. “It’s the police, Bradley. They know
we’re up here,” I exclaimed. “You need to give yourself up”

“Forget it.” His mouth tightened and his left eye began to twitch. “It’ll take them ten minutes to make the
climb, and by then, I’ll be back down the other side.”

The wingtips edged closer, causing a crunching sound
of shells underfoot. Bradley began to turn.

“Please, please don’t kill me!” I flung out my hands,
desperate to keep his attention on me.

“Shut up” He focused on me again. His shoulders
tensed. Oh my God, he was about to fire the gun.

At that moment, Everett jumped out from the palmetto. Bradley pivoted, but not quickly enough. Everett
brought his cane down on the younger man’s head.

Bradley slumped to the ground-unconscious. Seizing my chance, I rounded the pit and grabbed the gun
from his limp hand. “Am I glad to see you,” I exclaimed
as I stood up and beheld Everett’s grizzled old face.
“Did you call the police?”

“I sure did. When I saw your car, I knew you were up
to no good,” he grumbled. “All this commotion, a man
can’t think straight. And poor Mabel, she’s going to
have a nervous fit after all of this.”

“You saved my life … thanks.” I hugged him, sorry
that at one time, I’d thought he was a murderer. I didn’t
care if he hit me with the cane. I was just so glad to be
alive.

“All right. All right. Don’t get carried away, missy.”
He pulled back, but I could see a tiny upturn to his
mouth.

“How long were you hiding there?”

“Long enough for the rain to soak my underwear.”

I let out a sound that hovered between a laugh and
a sob.

“What’s going on?” Detective Billie demanded as
he crashed through the palmettos and came onto the scene. He took several long strides toward me, then
halted.

“Bradley murdered Hillman,” I said in a quivering
voice as I swayed toward him. “He would’ve killed me,
too, except for Everett”

Detective Billie raised his arms as though to embrace
me, then shook his head and let them drop.

I stiffened, trying to ignore the instant’s squeezing
hurt inside.

“I caned him,” Everett said.

“You did what?” Detective Billie’s mouth dropped
open.

“Caned him. And I’d do it again too” Everett held up
his gnarled cane as if it were a trophy.

“This is the gun Bradley was going to use to shoot
me” I produced the weapon. “Can you believe it? He’d
already taken aim, but I saw Everett’s wingtips in the
palmettos and knew if I could create a diversion, I might
have a chance. Everett made some noise, and I-“

“Talked him to death” Everett cackled.

“For goodness sake, give me the gun.” Detective Billie snatched it from my unresisting fingers. “The safety
latch is off.” He clicked it on and then glared at me.
“You realize your messing around in my investigation
almost got you killed?”

“Yes.” I looked down briefly at my sand-encrusted
footwear. Darn, I’d ruined my favorite pair of sandals.
“But I was right. I told you that Pete didn’t do it.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I knew that? I’d been checking through Hillman’s phone records and found
he contacted Bradley and an artifacts dealer in Miami
on the same day,” he grated out. “I arrested Pete because I had to when the knife was found, but I let him
out on bail even though it was a first degree murder
charge. It was all part of my plan. Hillman had gotten
sloppy in the last few weeks. Some of the dealers were
talking-I was tracing down leads. I knew if I could establish that Bradley and Hillman had been selling antiquities and, Hillman was trying to cut out his partner,
I’d have a solid motive for murder.”

“You knew about the Caloosa artifacts?”

“Of course. If you had trusted me to do my job, I
would’ve been able to expose Bradley on my own.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” I demanded, ir- ritation igniting inside of me like a flame. “If you’d told
me all of this, we could’ve worked together-“

“I work alone”

“Well, that’s your problem isn’t it?” I folded my
arms across my chest.

“No, you’re my problem-“

“Will you two pipe down?” Everett cut in. “Just kiss
her and be done with it.”

Detective Billie continued to scowl at me, and I refused to budge an inch.

This was far from over.

Three days later.

I stood in front of my Airstream, surveying the two
spanking-new, fourteen-inch radial tires in satisfaction.
They looked ready to take on the world with their steelspoked wheels and trim ring.