Maya Mound Mayhem (A Logan Dickerson Cozy Mystery Book 3) (6 page)

Chapter
Fourteen

“What time is it?”
Miss Vivee asked.

“You have watch
on,” I said. She looked down at it and said, “Are you going out there and talk
to that girl? She’s breaking your rules and the government’s.”

“Why are you
worried about it?” I asked. I was still standing at the window watching Riley.

“I’m here to help,
dear,” Miss Vivee said and smiled. A fake one if I ever saw one. “And I have a
murder to solve. With those two blatantly breaking laws I was thinking that
maybe those two could be the killer,” Miss Vivee said. “I’d like to hear what
they have to say.”

“Don’t think he
could be a suspect,” I said and glanced back out of the window. “This is the
first time I’ve seen him. What reason would he have to kill someone around here?”

“Only one way to
find out,” she said. “And that’s to ask him.”

“Miss Vivee,” I
said. I had to keep my eyes from rolling upward. “We are not asking that man
did he kill anyone.”

She looked down at
her watch.

“Fine,” she said.
“But if you have questions for him, you’d better get a move on.”

I eyed her. She
just seemed like she was up to something. “Okay. I’m going to talk to her. You
two stay here.”

“We’re not staying
here. Even if those two aren’t suspects and you don’t need our protection, we
want to know what’s going on. Don’t try and keep all the fun from us, Missy. “

Like the two of
them could protect me from anything.

“C’mon then,” I
said and held the door open for them. I didn’t want to have to talk to Riley
alone anyway.

“Riley,” I said as
I walked up to her. “No visitors on the site. You know that. Not without prior
approval.” I jumped right in on my spiel. I probably could have been more
diplomatic.

“This is my land,”
her visitor said. “I don’t need permission to come here.”

“I’m Logan
Dickerson,” I said and stuck out my hand. Trying to play nice before I told him
he had to leave. He didn’t take my hand. He looked down at it and then followed
it up to my face. He held his gaze.

I guess this won’t
be easy.

“This is Diwali
Wilson,” Riley offered. “He is a Creek Indian. And a former student of mine.”

“You teach?” Miss
Vivee asked.

“I did,” Riley
answered. “Over at University of North Georgia.” She smiled at me. “I invited
him.” And then looked at Miss Vivee “Is there a problem? Are we on different
standards?” she asked.

“I was Dr.
Dickerson’s student,” Miss Vivee said and met eyes with Riley.

“Oh really.” Riley
eyes lit up with amusement.

“Really,” Miss
Vivee said. “When she taught at a university up in Ohio. We’re both from
there,” Miss Vivee pointed to Mac. “She’s a very good teacher, you know.”

“Riley,” I said
trying to curb Miss Vivee’s lies before they got too big to be believable. “You
know that visitors are not allowed down at the ruins. Director McHutchinson has
practically drilled that rule into our brains.”

“I heard that
you’re looking for proof that the Maya migrated to Georgia,” Diwali said.

“I am,” I said.

“Just like the
other guy that was around here. Thought he was going to come down here and
disparage my people.”

“I don’t know who
you’re talking about, but I don’t plan on mocking anyone.”

“Why would anyone
think that it was the Maya that came here, then?” he asked. “Why would you
think that the Maya built those irrigation systems?” He pointed back toward the
ruins. “Those mounds?” His voice was harsh, his face was becoming flush. His
anger had seemed to go from zero to ninety in a matter of seconds. “Why
couldn’t it had been the Native Americas of the United States?”

“No one is saying
that it wasn’t,” I offered. “I’m willing to go along with whatever evidence I
find. I just am starting with the proposition that it was the Maya. And I base
all of that on facts. Not just supposition.”

“You should be
careful of the things you
suppose
,” he said. “It might not turn out to
be such a good thing for you.”

Chapter
Fifteen

“Those two seem
like perfect suspects,” Miss Vivee said when we got back to the trailer.
“They’re not very fond of you. That Indian practically threatened you.” She
nodded her head at me to show me what she was saying was true.

“I don’t’ think
that’s a good reason to put them on your list, Miss Vivee. Just because they
don’t like me,” I said. “Or because they don’t agree with me. And,” I took in a
breath, “I’m not worried about his threat. He was just talking.”

“Who said I was
putting them on my list?” she said with a huff. “I’m not. Yet. I was just
taking note of them. That’s all.”

“It certainly did
seem like that young man doesn’t want you proving that the Maya migrated to
Georgia,” Mac said.

“No he doesn’t.
They
didn’t. But Riley has to do what I ask her to whether she believes in it or
not. That is if she wants to stay on my team. And I don’t care what that Diwali
wants,” I said.

“Why is he, and
apparently Riley, so against you finding Maya?” Mac asked. “And who was the
other person that he mentioned had come around looking for evidence of Maya?”

“I don’t know the
answer,” I said. “To either question. But he seemed pretty upset about it all.”
I thought about the connection between Native American’s in Georgia and the
Maya and spoke my feelings out loud. “I mean there is a good chance the Maya
and the Creek and Cherokee are one in the same,” I said to Mac. I sat down at
the table across from where he sat.

“Those tribes
could be descendants of the Maya,” I continued. “Why would that be so bad?” I
asked more to myself than to Miss Vivee or Mac. “Georgia Creek carry traces of
Maya DNA. That’s a known fact. They had to have gotten it from somewhere,
right? They are similar words in their two languages. The languages of the
Creek Indians contain a lot of Mesoamerican words. And Hitchiti Creeks call
themselves Itsate,” I said. “And Itsate is the name that Itza Mayas called
themselves. Heck the next little town over from here is called Itza.”

“Have you found
anything to prove your theory,” Mac asked.

“No,” I said and
grunted. “I haven’t been here long enough to find anything. But there is other
evidence that has been uncovered. It’s been known about for years. Like the pentagonal
earthen mounds built by the Itza Maya. I saw the ruins when I was in Belize.
And there are identical mounds to those I saw in Belize found here in Georgia.
And most agronomists believe that corn, beans and tobacco came to the natives
of the United States and Canada from Mexico. Nobody’s trying to hide that.”

“Well I thought
you’d never finish talking to them.”

“Yeah, I saw you,
Miss Vivee. You kept looking at your watch.” She evidently wanted to change the
subject, which was for the best because I was getting just as upset as that
Diwali guy had. “You ready to go home?” I asked.

“Are you still on
that, Missy?” She shook a bony finger at me. “I told you, I wasn’t going home.”

“Yeah. Well. We’ll
see about that,” I said.

Chapter
Sixteen

 “Logan doesn’t
want us here,” Miss Vivee said to Mac.” She shook her hand and he lifted up an
eyebrow. “She knows I could solve this case, but she’s just so stubborn.”

“I can hear you,
you know, Miss Vivee.” I looked at her. “This is a very small trailer.”

“Now, Mac,” she
said acting as if I hadn’t said a word. “Help me think. What I would do if I
were back home in Yasamee to solve this crime?” Miss Vivee said.

“You’d visit the
crime scene,” I said. “Which usually means you’d go and talk to Viola Rose at
the Jellybean Cafe.”

“That’s right,”
Mac chimed in in agreement.

“There’s no Viola
Rose here,” I said and narrowed my eyes. “And as you just learned you can’t go
over to the ruins – which is the actual crime scene – even if that lie that you
told that you once were my student were true. It’s against the rules.”

“So that only
leaves a diner,” she said and nodded her head. “Everyone in a diner gossips, no
matter where it is. It’s just like going to the hairdresser’s,” Miss Vivee
said. “We just need to find me a diner. One that’s close by.”

“There is no diner
for you. Seems like you’ve hit a brick wall,” I said.

“Nonsense,” she
said. “No such thing.” She pursed her lips and looked up like she was thinking.
“I know. There’s that Cecil Davis.”

“Don’t start with
that again, Miss Vivee,” I said my eyes cautioning her. “You
cannot
go
and talk to him. You’ve got me in enough trouble as it is telling him that I
like to be around dead things.”

“You do like to be
around dead things,” Miss Vivee said and frowned up her brow. “Why keep denying
it? Even if it is morbid.”

Apparently, the
dead
and
the elderly, I thought. Otherwise I would have gotten rid of
Miss Vivee a long time ago.

I was really going
to have to do something about the people in my social circles.

“I could go and
talk to the Director. What’s his name?” she asked.

I wasn’t
volunteering any information.

“I believe it was
McHutchinson,” Mac offered.

Miss Vivee snapped
her finger. “That’s it.” She clapped her hand on his cheek. “Logan said it to
Riley, didn’t she? Thank you for reminding me, sweetie.”

Oh now since he’s
helping her seal my fate, he’s “sweetie.” She’d just told Viola Rose that he
was “an old goat.”

Miss Vivee. I
refuse to take you to see him.” I said flatly. I didn’t want to disrespect her,
but there was no way I was going to help her do any amateur sleuthing here.
Especially with my neck on the line. “In fact,” I continued, unflappable. “It’s
probably just the right time for the two of you head home.”

“Home?” she
queried. “You keep saying that, but we haven’t helped you yet.”

“I thought you
wanted to come up and see where I worked.”

Miss Vivee looked
at Mac and he looked at her.

“That, too,” they
said in unison.

“But you were
aware I had my notebook, with your name in it I may add. I didn’t keep my
intentions secret. I need to investigate this.”

“I’m sorry, Miss
Vivee.”

“I knew it,
Vivee,” Mac said. “You can’t run the same tactics here that you can in Yasamee.
I told you she wouldn’t let us help her.” He shook his head.

She eyed me. The
evil eye, I’m almost sure it’s called.

“Fine,” she said. “But
without me helping you know you’ll go to hell in a hand basket,” she said. “Good
think I’m not one to say ‘I told you so.’” She looked at me, then at Mac, and
back again at me. “Fine,” she said again shaking her head. “I’ll go home.

“But if it won’t
be too much trouble. Because I wouldn’t ever want to be any trouble to you,”
She fluttered her eyelashes. “I would like to play a round of golf while I’m
here. I don’t get to play on a real course much these day and I heard the one
here is spectacular.” She looked at me. “But if that’s too much to ask of you
since you’re rushing to get me back to Yasamee. To the confines of that house
and Viola Rose’s horrid egg salad.”

“You love her
salad. It’s practically all you eat.”

“Mac,” she
directed her comment to him. “Don’t know when I’ll ever get back to Gainesville.
Or on another golf course like the one I read about here. My little ole’
putt-putt course in my backyard will be the last I play on before I die.”

“Vivee. You know
if
I
could, I’d take you.”

Geesh.

“Oh my goodness,
Miss Vivee. Really?” I felt bad enough making her go home. I just didn’t want
her staying and getting me into any more trouble. But now I was going to deny
her a simple game of golf. I couldn’t do it. She was making me feel so bad. I had
to stop being mean to her.

“I’ll take you.” I
looked at her and smiled. “I’m not trying to be mean, Miss Vivee. It’s just
with all the stuff going on.”

“It’s okay,” she
said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have been so insistent on solving the murder.”

“I’ll take you.
Stay another night. We can go tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” she
frowned up her face.

“Well, when do you
want to go?” I asked.

“Now!” She hopped
up from her chair. “Grab your cane, Mac. You’re gonna need it to keep up with
me once we hit those greens!”

Chapter
Seventeen

I wasn’t sure if
Miss Vivee was really thinking that she and Mac were going to walk the nine
holes the two of them were playing, but I certainly wasn’t going to let that
happen. They’d both have a sun stroke. Or heart attack. And then so would I.

I got a golf cart.
Miss Vivee insisted on driving it. But after twenty minutes of her taking the
small hills at the maximum speed, running into the sand dunes and driving in
unnecessary circles over and over, I took the key. Plus, she seemed more
interesting in getting around the grounds than playing golf.

Although she was,
I had to admit, very good at the game.

“I’m driving,” I
said holding on tight to the key.

“No you’re not,”
she said and tried to swipe it out of my hand. “I’m quite capable of doing it.”

“No.”

“I’ll drive,” Mac
said. I took in a breath and remembered what Bay said about treating the
elderly as the adults they are. I looked over at Miss Vivee. Well the adult
that
most
of them are.

“Okay,” I said and
handed Mac the keys.

We were at the
fourth hole and Miss Vivee swung at a ball that got lost in the air.

“Where did that
ball go?” I asked.

“I think it went
over there,” Miss Vivee pointed in a direction that was opposite of where I
thought it landed. “C’mon, Mac. Let’s go find it.”

“Miss Vivee, I
really don’t think your ball went this way,” I said twisting around to look at
her. She rode up front with Mac and I was riding in the back seat of the golf
cart.

“Yes it did,” she
said annoyed. “I should know where I hit my ball.”

I turned back
around. I’ll just ride and let them figure it out.

Then I heard,
“Yoo-hoo! Hello there! You! Yoo-hoo.”

I turned around to
see who she was calling to, and saw it was Detective Charlie Cecil Davis.

Oh my god!

I ducked, sliding
down in the seat, pulling myself more and more to the right of the seat so my
head would be lower than it. But I must’ve pushed myself too far over because I
fell right on the ground.

Crap!

Then I decided
maybe I should just stay there. I tried to tuck myself into a small ball and
stay very still and very quiet.

“How are you?” I
heard Miss Vivee’s sing-songy voice. Unfurling myself. I drug myself forward,
forearm over forearm guerilla-style, so I could peer around the cart. She was
doing her sashaying walk over to him.

“I thought that
was you,” she said. “I’ve lost my ball and thought maybe it came this way.”

Crap!

I rolled over on
my back and stared up at the clear blue sky. She was going to question that
man. I just knew it. What luck – bad luck that that man was here at the same
time we were . . . Wait . . . A coincidence? With Miss Vivee involved?

Crap!

She got me. I
wouldn’t let her go and talk to him and . . . but wait . . . maybe not. She
couldn’t have known he’d be here golfing. It had to be a coincidence.

A bad coincidence,
but one nonetheless.

I flipped back
over on my stomach and peeked around the cart.

“What a pleasant
surprise,” she was saying. “When you suggested that this was a good place to
golf and that you golfed here, I never thought I see you!”

That little
trickster.

“Oh no?” the
Detective-Two-Name said. “I thought I told you I was golfing here today.”

“Did you now?”
Miss Vivee said. “I don’t remember.”

She smiled at him sweetly. “I was
wondering if you’d found anything else about the case. I’m so worried about our
little Logan.”

I saw that smirk
come over his face.

“Is there a reason
to be worried about her?” he asked.

“I don’t know,”
Miss Vivee said. “You tell me. You haul her in when all she did was find
bones.”

Why doesn’t she
stop talking to that man?

“She was hiding
them so I heard,” he said.

“They’d already
been hidden. By someone else,” she said. “I’m sure someone who’s buried bones
don’t go back to check on them.”

“Then she left
town,” he said.

“She had to come
and see about me,” she said. “I’m an old woman, you know.” She eyed him. “You
don’t know anything about who could have left those bones there, do you?”

“That’s nothing I
can speak on ma’am,” he said.

She took in a
breath, and let her shoulders droop. Rubbing the back of her hand across her
forehead, she said, “I’m not feeling too well right now. Too much exertion, I
think.” She licked her lips and fanned her face with her hand. “Maybe playing
golf was too much for me,” she said, “I’m feeling a little faint.” She drooped
in her knees like she was going down.

You can’t fool me,
Miss Vivee.
I stayed in hiding.
I know you’re faking that fainting act.

“Let me help you,”
Charlie Cecil said, falling for her dubious declarations.

“Oh, Logan’s
here,” Miss Vivee said. “She can help me.” She looked my way. “Logan, dear.
Where are you?”

Mac turned around
and looked for me, the same time the detective and Miss Vivee’s eyes landed on
me lying practically underneath the back of the cart.

I hopped up,
brushing myself off, I put on an awkward smile and trotted over to Miss Vivee.”

“I have her,” I
said.

“Nice to see you
again,” he said in a way that told me he knew I didn’t feel the same way. “And
lucky for you, I saw you. I just got word that they’ve identified the body. You
and your team are free to go back in although I heard that you’ll have to speak
to McHutchinson about starting back up on your research out there.”

“Oh really?” I
tried to not let my excitement show. I was getting to go back in. “Good,” I
said. “Thank you. So. Who was it?”

“Excuse me?” he
said and put his ear up as if he couldn’t hear me.

“Who was the dead
guy?” I said. “His name.”

“We’re not
releasing that information just yet.  But I’m sure you’ll find it interesting
when we do.” A smirk spread across his face. “And I’m sure we’ll have you in to
speak to you further about it.” He looked at Miss Vivee. “Take good care of
your grandmother.”

I looked down at
Miss Vivee still pretending she had the vapors and wondered what the heck he
meant.

We left the golf
course post haste, even though Miss Vivee, after miraculously recovering,
wanted to finish her game. I wouldn’t let her, and after fussing at her
sufficiently, I called Bay. If the detective wasn’t going to give me the
information and just use it as a teaser to upset me more, maybe my boyfriend would
know who the dead guy was. He wasn’t on the case, but I figured he must have
privy to it and he, I’m sure, didn’t want to see me suffer.

Miss Vivee kept
yelling into the phone once I got him on the line. She wanted to know how he
could let them harass me about a murder. Trying to tell him what a horrid man
that Charlie Cecil was. All the while, he tried to explain to her that no one
was harassing me. They were just doing their job. Of course, she didn’t see it
that way, not that she was understanding much at that point. She didn’t even seem
to understand the concept of the mobile phone. She’d spoke so loudly that
people a hundred feet away could’ve probably heard her.

“Miss Vivee,” I
said. “You can talk as soon I as I get off the phone.”

“I don’t want to
talk to him,” she said. “I said everything I have to say. He just needs to fix
it.”

“Tell my
grandmother I’ll fix it,” he said.

“Can you really?”
I asked. “Because I don’t want to have to deal with that Charlie Cecil ever
again.”

“I do,” Miss Vivee
said. “I want to beat him out there on that golf course.” She looked at me. “I
could do it, you know.”

“Bay,” I said and
took in a breath. “I also need you to fix it so your grandmother will calm
down.”

He laughed. “I got
you.”

“What about a
name? You got that?” Miss Vivee yelled into the phone.

“Sure do. Looked
it up while Logan and you were going back and forth,” he said.

“That is not my
doing,” I said. He knew no one could control Miss Vivee.

“You want to write
it down?” he asked.

“No. I’ll remember.
Just tell me.”

“Just like you
said, he was a Caucasian male. Age forty. His name was Aaron Coulter,” he said.
“He was an archaeologist.”