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

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Authors: Abby L. Vandiver
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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.”
     

 
    Chapter
Eighteen
     
    That detective had
acted like I would know who Aaron Coulter was once I found out his name. But I
didn’t. And that made me even more upset. It had worried me all the rest of the
day.
    Miss Vivee said
that I should have just slapped that smirk off the detective’s face. That, she
said, would have made me feel better.
    When Bay told me
the dead guy’s name it did sound vaguely familiar. But I didn’t know if that was
because I had actually heard of him before, or because Bay had told me that he
was an archaeologist and I thought I should know him.
     I decided to call
my mother and find out if she knew who he was. I glanced at the clock and then
over at Miss Vivee asleep in the other bed. It wasn’t very late to me, but I
knew late enough for Miss Vivee to be sleep, and probably my parents. They had
started acting so old.
    I grabbed my cell
phone and went into the bathroom, closed the door and called my parents’ house.
My dad answered the phone. Unfortunate for me, because even though he sounded
as if I had woken him, I had to go through a barrage of questions about my new
boyfriend and when he was going to be able to meet him before he’d relinquish
the phone
    What about the
important work I’m doing down here, Daddy? Aren’t you interested in that?
    And then I thought
about the predicament I was in. If my dad knew that I was a murder suspect,
betcha’ then he wouldn’t be so concerned about my love life.
    “Hi, Mommy,” I
said when I finally got my father to pass the phone to her.
    “Hey, little
girl,” she said. “You’re up late. You doing okay?”
    “Yep. I’m good,” I
lied. I drew out the words thinking whether I should tell her how I was really feeling.
    “Have you outed
your Maya connection with North America yet?” she asked. “If you want, I can
come down and help you. We make a good team.”
    I almost chuckled. Yeah, Mommy you coming might just be a good idea. In fact, I was thinking,
you and Daddy might have to come and bail me out of jail. Oh, and be sure to

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