Barbara Silkstone - Wendy Darlin 04 - Miami Mummies Read Online Free

mummies. Not one but two friggin’ mummies!” She threw her hands in the air dumping the last drops of her Pinot Grigio on the table. “And worse, I have Indians on the warpath.”
    I winced. I guess when you grow up with as much money as Tippy, political correctness isn’t always on your mind. Now that she’d raised the subject of Native Americans, the face of the dead guy struck a note. “Is the Bates deal related to what happened in the garage?”
    She nodded. “I don’t know how they found out, but a few days after the mummies were found, we got a call from a Semaphore tribal elder. He claimed the land was a burial ground for the old Tequesta tribe and should not be further disturbed. We told him it was our land and we’d do what we wanted with it once the mummy hoax was cleared up. The tribe has become ever more threatening since then. I found a tomahawk on my doorstep this morning.”
    “That doesn’t sound legit. They might as well leave their address for the cops. A tomahawk is a joke.”
    “The guy in the garage today wasn’t a joke. Nor was this.” She pulled her Hermès scarf aside revealing bruises on her neck that could have been made by somebody grabbing her throat.
    I grasped her hand. “Oh my God, Tippy. What happened?”
    “My architect is in a building right around the corner from that garage so it’s the easiest place to park. I stepped out of my car and there was this Indian, ranting about how we weren’t going to dishonor his ancestors and the graves and a bunch of stuff I couldn’t understand. He was crazy or on drugs or something. I tried to get back in my car. He grabbed me by the neck. I managed to get my knife out of my purse. I only wanted to scare him but he squeezed my neck harder and pushed. I fell back and he kind of fell on the knife and then rolled over. I started screaming and you showed up. Then I went downtown and gave my statement. Did you know they can lift fingerprints from your skin?”
    “What’s the story on the knife?”
    “I always carry it. Daddy didn’t want me to carry a gun… figured I’d shoot myself in the foot or something so he gave me a switchblade for my birthday. No way was this guy expecting a shiv. Surprise.”
    A shiv ? Who had this Bal Harbour babe been hanging with?
    “Any idea about how he knew where to find you?”
    She stared into her empty wine glass. “I don’t know. He must have followed me.” The waiter appeared at her side and filled the glass.
    For the first time since I arrived, I took stock of her. She looked perfect in a cream-colored suit with dolman sleeves and a row of tiny gold buttons down the front. I wasn’t going to ask how she did it. She probably had three servants rush over to Miami PD and dress and groom her before she left.
    A glint of steel showed in her eyes like I’d never seen in her before. “But I’m going to do this project. For Daddy. And for me.” Then she slid back into her usual personality. “But some boy-genius has decided the mummies might be from another civilization. The history nuts are coming out of the woodwork. I can’t put a toy shovel in the ground much less heavy equipment. I’m sure these mummies are red herons.”
    I gritted my teeth. “Herrings. Red herrings.” Idiots and idioms.
    Tippy rubbed me the wrong way more than once. She had some sort of borderline personality disorder. I was surprised the INS hadn’t picked her up yet.
    She snapped, “Whatever. Anyway, I didn’t commission a friggin’ study. And if I hire just any archaeologist or let the state’s bone-spinner step in I might as well just hand over the land. They’ll declare it a historic site, give me ten bucks, pat me on the ass, and send me down the road.”
    She chugged her wine.
    Her hands fluttered erratically like moths. She babbled. “The construction plans are inked and stamped. I’ve agreed to all the bids and signed the contract to demolish the Bates. A delay will wipe me out financially and Daddy