Death in Her Eyes (A Mac Everett Mystery Book 1) by Nick Vellis Page B
Authors: Nick Vellis
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said it was weird routinely knowing what her brother was thinking.
“My parents were comfortable, but with the Disney land sale, well they never expected to get filthy rich. Cary and I were both sort of embarrassed about all the money,” she said, taking a sip of Cuban coffee.
“I wish I had your problem,” I shot back, “with money that is.”
“Cary and I both make a good living, but no one will ever believe our success is our own. It’s hard to accept.” She looked off wistfully lost in thoughts.
“How did it all start? Your dad apparently owns a lot of land,” I asked. I already had the answers from my research. It was more a conversational question than work related. I was enjoying being close to Ashton. She looked up and to the right, recalling facts.
“Sam and Bridget Hunt, my great grandparents, set up a cattle operation in Central Florida in the early 1890s,” she explained. “Their three sons expanded into phosphate mining and timber. They bought up thousands of acres before the Florida land boom, but two of the brothers lost everything when the bubble burst in 1925. One committed suicide and the other was killed in a sawmill accident.
Jeb Hunt, the surviving brother eked out a subsistence living on the family’s original cattle ranch. Despite hanging on by his fingernails at first, by the 1930s he’d amassed a considerable fortune and held thousands of acres. He was a true hardscrabble pioneer. His first large land sale was to the U.S. government in the late 1930s. They built an Army post, and then an air field in what is today the heart of Orlando,” Ashton said.
“The Orlando Naval Training Center the government closed a few years ago?” I asked.
“Yeah, the Navy didn’t take it over until the 1960s. Before that it was an Army flight school, a hospital and lots of other things, but that was just the beginning.” She smiled and continued. “Jeb had two children, Emily and Martin. While Emily married into the politically savvy Broward family, as in Broward County Florida, Martin married a local girl, kept the family business going, and had three children, my brother John, who died of diphtheria as an infant, Cary, and me. Daddy joined the Army and fought in Viet Nam. My mother kept the ranch going.”
“So with his Army pay and income from the ranch, your folks were pretty well set,” I interjected.
“Daddy and Mamma never rivaled the giants like Flagler, Plant, or Broward, but the family helped established citrus as a major industry, was involved in railroads, and like his father and grandfather my daddy held large tracts of land. He sold thousands of swampy undeveloped acres that became Disney World. Despite being one of the wealthiest men in the state, daddy still works his cattle ranch.”
“What happened to you mother?” I asked.
Ashton sucked her lip in and got a faraway look as her eyes became moist. She looked up and to the right retrieving memories then said, “She died in a car crash when daddy was stationed in the Manila. Mamma went out there to visit him and…she never came back.”
“How old were you?” I asked.
“I was in college. I’d rather not talk about my mother, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure, have it your way. What’s your father like?” I asked.
“Daddy? You met him. Why do you ask?”
“I met the famous man. I wondered what your father is like ,” I said.
“He’s down to earth, kind, but won’t stand for any nonsense, yet he’s been bailing Cary out for years. He’s not religious, but he quotes the Bible all the time, particularly Proverbs and Psalms.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” I said.
“This business with Cary is driving him crazy. He likes to stay out of the public eye.”
“What does he like to do?”
“He hunts and fishes. He’s always out on the lake or in the woods. He loves living out in the country. He manages the family business interests, of course. He’s a big reader, mostly history and biographies. He’ll read
“My parents were comfortable, but with the Disney land sale, well they never expected to get filthy rich. Cary and I were both sort of embarrassed about all the money,” she said, taking a sip of Cuban coffee.
“I wish I had your problem,” I shot back, “with money that is.”
“Cary and I both make a good living, but no one will ever believe our success is our own. It’s hard to accept.” She looked off wistfully lost in thoughts.
“How did it all start? Your dad apparently owns a lot of land,” I asked. I already had the answers from my research. It was more a conversational question than work related. I was enjoying being close to Ashton. She looked up and to the right, recalling facts.
“Sam and Bridget Hunt, my great grandparents, set up a cattle operation in Central Florida in the early 1890s,” she explained. “Their three sons expanded into phosphate mining and timber. They bought up thousands of acres before the Florida land boom, but two of the brothers lost everything when the bubble burst in 1925. One committed suicide and the other was killed in a sawmill accident.
Jeb Hunt, the surviving brother eked out a subsistence living on the family’s original cattle ranch. Despite hanging on by his fingernails at first, by the 1930s he’d amassed a considerable fortune and held thousands of acres. He was a true hardscrabble pioneer. His first large land sale was to the U.S. government in the late 1930s. They built an Army post, and then an air field in what is today the heart of Orlando,” Ashton said.
“The Orlando Naval Training Center the government closed a few years ago?” I asked.
“Yeah, the Navy didn’t take it over until the 1960s. Before that it was an Army flight school, a hospital and lots of other things, but that was just the beginning.” She smiled and continued. “Jeb had two children, Emily and Martin. While Emily married into the politically savvy Broward family, as in Broward County Florida, Martin married a local girl, kept the family business going, and had three children, my brother John, who died of diphtheria as an infant, Cary, and me. Daddy joined the Army and fought in Viet Nam. My mother kept the ranch going.”
“So with his Army pay and income from the ranch, your folks were pretty well set,” I interjected.
“Daddy and Mamma never rivaled the giants like Flagler, Plant, or Broward, but the family helped established citrus as a major industry, was involved in railroads, and like his father and grandfather my daddy held large tracts of land. He sold thousands of swampy undeveloped acres that became Disney World. Despite being one of the wealthiest men in the state, daddy still works his cattle ranch.”
“What happened to you mother?” I asked.
Ashton sucked her lip in and got a faraway look as her eyes became moist. She looked up and to the right retrieving memories then said, “She died in a car crash when daddy was stationed in the Manila. Mamma went out there to visit him and…she never came back.”
“How old were you?” I asked.
“I was in college. I’d rather not talk about my mother, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure, have it your way. What’s your father like?” I asked.
“Daddy? You met him. Why do you ask?”
“I met the famous man. I wondered what your father is like ,” I said.
“He’s down to earth, kind, but won’t stand for any nonsense, yet he’s been bailing Cary out for years. He’s not religious, but he quotes the Bible all the time, particularly Proverbs and Psalms.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” I said.
“This business with Cary is driving him crazy. He likes to stay out of the public eye.”
“What does he like to do?”
“He hunts and fishes. He’s always out on the lake or in the woods. He loves living out in the country. He manages the family business interests, of course. He’s a big reader, mostly history and biographies. He’ll read
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