Gnarly New Year (Corsario Cove Cozy Mystery #2) by Anna Celeste Burke
Authors: Anna Celeste Burke
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humongous storage shed unless those barrels are full of rum! It’s more junk like Owen had down below, as far as I can see,” Mick interjected.
“What do you think archeologists retrieve when they find a site?” I snapped at Mick before I could stop myself.
“Treasure! Gold and diamonds and rubies.” His eyes glowed for a moment in the lantern light.
“Well, you must have heard that old proverb, Mick: one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. Mostly what they find are more mundane objects. The things people used in their everyday lives.”
“Wow, that’s true, isn’t it, Kim? A lot of the museum stuff is pieces of old dishes, tools, baskets, and ordinary things like those raggedy blankets,” Brien shone his lantern toward the other side of the altar where a pile of old blankets or tapestries lay on the floor.
“Okay, I get it. These old burlap sacks could have historical value. Almost nobody uses them anymore.”
“Exactly, Mick!” I took a couple of steps farther into that cavern and swung my lantern toward the sacks Mick mentioned. I stopped abruptly as the sacks wriggled.
“Rats!” I shouted.
“What happened, Kim? Did you hurt yourself?” Brien, who had wandered off, was back at my side in a flash.
“No, I mean rats! As in real rats.” I directed a beam of light toward the wall off to our left. A critter scurried to escape the light. I followed it as it ran along the edge of the room toward the back wall before it disappeared from view.
I’m not all that squeamish about rats. In fact, I bear a grudging respect for their ability to survive on the street, having spent a little time on my own doing the same. That didn’t mean I wanted to stay in here and poke around on turf they had claimed. Let the more archeologically-inclined do that.
“Time to move this visit along,” I muttered. “Where did you find that GPS device, Mick?”
“Over there in a stack of boxes under a tarp.” He pointed to a mound loosely covered with a large, dusty sheet of plastic. Near the path that rat had taken as it skittered on its way to who knows where. To get to it, we had to walk past the burlap bags that had been home to the fleeing rat. An edge of the tarp had been lifted and folded back revealing stacks of boxes too new to be of any historical significance. Police investigators might find them of great interest, however.
“Did you leave the tarp like that, Mick?”
“Could be. I remember lifting it up. The GPS was just lying there on top, so I scooped it up and got the heck out of here. I wasn’t feeling too good by then.”
“I remember.” I understood it now, too. Chamber of heinousness was a bit over the top, but it wasn’t pleasant, either. Especially if I considered the fact we were a hundred feet underground, with no way out except up that narrow passageway of crudely carved stone steps. Oh yeah, and we happened to be in the company of rats.
“Cut it out, Kim,” I muttered, trying to stop the self-talk that was taking me toward panic!
“Hey, Babe, did you say something?” Brien must have sensed my mounting anxiety. He reached out and pulled me closer to him, and put one of those brawny arms of his around me.
“Not really, Hon," I said, leaning against him as I spoke. Despite the setting, it struck me that I had never called anyone "Hon" before in my life! Maybe I'd mention that to Brien later when we were alone.
"Show us exactly where you found that GPS device.”
“Sure,” Mick said, sauntering the few feet to examine that stack of boxes. He slid that tarp back a bit more. You could see what's referred to as a "void." An oddly-shaped space that once must have held the GPS device, surrounded by dust. Mick must have been true to his word that he had fled after finding that thing, or more of the area around it would have been disturbed.
“Let’s have a look at what's in this stack. I suppose it’s too much to hope Owen left behind anything else to give us a better idea of
“What do you think archeologists retrieve when they find a site?” I snapped at Mick before I could stop myself.
“Treasure! Gold and diamonds and rubies.” His eyes glowed for a moment in the lantern light.
“Well, you must have heard that old proverb, Mick: one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. Mostly what they find are more mundane objects. The things people used in their everyday lives.”
“Wow, that’s true, isn’t it, Kim? A lot of the museum stuff is pieces of old dishes, tools, baskets, and ordinary things like those raggedy blankets,” Brien shone his lantern toward the other side of the altar where a pile of old blankets or tapestries lay on the floor.
“Okay, I get it. These old burlap sacks could have historical value. Almost nobody uses them anymore.”
“Exactly, Mick!” I took a couple of steps farther into that cavern and swung my lantern toward the sacks Mick mentioned. I stopped abruptly as the sacks wriggled.
“Rats!” I shouted.
“What happened, Kim? Did you hurt yourself?” Brien, who had wandered off, was back at my side in a flash.
“No, I mean rats! As in real rats.” I directed a beam of light toward the wall off to our left. A critter scurried to escape the light. I followed it as it ran along the edge of the room toward the back wall before it disappeared from view.
I’m not all that squeamish about rats. In fact, I bear a grudging respect for their ability to survive on the street, having spent a little time on my own doing the same. That didn’t mean I wanted to stay in here and poke around on turf they had claimed. Let the more archeologically-inclined do that.
“Time to move this visit along,” I muttered. “Where did you find that GPS device, Mick?”
“Over there in a stack of boxes under a tarp.” He pointed to a mound loosely covered with a large, dusty sheet of plastic. Near the path that rat had taken as it skittered on its way to who knows where. To get to it, we had to walk past the burlap bags that had been home to the fleeing rat. An edge of the tarp had been lifted and folded back revealing stacks of boxes too new to be of any historical significance. Police investigators might find them of great interest, however.
“Did you leave the tarp like that, Mick?”
“Could be. I remember lifting it up. The GPS was just lying there on top, so I scooped it up and got the heck out of here. I wasn’t feeling too good by then.”
“I remember.” I understood it now, too. Chamber of heinousness was a bit over the top, but it wasn’t pleasant, either. Especially if I considered the fact we were a hundred feet underground, with no way out except up that narrow passageway of crudely carved stone steps. Oh yeah, and we happened to be in the company of rats.
“Cut it out, Kim,” I muttered, trying to stop the self-talk that was taking me toward panic!
“Hey, Babe, did you say something?” Brien must have sensed my mounting anxiety. He reached out and pulled me closer to him, and put one of those brawny arms of his around me.
“Not really, Hon," I said, leaning against him as I spoke. Despite the setting, it struck me that I had never called anyone "Hon" before in my life! Maybe I'd mention that to Brien later when we were alone.
"Show us exactly where you found that GPS device.”
“Sure,” Mick said, sauntering the few feet to examine that stack of boxes. He slid that tarp back a bit more. You could see what's referred to as a "void." An oddly-shaped space that once must have held the GPS device, surrounded by dust. Mick must have been true to his word that he had fled after finding that thing, or more of the area around it would have been disturbed.
“Let’s have a look at what's in this stack. I suppose it’s too much to hope Owen left behind anything else to give us a better idea of
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