Peril in Paradise: The Perfect Summer Mystery
Escape to Palm Beach, where sunshine, horses, and murder make for an unforgettable vacation read.
Peril in Paradise: The Perfect Summer Mystery
Escape to Palm Beach, where sunshine, horses, and murder make for an unforgettable vacation read.
Summer is the perfect time to lose yourself in a good mystery.
Whether you’re packing for a beach vacation, relaxing by the pool, or simply looking for your next page-turner, Peril in Paradise transports readers to Florida’s glamorous equestrian world, where pristine showgrounds, luxury resorts, and ocean views conceal secrets far darker than they first appear.
The third installment in The Ivy Snow Mystery Series takes Ivy Snow and her family to Palm Beach for the Winter Equestrian Festival, where her daughter Jaycee is preparing for one of the biggest competitions of her young career.
But paradise has a way of revealing its shadows.
When twenty-one championship polo ponies mysteriously die, Ivy finds herself drawn into another investigation. As shocking events unfold, old relationships resurface, long-buried secrets refuse to stay hidden, and a cold case from Ivy’s own past begins to threaten her future.
One of my favorite things about writing Peril in Paradise was contrasting the beauty of Palm Beach with the mystery unfolding beneath its polished surface. From The Breakers to Wellington’s legendary horse showgrounds and polo fields, the setting became as much a character as the people themselves.
If you’re looking for a mystery with horses, suspense, family secrets, and a touch of Florida sunshine, I hope you’ll enjoy this glimpse into Ivy’s world.
About Peril in Paradise
Dreams turn to nightmares in Florida’s elite equestrian world when Ivy’s daughter, Jaycee, makes her riding debut at one of the nation’s most prestigious horse shows.
As mysterious horse deaths rock the polo community, Ivy finds herself confronting both a dangerous present and a past she thought she’d left behind. When Scotland Yard reopens the investigation into her mother’s death, long-buried secrets begin to surface, threatening everything Ivy has fought to build.
From the elegance of Palm Beach to the intensity of the Winter Equestrian Festival, Peril in Paradise blends horses, suspense, romance, and murder into a fast-paced mystery perfect for summer reading.
Paradise Has Its Secrets
“My first day in paradise, and I’m greeted with these ghastly headlines.”
Chapter One
“OFFICIALS SUSPECT DRUG REACTION IN FLORIDA HORSE DEATHS”
My first day in paradise and I’m greeted with these ghastly headlines. I picked up the morning edition of the Palm Beach Daily News that sat neatly in front of the door to our suite at The Breakers. Jaycee, Trina, and Sloane were still asleep after a dreadful flight from Philadelphia International to West Palm Beach Airport.
I carried the paper, along with a steaming cup of French Roast, to the balcony overlooking the Atlantic. The gently rolling aqua waves cresting in foamy white belied the horrors of the tragedy set out in print before me.
“Polo fans say that few things are as exciting as seeing majestic horses maneuver over a 300-yard-long field. But as anyone attending the U.S. Open Tournament last Sunday can attest, few things are so shocking as seeing those same horses stagger and drop dead. Twenty-one polo ponies belonging to Vincente Villa’s team died either before, during, or after the match.”
Oh my God! Vincente Villa? Vincente. I hadn’t thought about him in years. Or should I say I’ve pushed him out of my mind every time thoughts of him drifted into the corners of my consciousness. It was just too painful to remember.
“Mom, where are you?”
I heard Jaycee calling from inside the suite. “I’m here, honey. Outside on the balcony.”
Jaycee emerged dressed in her khaki riding tights and emerald green “Wellington Equestrian Center” t-shirt. She was ready to head for the show barn where Pirate and her friend Trina’s horse, Dynamo, were stabled for the Winter Equestrian Festival. I took one look at her face, and I knew that she knew.
“They’re dead...aren’t they, Mom? It’s real.”
I shook my head “yes.” I knew my daughter and her psychic tendencies, so it didn’t surprise me in the least that she would know about the death of those horses before she’d even seen the morning paper. Tears welled up in her azure eyes and rolled down her cheeks as she slumped into the chair next to mine.
“I saw it all in my dream, Mom. All of those horses fell to their knees and rolled on the ground in agony.”
“Oh, honey.” I moved beside her and put my arms around her shoulders. I didn’t know what to say. It was hard enough seeing the still photos of the horses in the newspaper, but seeing it all in motion, as Jaycee did in her dream, was almost unbearable.
“How did it happen, Mom? Why?”
“I don’t know, Jaycee. The authorities are looking into it right now.”
“What if it’s an airborne disease? What about Pirate and Dynamo?”
“I’m sure they’re okay. They’re stabled far enough from the polo barn.”
I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince her or myself. Until the cause of death is determined, it could be anything, and it could be highly contagious. Jaycee wiped her tears and headed back inside to cajole the ever-tardy Trina to get a move on. It was important that they got in several hours of practice every day. The competition was extremely tight, and neither girl had ever shown in a venue of this magnitude. The tragedy of the dead horses and fear for their safety would weigh heavily on their minds, making it difficult to concentrate. Concentration and focus were key if they hoped to place high in the rankings. Fortunately, they had Sloane and me in their corner.
As my mind conjured up memories of Sloane and her horse, Sherlock, gracefully executing every jump in the arena at the Barcelona Olympics, she poked her head through the door, inhaling the salty morning air.
“Hey, Ivy. Morning.”
“Good morning, Sloane. How did you sleep?”
She yawned and stretched as she stepped into the sunshine. “Great! My bed is like sleeping in tiramisu.”
Only the best at The Breakers, I thought. She sat down at the table and poured herself a cup of coffee from the room service tray. She already looked like perfection, even though she’d just rolled out of bed. Wavy golden hair, crystal blue eyes, creamy complexion. A modern-day Grace Kelly. That was Sloane.
“So what’s up with Jaycee? She looks like she just lost her best friend.”
I pushed the front page of the newspaper across the table. As she read, I could see the muscles in her face tighten. Her eyes grew wide as she read the horrific story.
“Vincente Villa’s horses. Oh God, Ivy, Vincente Villa!”
“I know.”
The startling sound of my cell phone blaring a digitized version of Blondie’s "Call Me" broke the ominous mood. I saw that it was John Garrett on the other end, and I hit the answer button with a sense of relief. John always had that effect on me, but never so much as in the past few weeks, as I felt our relationship growing into something promising.
“Hello, darling. It’s good to hear your voice,” I said.
“I would have called last night, Ivy, but I was afraid I might wake you. How was your flight?”
I wasn’t about to waste precious air time with the gory details, so I let “fine” suffice. After all, the plane did get us here...eventually. Besides, John had more important things on his mind. As a detective with the Pennsylvania State Police, he had a plate perpetually full, ranging from misdemeanors to murder. I was amazed that he could swim in those shark-infested waters every day and still show his tender side to me. He did, though, and that’s why I found myself falling deeply in love with him. Since my failed love affair and disastrous marriage, I vowed to approach any romantic encounters with extreme caution...if at all.
“How’s your hotel?”
“It’s absolutely fabulous! Sloane and I got the girls settled in last night. I’m glad that we decided to stay here instead of with Crystal and Robert. Her invitation was sweet, but I thought it best to let the newlyweds settle into their new home.”
“That kind of surprised me...you two being such close friends.”
“There will be a lot of comings and goings with the show schedule. It’ll be very disruptive. Besides, we’ll be seeing them almost every day anyway. Robert rented a box at the showgrounds so they could watch the girls compete, and they’ve invited us to dinner to see their new home. Crystal seems very happy...at last.”
Sloane gave me a look that said, ‘wrap it up.’ The girls were anxious to get in the saddle.
“By the way, Ivy…”
Huh oh! I knew that this was John’s way of approaching an unpleasant subject.
“Did you hear about what happened to those polo ponies?”
“Yes, John. We’re all upset. It’s front page news down here.”
“Yeah, well, the story is getting some pretty intense coverage up north, too. News reports are starting to imply that it might not have been an accident.”
“Really? I read that the deaths were probably caused by a bad batch of supplements or something.”
“All I know is that there’s a lot of money involved. Those horses were worth a hundred grand each. Belonged to some rich Argentine banker by the name of Vincente Villa. Know anything about him, Ivy?
“Ah, no. Not really.”
As John and I said our “goodbyes,” I felt my stomach churn. I had just lied to John about Vincente Villa...why?
The Gulfstream G650ER taxied down the runway just as Vincente checked the time on his Rolex. Twelve p.m., precisely on schedule. It had very well better be for the money he paid that pilot to transport him from one place to the next...with plenty of downtime in between flights for that guy’s extracurricular activities. No-nonsense this time. He had to get from Zurich to West Palm Beach Airport as fast as possible.
Vincente had received word from his polo team captain, Enrico Alverio, that twenty-one of his prized thoroughbreds had dropped like flies during the match. He was shocked and outraged. How could this happen? He babied those horses, hiring only the best trainers, riders, and veterinarians to care for his string. Alverio, who was in charge of the stable during Vincente’s absence, was a world-class horseman and consultant to the Royal Family. He had coached Prince Charles personally. Things like this just didn’t happen to people like them.
Not even his Gulfstream could travel fast enough to get him home. He picked up the dedicated iPhone from the passenger-side pocket and hit Bianca's speed dial. She didn’t pick up, of course. He was only her husband after all. He marveled at the fact that when they were together, she had that phone at the ready, constantly. She was ever available to answer any call she deemed worthy, but when he called, it invariably went to voicemail. He’d have to text, and she’d better see it. He wanted his car waiting for him on the private landing strip when he arrived.
Bianca, however, had other concerns. She glanced down at her phone to see Vincente’s name on the caller ID, and promptly ignored it. If it were important, he could leave her a message. He was probably calling to whine about those horses. That was all he cared about: his banking empire and his horses. What about her? What about her needs? She told him before he flew to Zurich that she needed the Gulfstream to get to Paris for her fittings. She had gone to all the trouble of replacing her entire wardrobe from the spring collections, just to make him look good, and he couldn’t care less about getting her to her fittings on time. The couturier fitters would be furious. Well, spring was just around the corner, so he’d better get that plane back here PDQ. Or better yet, why didn’t she just order a Gulfstream for herself? She’d get the same model he has...his and hers, how sweet.
Her phone rang again. The one that she had secretly installed in her private bath. This time it was a call she would certainly take...Enrico.
Some vacations leave you with souvenirs.
Others leave you with secrets.
Thank you for spending a little time in Ivy Snow’s world. Whether you’re reading on the beach, beside the pool, or in your favorite chair at home, I hope Peril in Paradise offers the perfect escape into a world of horses, mystery, and suspense.
After all, every paradise has its secrets.
- The Barngoddess