Look What the Wind Blew In (25 page)

She frowned up at him. “A
chakan
. That’s what the Maya call
Xtabay
—an evil spirit—when it takes the form of a serpent.”

“Snakes. Just great.” Quint sounded anxious. “Why does it have to turn into a snake? Why not a jungle rat? Or something cute, like a baby monkey?”

This year’s dig might as well be flushed down the toilet now. No amount of money was going to calm their fears when it came to a
chakan
, not even the cash bonus she’d offered them last night at supper if they’d stick around until the end of the dig season. Those who had been hooting and trilling at the idea of more money were now looking here and there with the white of their eyes showing.

She heard a groan come from inside the tent, then Teodoro stepped out, his face pale. She rushed to him. “How is he?”

“Okay, but he’ll have a sore leg for several days.”

“Did you kill the snake?”

“Yes.”

“What kind was it?”

“Coral.” He crossed himself. “It used its venom.”

“An accident?” she whispered for his ears only.

He shook his head.

The need to scream in frustration clawed its way up her throat. She gulped it back down. “Where’s Dad?”

“Inside.”

She looked over at her crew, wondering who would be trying to hurt them. And why? She had no idea how to stop this from getting any worse, not without knowing who or what they were up against.

“Don’t let them see the snake,” she told Teodoro.

The murmurs grew louder all of a sudden, mixed with gasps and cries of fear. Esteban pointed at the tent and ran several feet away.

“Too late,” Teodoro said and stepped back inside.

“What now?” she growled, pushing aside several men. One of them stepped back quickly, coming down on her toes. He apologized and moved aside, giving her a clear view of the instigator.

Rover!

She cursed about both her throbbing toes and her
jabalí
.

The little shit squealed happily up at her from where he stood in the middle of the circle, the snake dangling from his mouth.

Chapter Thirteen

Lolcatali: A ritual that protects a village from evil spirits.

What a huge catastro-fuck!

Angélica collapsed onto her cot, hiding out in her tent after a breakfast loaded with frustration and indigestion.

Once the hubbub about the snake had died down, three more crewmembers decided to leave the dig site, not willing to risk running into
Xtabay
, not even for extra cash. No amount of hot air from her could convince them it was a stupid snake and not some evil spirit brought about by a nonexistent goddamned curse.

Now she was left with a meager crew of thirteen plus Quint. She grabbed her pillow and covered her face.

She was going to need one hell of a big sacrifice to the Maya gods to fix this mess. Something akin to the bloodletting days of old.

Hey! Where was Jared? She’d happily pierce his penis with a stingray spine.

The whooshing of helicopter blades coming closer made her lower the pillow. It was Wednesday. That meant the helicopter now hovering overhead carried her knight in shining armor:
Pedro!

She unzipped her tent flap and found Jared standing there watching the helicopter descend. The Maya gods must have taken her bloodletting idea seriously. She’d need to sharpen her stingray spine.

Nah, on second thought, leave it blunted.

“What do you need, Jared?” she hollered over the whooshing of the blades.

He frowned down at her. “Pedro’s here.”

No shit, Sherlock. “I noticed.” She zipped her tent.

“Is he taking your father somewhere?”

“No. He’s coming to help.”

“For the day?”

“For the next two weeks.”

The helicopter landed, powering down. She heard her father shout out Pedro’s name.

“You’re looking a bit frazzled these days, darling,” Jared told her.

“Thanks for noticing.”

“How is the boy who got bit by the snake doing?”

“Teodoro says he’ll be sore for a few days, but otherwise fine.” She nodded toward where Pedro had landed. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to head over and see Pedro.”

“Wait.” He caught her shoulder. “You need to keep a tighter leash on Parker.”

This territorial hokey-pokey was really getting old. “Quint is not your concern, Jared.”

“He is as long as he’s still here. Have you considered that he may have his own agenda for being down here? Something to do with Dr. Hughes? Something that may require him to interfere with your advancements here? Even sabotage your work?”

“Of course I’ve considered that.” Well, maybe not that part about Quint hindering her goals for a reason having to do with Hughes, but Jared didn’t need to know that.

“Have you informed him he’s leaving?”

“I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“Because I’d hate to have to tell your father that this is his last year down here.”

She shoved his hand off her shoulder. “You know, you haven’t changed a bit over the years. One minute you’re telling me how much you care about me, the next you’re trying to tear me down.”

“I’m only looking out for your welfare. I know how much this dig site means to you. Remember, I’ve known Parker a lot longer than you.”

“You knew him twenty years ago.”

“A tiger doesn’t change his stripes.”

She glared up at him. “No, he sure doesn’t, does he?”

“Angélica, don’t let our past differences interfere with your admirable, logical, level-headed good sense.”

“Fuck you.”

She left him standing in front of her tent. Quint had better come through on his part of the deal they had made yesterday, because otherwise she’d just sealed her father’s fate.

* * *

Mornings in this hellhole were legendarily awful, with biting flies and sweltering humidity. All Quint needed was a three-legged dog, an empty wallet, and a broken heart and he’d have an award-winning country song on his hands.

He finger-combed his hair as he walked back to his tent, his jaw stinging from shaving with plain old soap. Here he was fresh from the tin-bucket shower, and he was already sweating. That was just a Porta-Potty full of wonderful.

Earlier, after wrestling the snake from Rover’s jaws and getting coated in snake blood and javelina slobber in the process, he’d skipped breakfast in lieu of a scrub down. He’d been scraping off the last of his beard stubble when he’d heard the helicopter coming in.

As soon as he dropped off his shampoo and razor, he was going to head over and find out who had arrived for the party … or if the helicopter was here to rush someone away. He hoped Diego’s leg hadn’t taken a turn for the worse.

He turned the corner of his tent and saw Steel standing across the way outside of Angélica’s zip flap.

The jerk challenged him with a scowl.

Speaking of snakes, Quint thought with a lip curl. He paused long enough to toss his stuff inside his tent and then headed over to deal with more venomous vermin.

“You misplace your stick?” he asked Steel.

“What?”

“You know, the one that’s been jammed up your ass since you showed up here?”

The skin around Steel’s mouth tightened. “What’s it like for you, Parker, trying to fit in with the more intellectual crowd and always falling abysmally short?”

And the gloves were off again. “You and I need to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you—except when are you leaving?”

Quint planted his feet, ready to lock horns. “I’m not.”

“I believe that’s Angélica’s decision, but if I were you, I’d start packing.”

“She told me yesterday I could stay as long as I needed.”

Steel sniffed. “That’s her mistake then.”

“Something told me you’d take that attitude. Why are you so determined to get me out of here?”

“You’re not trustworthy.”

“Trustworthy or not, I have a legitimate reason for being here, unlike you.”

“You’re a liar. When Angélica finds out how deep your lies go, she’ll tear you apart limb by limb.”

Quint rubbed his smooth chin, studying his adversary, deciding tactics. “Where did the love go, Steel? Does this animosity you’re still clinging to after twenty long years have anything to do with my turning you in for being too rough with that young Maya kid?”

Steel’s jaw jutted. “He needed to be disciplined.”

Maybe, but not beaten senseless. “Or are you still bellyaching because Dr. Hughes trusted me with secrets he refused to share with you?”

“You did nothing to deserve his esteem. You were a selfish brat brought down here to be taught how to work hard and respect authority.”

Quint didn’t deny that. He’d been fresh out of school, full of rebellion, and high from an overinflated ego. Had it not been for Dr. Hughes, he probably wouldn’t be where he was today. “Dr. Hughes recognized my potential, and in case you’ve forgotten, his respect wasn’t given freely. I earned it that summer through sweat—lots of sweat.”

A vein pulsed in Steel’s temple. “Why are you here, Parker?”

“You know exactly why I’m here.”
To find a ghost.
“To write an article.”

“I hope you don’t have some romantic notion that you’ll find Dr. Hughes holed up in one of these temples, waiting for you to rescue him, because he’s long dead.”

Interesting that Steel would mention that. “What makes you so sure of his demise?”

“Five years ago, a plane was found in the Guatemalan jungle, two hundred and fifty miles southwest of here, half swallowed by the bush.”

“I’m sure there are downed planes strewn throughout the Central and South American jungles. What does that have to do with Dr. Hughes?”

“Hughes is dead.” Steel took a step closer as if to reinforce his point. “He was on that plane when it crashed and burned twenty years ago.”

Quint tried to hide his surprise behind a stony mask. “What proof is there that Dr. Hughes was on that plane?”

“The tail broke off during the crash. They found his luggage near the wreckage, along with other personal belongings.”

“How come Mrs. Hughes wasn’t aware of this?”

“She was, but she chose not to believe it, clinging to some foolish hope of finding her husband alive in some remote village with his memory wiped.”

He didn’t want to believe Steel. Hell, part of Quint was holding onto hope, too. Hope that Dr. Hughes was still around, impossible as that seemed.

Until he could investigate this nugget of information further, he decided to change the subject. “Drop the blackmail threat, Steel. I’m not leaving tomorrow.”

Steel inhaled through his teeth. “Angélica told you about our little arrangement, did she? How unfortunate for her father.”

“Drop the blackmail or deal with the consequences.”

“This is really a bit over your head, Parker.”

“Okay, let me speak in your vernacular,” Quint said. “If you don’t drop the blackmail threat, I’m going to call up the editor of
American Archaeology Today
, who happens to be a good friend of mine, and explain to her that you are using blackmail as a means to get me kicked off this dig site.”

Steel’s face hardened so fast Quint was amazed it didn’t split in two.

He continued, “We’ll see how your superiors like having their university criticized in print for using petty treachery and interfering with not only the public’s awareness of the past, but also the scientific community’s advancement in knowledge about the Maya people.” Quint crossed his arms over his chest. “Trust me, you aren’t going to be well-liked when this article comes out. Hell, who knows, you might even lose your job, along with respect from your peers.”

If looks could burn a man to death, Quint would be nothing more than a poof of smoke.

He rocked back on his heels. “So what’s it going to be, Steel? Are you going to back off, or do I have to hike to the village this morning and make a phone call?”

* * *

By the time Angélica caught up with her father and Pedro in the mess tent, Juan had already spilled most of the beans.

“The blisters were where?” Pedro grimaced.

“You heard me,” Juan said. “And then Jared ended up with biting ants in his cot.”

“No!”

“He was covered with red welts for over a day. Angélica made him wear a hat and sunglasses whenever he left his tent. He looked like some kind of polka-dotted clown. And then—”