“See anyone you know?” he asked. “Tulum isn’t that far away.”
“No. I just can tell by the faces that I’m in the Yucatan. Undoubtedly, our workers have relatives here, but I don’t know them by name.”
“But they could know you.”
“Recognize me, yes,” Lina said. “Knowing me is a lot different.”
“How does your neck feel?”
“Calm,” she said, licking up a stray bit of spicy sauce.
“Let me know when that changes.” He looked at the piles of food. “You mind sharing?”
“I was thinking of you when I ordered. The sauce in the green bowl will eat through steel. You should love it.”
Hunter smiled and went to work. He ate with excellent manners, and quickly enough so that if something interrupted the meal, he wouldn’t leave the table hungry. After a few minutes, he looked up. Lina was watching him, smiling in a way that said she liked seeing him enjoy the Yucatec food she loved.
“You really do feel at home in Mexico,” she murmured.
“As long as I don’t have to eat the worms at the bottom of the mescal bottle.”
She laughed and relaxed.
Hunter ate and kept an eye on the patrons.
He didn’t want any nasty surprises. But so far, so good. The cafe was filled mostly with chattering people, laughter, and the occasional off-color toast from a table of five young men. Their clothes labeled them as workers, not narcos.
“Rodrigo called you a queen among peasants,” Hunter said.
“Now I know he was drunk.”
Hunter looked at Lina’s strong, high cheekbones and large, almost almond eyes. She had an extraordinary face. Haunting. Timeless.
“Rodrigo has seen more than his share of Maya ruins,” Hunter said. “He lives well over the line between angels and devils. If I hadn’t saved his life a few years back, he wouldn’t even talk to me now. He’s a hard man to frighten. Yet he’s running scared, heading for the airport and the hell away from Tulum.”
Lina paused just before she took a bite. “Why?”
“Some tomb robbers he knows got themselves killed.” He took a big bite and watched her.
She chewed, swallowed, prepared another bite. “If I don’t think of their families, I can say they had it coming.”
But her dark eyes said she was thinking of wives and children, parents and siblings and cousins who would have holes torn out of their lives.
“They died the old-fashioned way,” Hunter said, swallowing the
“There are many full-blooded Maya here,” Lina said. She really wanted to eat more, but wasn’t sure her stomach had room. “And out in the small villages…well, you saw the cross of corn and the like. Catholic sure, but only on Sundays. The rest of the time, they live with the gods of their ancestors.”
“All the Maya are pagans underneath?”
“No. They’re like every other people. When it comes to any religion, they have fanatics and unbelievers and everything in between. But as a rule, the closer the jungle, the closer the old gods.”
Hunter nodded. He’d noticed the same thing himself.
“What’s next?” Lina asked, giving up on the savory food.
“De la Poole. You sure you don’t want to call him?”
“I’d rather surprise him.”
“What if he isn’t there?” Hunter asked.
“Someone at the museum will know where he is.”
Without appearing to, Hunter took another look around the cafe. Nothing had changed. The locals might admire Lina’s royal looks, but they weren’t groupies.
“You finished?” he asked.
“Stuffed.”
He threw some money on the table. “Let’s go.”
They left the cafe and went to their rented Bronco. Hunter didn’t see anyone who cared. Lina’s neck didn’t itch.
“I’ll drive,” she said. “You check on Jase.”
Hunter didn’t argue. She knew the way better than he did.
The Cancun-Chetumal highway was two lanes of divided road in either direction. There was jungle crowding on both sides, giving only rare glimpses of the ocean that was close enough to taste as an underlying tang in the air pouring through the open windows.
Hunter changed chips in his phone and called Jase at the hospital. As he waited for the call to connect, he noticed a flash of color on the right. Another shrine overflowing with flowers and offerings of food and liquor. By the time he was put through to Jase’s room, a second shrine flashed by on the left.
To Hunter’s shock, Jase answered his own call.
“’Lo?”
“Jase, it’s me, Hunter. What are you doing answering the phone?”
“Enjoying being alive.” Jase’s words were a bit slow and slightly breathless, but otherwise strong. “’Sup?”
“I took Lina and ran south.”
“Good. Bullets hurt like a bitch.”
“Brubaker off your ass?” Hunter asked.
“Off it? Hell, he’s kissing it. Dude’s rolling in artifacts.”
“What?”
“Got ’em all back and then some,” Jase said.
“Wait, are you telling me that the missing artifacts have been returned, obsidian mask and all?”
Lina shot Hunter a startled look, then went back to driving. But she kept listening real hard.
“Close enough for government work,” Jase said.
“Amigo, you’re not making sense. I’ll call later.”
Jase kept talking. “Snake’s lawyer delivered the box, from what I heard. Said he had a client with a dirty conscience. Now it’s clean.”
“Snakeman’s lawyer coughed up the artifacts?” Hunter asked in disbelief. “Did the lawyer say where the artifacts came from?”
“Janitor stole them to pay Snakeman a gambling bet.”
“Bullshit.”
“Yeah,” Jase said, “but it grows mighty fine roses. Even if they aren’t what you planted.”
Ali’s voice came in the background, talking to the nurse. It was time for Jase’s pain shot.
“Give it to me while I’m on the phone,” Jase said.
Hunter knew he’d have to talk fast. Pain meds tended to hit Jase like a landslide.
“So you have artifacts,” Hunter said, “even if they aren’t exactly what went missing?”
“Yeah. They’re in real good shape, too. Like new.”
“And Brubaker’s buying it?”
“Ouch! You using a twelve-gauge needle?” Then, “Brubaker ain’t looking in no gift pony’s mouth. ICE will be front and center at the re-pa-tri-a-tion ceremony. Gold star in my file. Maybe a raise, new title.”
“Are you high?”
“Getting there. Damn, the drugs in here are prime. Hey, darling, c’mon over and give your big stud a kiss.”
Ali’s giggle came through the connection, then the sound of a kiss. Over Jase’s muttered protests, she took the phone.
“Hunter?”
