He called Robert on his cell. “I’m in my stateroom. Meet me here.”
“I was watching.” Robert sounded relieved. “I’ll pick us up a beer on the way. You’re probably ready for one.”
Jack ended the call and placed one to Cherise. “I’m aboard with the money.”
She sighed. “Do you feel all right about leaving it in your cabin?”
“It’ll only be for one night.”
“What about Amanda?”
He knew what Cherise was hinting at. “If my guess is correct, she’ll have a headache or some other excuse for not wanting a repeat of last night.”
Silence.
And he knew why.
“So we wait and see,” she said after a moment.
“Cherise . . . you know how I feel about you, right?”
“It’s okay, Jack. Really it is. I just don’t like that devious bitch.”
“Meaning it’s personal?”
“Damn right, it’s personal. I can’t wait to see that scum sucking bottom-feeder get what’s coming to her.”
Jack laughed into his phone. “Can I call you tonight, even if it’s late?”
He heard her breathe in and out. “I’ll be in my cabin.”
* * *
After a chatty and rather uneventful dinner with Amanda and Corey, Jack again found himself sitting with them at the Caribbean Lounge. Amanda had changed into a pair of white, loose-fitting linen or cotton pants and a pull-over green blouse that showed just enough cleavage to keep men interested.
Him included.
He leaned back in his chair with his hands laced behind his head and soaked up the night air. The evening had retained much of the day’s heat. Stars twinkled in a clear sky. The moon revealed more of itself. The bright arc no longer a narrow crescent in the darkness, the cool lunar light added a flavor of romance to the evening.
Not for Amanda.
Or so it seemed.
Since returning to the ship, he’d noticed a subtle change in her behavior toward him. She continued to schmooze with the occasional sexual innuendo thrown in, but she wasn’t laying on the allure to the extent she had.
Not that he minded.
Still, he needed to keep them talking. And figured he’d help the conversation along.
“What’s the plan when we get back to Miami?” His question was directed at no one in particular.
Amanda answered, “You worry too much, dear.”
He cringed at the way dear rolled off her tongue. If he never heard her say that word again, it would be too soon.
“Maybe I do,” he said. “I’d still like to know.”
“Very well, if it will help you relax. I’ve got wonderful plans for us. To start, I have a beautiful place in Miami Beach close to the water. You and I can spend our days and nights doing absolutely nothing we don’t want to do while Corey is away taking care of business. After that, let’s just say you won’t have a thing to worry about.”
Enough dribble.
He turned to her brother. “She’s, of course, referring to you selling the artifacts?”
“It should only take a couple of days,” Corey said with indifference. “What you two do after that is up to you and her.”
And the police. Jack couldn’t help thinking.
And he couldn’t ignore the fact that Corey still hadn’t explained how the purchase of the relics would go down. Or how to get the artifacts through customs . . . or even onboard the ship without drawing undue attention to them. Important questions that required answers.
Especially when faced with the possibility of doing time in a Mexican prison.
He asked, “How is this going to work tomorrow?”
The question clearly got Corey’s attention.
He straightened in his chair. “I’ll tell you how it’s going to work. The ship docks in Cozumel around nine in the morning. I’ll be at the head of the line to get off. You wait half an hour. Then you get off. Across from the pier, on the opposite side of the street, is a t-shirt shop. Be out front.”
“What will you be doing?”
“That’s my business. I’ll pick you up in a rental Jeep and drive us to San Gervasio, a Mayan ruin believed to have been the sanctuary of Ixchel, a goddess of fertility. My contact will be waiting for us next to Chichan Nah, a structure archeologists believe served as a refuge or chapel.”
“A chapel?” Jack couldn’t hide his surprise.
Corey chuckled. “Kind of fitting, since the idols represent gods of death and the underworld.”
Jack didn’t appreciate the morbid humor.
“And after I purchase the artifacts?” He was more than a little curious. “I just run the idols through the security scanner onboard the ship like they’re worthless tourist trinkets?”
Corey nodded. “I have special packaging to put each one in. Security won’t give them a second look.”
“You’ve used this method before and it works?”
“You’ll find out.”
CHAPTER 59
Jack got in line with the other disembarking passengers. He had the money in the nylon bag clutched in the crook of his arm, much the way a star running back would carry a football.
He felt a certain satisfaction knowing he had guessed correctly about Amanda. In the Caribbean Lounge the night before, he had tried several times to coax her back to his cabin. A test. And each time had been unsuccessful.
Even so, that hadn’t put her off her game. She had kissed him passionately and whispered enough steamy talk into his ear to get his motor revved. But when Corey bade him goodnight, she apologized for not staying, gave reassurances she’d more than make it up to him, and walked off with her brother.
The carrot had been put back in play.
Amanda had left him aroused, he couldn’t deny that. Nor did he want to. It served as a reminder this was all a game to her.
Not him.
And he needed no reminder that his smoldering desire burned for Cherise.
No mistake.
He had been quite explicit with her on the cabin phone when he returned to his stateroom following his evening at the Caribbean Lounge. To his disappointment, she refused to join him in his bed for fear Amanda might yet show up. He agreed that was a chance they couldn’t afford to take, and drew consolation from knowing they would soon pull the noose tight around Amanda and her brother.
The line moved quickly.
Jack scanned the crowd ahead of him, hoping to catch a glimpse of Cherise or Robert. They were somewhere among the initial swarm of passengers exiting the ship.
Or were supposed to be.
He didn’t rush. But he kept a steady pace all the way to the t-shirt shop. The business filled with expectant shoppers while he stood idle out front with the money clamped tight in the crook of his arm.
He hated the waiting part, and spent ten minutes in the sun watching tourists come and go with their souvenirs. When Corey finally pulled up in front of him and stopped, he opened the passenger door, anxious to be on their way.
“Everything good to go?” Corey asked.
“Money’s right here.” Jack showed him the bag. “Let’s get this done.”
* * *
Cherise and Robert watched from a hundred feet away. They knew the location of the exchange.
“Get the Jeep and pick me up,” she said. “I’ll wait here.”
More passengers crowded the port.
“Keep an eye out for Amanda,” he said, looking around. “We don’t want her showing up and spoiling everything.”
Cherise hadn’t forgotten.
When Robert stopped the Jeep next to her, she opened the driver’s door and said, “You ride shotgun.”
He didn’t argue. “Hope I don’t need one.”
She caught up with Corey and Jack at the edge of town. A sunbaked car occupied the gap between their Jeep and hers. A local, most likely. Corey did not appear to be in a hurry. Neither did the car. She backed off on the gas and gave them room.
<
br /> * * *
Jack paused in front of the map at the edge of the parking area and assessed the layout of what had once been an important Mayan community. The ruins comprised four different areas extending over several kilometers. But only the site they were about to enter was open to the public.
Corey seemed to know where they were going. He didn’t wait. Instead, he kept walking, putting distance between them. Taken in by the centuries-old ruins, Jack hurried to catch up.
The stone structures of San Gervasio—though less impressive when compared to the huge step pyramid of Chichén Itzá on the Yucatan Peninsula that he’d read about in National Geographic—were fascinating in their own right.
Ahead, a gathering of visitors lingered around what appeared to be a stone altar of some ancient importance. Corey stopped in the middle of the path.
Jack stepped beside him. “What’s wrong?”
“We’ll wait for those people to move on to the central plaza.”
Jack fought a surge of uneasiness that proved difficult. “Can’t we go around them? I want to get this done.”
“Patience, my friend.”
Jack silently urged the tourists to leave the area. Standing amidst ancient stone ruins surrounded by foreboding jungle in a remote section of the island, a hundred thousand dollars in cash tucked in the crook of his arm, was not his idea of how to spend a morning.
Recalling the map on the edge of the parking area, he knew Chichan Nah lay off to the right of their location. He looked in that direction and noticed a rail-thin man about forty, with leather brown skin and thick, curly black hair, standing next to a small stone building on the edge of a forested area.
He asked Corey, “Isn’t that your contact over there?”
Corey didn’t look. He simply nodded in the direction of the people at the altar platform, and said, “After they leave. Now relax.”
Relax . . .
Jack scanned the ruins, his nerves tight with anticipation.
He was in no mood for tricks.
CHAPTER 60
Cherise parked near the entrance to the ruins, a couple of car lengths from Corey’s Jeep. She tossed her blonde wig on the floorboard behind her seat, removed the bobby pins, and shook out her dark hair. There was no need for the disguise here. She and Corey had never met.
“Take it slow,” she said to Robert who stood next to the passenger door. “But keep them in sight.”
He stepped around the front bumper and joined her. “So let me get this straight. We’re only supposed to intervene if something goes wrong? You really think Corey will try something?”
“Guaranteed. The question is when and where?”
They walked slow and without sound.
About a hundred feet in, she stopped and pointed. On a trail leading off to their right, Jack walked a half step behind Corey. Thirty meters ahead of them, next to a stone structure, stood a thin, plainly dressed man with dark skin and black hair. And barely visible in the gloom beyond, in an entrance into what remained of the building, a much larger man holding a MAC-10 pointed toward Jack.
She realized they had to let the scene play out. An armed man didn’t necessarily mean double-cross.
Until it was too late.
Motioning Robert forward, she continued along the pathway to a stone altar and stooped on the far side of its massive base, as though marveling at the centuries-old stonework.
Robert hunched down next to her.
Twenty-five meters in front of them, Jack continued toward the structure and the dark-haired man.
The exchange would take place there.
When the accomplice holding the submachine pistol took a step forward, she drew in a breath and held it.
* * *
Jack kept step with Corey.
The heavy, moist air among the trees and vegetation made him sweat. A damp ring had already formed in the armpits and on the chest of his shirt.
Drops of perspiration streaked his side.
He noticed the silhouette of a large man holding a gun, watching from the shadows inside the stone structure. He kept his eyes on him. If there was trouble, it would come from there.
Corey didn’t appear to be concerned.
When they neared the meeting spot, the big man stepped into view long enough to show himself and a submachine pistol easily recognized as a MAC-10, then slipped back into the gloom.
A bodyguard.
Jack refused to be intimidated by the gun.
Or Thin Man.
Corey raised his hand in greeting. “Hola, amigo.”
Jack watched through a veil of wariness. He’d been given no names. Only promises he knew would not be kept.
All lies.
Himself, included.
Thin Man stepped forward and embraced Corey in a hug. “You brought the money?”
“My friend did.”
Time to conclude the deal.
And get the hell out of there.
Expecting the worst, Jack showed the man the nylon bag while keeping a tight grip on the bundle inside. “It’s right here.”
Corey gave him a nothing-to-worry-about slap on the back. “This is Juan Perez. You’ll be doing business with him.”
Jack tucked the money into the crook of his left arm and offered his right hand in a pretense of politeness. He trusted no one. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Perez. I’m Jack.”
“I also am pleased to meet you.” Juan gripped Jack’s hand with surprising strength. “Now let us get on with our business.”
“The artifacts,” Jack said. “You brought them?”
Juan nodded to his bodyguard who stepped from the shadows and handed him a small wood box—nothing fancy—and a piece of heavy, white cloth. “I believe you will be pleased when you see what I’ve brought.”
Jack took a calming breath. “I’m sure I will.”
He watched Juan spread the cloth on the surface of a low stone wall next to him, remove and unwrap three idols, at least four inches tall, clearly gold, and lay them out on the fabric so they could be viewed.
Jack stepped closer.
Each relic looked identical and yet different. Bloated looking round-bellied deities adorned with ornaments. Clearly male. Quite ugly in his opinion.
And unmistakably, the same three idols shown in picture on Cherise’s phone.
He picked one up and examined it. Then the other two.
“Are they not what I promised, amigo?”
Corey asked, “What do you think, Jack?”
“I’m speechless.” He looked at Corey. “That idol you showed me in the museum is nothing compared to these. I have to have them.”
Juan collected the artifacts, rewrapped them, and returned them to the box.
“Well . . .” Corey motioned at Juan.
Jack exchanged the money for the box. His breath caught. He tightened his grip and turned to Corey. “Let’s get out of here.”
Corey pointed toward the trees. “This way. It’s shorter.”
Jack didn’t debate the point. He hurried into the foliage, anxious to be away from there.
They were almost back to the parking area when Corey stopped him with a hand on his arm. An uncomfortable feeling made him scan the pathway behind them.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Probably nothing,” Corey said. “Go back to the Jeep and wait. I’m just going to backtrack and make sure we aren’t being followed.”
“The hell with it. We need to get back to the ship.”
“In a minute. Wait for me at the Jeep.”
* * *
Cherise remained crouched, her monitor in her hand.
The transaction had taken less than a minute. Jack exchanged the bag of money for the box containing the idols, and he and Corey walked into the trees on a direct route back to the parking area.
The deal had gone down without a problem.
She decided to wait and see if they were followed.
A double-cross after all.
Fro
m her vantage point, she could see the parked vehicles and the two men who remained at the structure.
She gave it some time.
Not more than two minutes later, she drew in a breath when Corey walked back into the ruins and straight up to the man Jack had just done business with.
“Isn’t that—”
She raised her hand to quiet Robert.
When he looked at her, she saw worry in his eyes.
“Stay down,” she whispered.
She watched Corey take the red nylon bag from the thin man, remove a banded stack of hundred dollar bills and hand the money to him. Only the one packet. Corey removed the remaining cash and tucked the stacks into a money belt he had concealed under his shirt. He and the thin man then shook hands, and he walked back toward the parking lot as though nothing had transpired between them.
A move she failed to anticipate.
She needed to talk to Jack.
CHAPTER 61
Cherise waited for the men’s attention to be averted elsewhere before she stood up.
Robert rose with her.
“This way,” she said, and started walking toward a gathering of tourists studying a cluster of stone structures at the end of a path to her left.
Robert followed.
Fighting an urge to check behind her, she thought about what Corey said. He had introduced the thin man as Juan Perez.
Friendly . . .
A man he knew well.
When they reached the group of sightseers, she heard a woman speaking in French. A tour guide. And others in the group asking questions about the structures. She needed no translation.
She turned and looked.
Juan and the other man were gone.
“We need to leave, now,” Robert said.
He shoved his receiver at her. The interior of Jack’s rental Jeep visible on the screen. Corey at the wheel, driving he and Jack away from there. The only sound, the roar of the engine.
“Go.” She swept her hand toward the lot. “We need to catch them before they get too far ahead of us.”
Robert hurried along the path at a fast trot, in need of no further urging.
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