Make No Bones About It ( a Dig Site Mystery--Book 2)

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Make No Bones About It ( a Dig Site Mystery--Book 2) Page 18

by Ann Charles


  “Angélica!”

  The sound of Pedro’s voice cut through the frog-like croaking of a small flock of keel-billed toucans dressed in yellow bibs and black plumage, chatting in the ceiba trees overhead. There was something in his tone that made Angélica’s ears perk up.

  She wiped her sweaty face with her shirt and turned back toward the Chakmo’ol Temple. She detoured off the overgrown trail she’d been exploring with the help of her machete and compass and slashed her way through a patch of hojo santa shrubs lining the edge of the site’s grassy plaza.

  “Angélica!” Pedro shouted again, closer now. She saw him between a poisonous chechém tree and a chaka tree, its healing counterpart. He was across the plaza, striding hell-bent toward the temple where she’d spent the morning working.

  Hours of sitting on the temple floor, recording the glyphs and carvings covering the chamber wall, had made her lower back ache. Her body was starting to protest the long hours on the job and lack of solid sleep night after night. As much as she wanted to find that damned stela, her bed back home was starting to sound like heaven.

  Lunchtime had come and gone while she worked. Normally there was no distracting her from her job, but today the need to stretch her muscles and fill her stomach had driven her to pack up her sketches and rubbings. She’d also wanted to talk to her father and Quint to find out how things had gone at the mine. Then she’d found that trail and gotten distracted.

  “Angélica!”

  She slashed her way into the clearing. “Pedro, over here,” she called, sliding her machete into its sheath before heading toward him. She took off her hat as she walked, brushing a tick off the brim. Beating back the jungle always left her with a few battle scratches and usually a blood-sucking pest or two. She’d have to ask her dad to check her for more later. Better yet, Quint could do an up-close inspection after she showered. The thought of what other up-close fun might follow made her steps lighter.

  Pedro met her halfway across the plaza. He looked over her shoulder for a couple of seconds, scanning the trees. The lines on his tan forehead deepened. “What were you doing in there?”

  “I found an old trail.” She shook off her hat once more and then dropped it back onto her head.

  “A deer trail?”

  She glanced back, unable to tell whence she’d come. The jungle was an ace at playing hide and seek with trails and structures … and people, if they weren’t careful enough to leave breadcrumbs. “I don’t think so. It was too straight. I’m wondering if it leads to more structures, maybe a living complex.”

  He sniffed, and then leaned closer and sniffed again. “Why do you smell like licorice?”

  “There were hojo santas bushes in there.” She took a closer look at his shirt and face. “You’re drenched in sweat. What’s wrong?”

  He pulled the neck of his shirt up to wipe off his face. “Jane was bitten by a rattlesnake.”

  Angélica’s gut clenched. “Is she okay?”

  He nodded. “I rushed her to Teodoro’s tent. She’s resting in there right now. He gave her some antivenin and is keeping her cooled off while it works its magic.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “Over an hour ago.”

  She’d been in the Chakmo’ol Temple chamber, which explained why she hadn’t heard any shouting or commotion. “Where was Jane when she was bitten? Over by the mound?” Were the snakes spreading farther?

  “No. She was at the raised platform over there.” He jutted his chin toward the Chakmo’ol Temple. “I’d sent her over to help Gertrude for a bit while I worked my magic at the mound with the trowel and brush. According to Jane, she wasn’t paying attention and sat down on a rock next to a snake sunning itself.”

  Damn it. Hadn’t Angélica warned the college kids about being careful where they stepped at this end of the site, let alone sat? To keep an eye out for snakes and scorpions always? “So, she scared it.”

  He nodded. “It woke up with a vicious fang-filled yawn.”

  “I’ll go see her.” Angélica started toward the tents.

  “Hold on.” Pedro caught her arm, playing anchor. “You’ve got a tick on your back.” After he plucked it off, he walked next to her. “What led you to that trail in the trees? Something you saw in the Chakmo’ol Temple?”

  “No. I was heading to lunch and decided to take a walk around the western side of the temple for a change and search the jungle’s edge again for looter leftovers. I ran into a deer on the way and spooked it. The thing headed off into the trees in such a straight line that I decided to follow it. Not more than twenty feet into the brush along the trail, I found a big lump of vines and roots with the corner of an altar stone sticking out. Some of the markings were visible even through the lichen on the stone.”

  He snagged her arm again, spinning her around. “Are you telling me you went traipsing into the forest alone?”

  “Yes.” What was with his critical tone? She tugged her arm free, her frown matching his. “What’s the big deal? I wasn’t very deep into the trees, and I had my machete out and swinging.”

  He snorted. “That’s not a very smart move for a woman with all kinds of capital letters after her name.”

  “Yeah, well, I know a pain-in-the-ass helicopter pilot who did it the other day and found a limestone mine.”

  “I also almost fell into that mine.”

  “You wouldn’t have fallen in. There are too many fig roots blocking it.”

  “Maybe so, but if it had been a cenote, I’d have been in trouble.”

  “But it wasn’t a cenote, so that’s a moot point.”

  “A girl like you should know better than to go skipping into the jungle on your own.”

  Girl? Skipping? What the hell had gotten into Pedro? What was with this machismo shit? He hadn’t acted like this since they were kids and his testosterone was taking him for a spin.

  She crossed her arms. “What’s going on here, Pedro? The first time you flew Dad and me to this site, this girl,” she poked her chest, “went skipping off completely alone and you didn’t even think twice about it.”

  “Your father went with you.”

  “That’s not true. First, he followed me after I explicitly told him not to. Second, I was gone at least twenty minutes before he caught up with me.”

  “We knew where you were heading, though. You weren’t running off alone without checking in with someone like you did today.” He grabbed her shoulders, scowling at her. “Angélica, you need to let someone know where you are at all times, especially if you go into the trees. Better yet, take someone with you.”

  She tilted her head, trying to figure out what had him acting so protective all of a sudden. Was this her father’s doing? Quint’s? “We are several weeks into this dig, Pedro. Why is my going into the forest alone in broad daylight suddenly such a concern for you? Has someone been whispering stories in your ear about Xtabay haunting the area? You know that sexy sorceress only waits under the ceiba tree for wayward men to kill with her embrace, not women.”

  “Nobody is whispering anything.” He let go of her, stepping back, his gaze averted. “You need to be more careful going off alone is all.”

  “I went off alone plenty at the last site and there were cenotes all over there, plus other potential dangers. You never worried about me then.”

  “This site is different.”

  “Different how? We’re still in a jungle in Mexico.”

  “There’s more potential for danger. Have you forgotten that we’re in the middle of a huge biosphere reserve? You could easily be someone’s prey.”

  That was true and it was something she’d been aware of earlier with each step. She’d watched for predator markings while exploring the trail, listening for tell-tale signs of a hunter in the area via other animals in between slashing and …

  Wait a second. “Someone’s prey? Don’t you mean something’s prey?”

  “Yes, I meant ‘something.’ English is my second language, rem
ember?”

  Maybe so, but he was very good at that second language. “Pedro, I carry my machete at all times.”

  His focus returned to her. “That might not be enough.”

  Something in his eyes gave her pause, a haunted look she hadn’t seen since the night he’d joined her at the hospital while her mother lay dying. What did he mean? What did he know?

  “Pedro, what’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” His smile came quick, but it didn’t ring true with the rest of his face. “Just do me a favor and think twice about going into the trees alone.”

  “You’re hiding something.”

  “I’m playing big brother, that’s all. I worry about you. Let’s get going. Your father is waiting.” He started toward the tents without looking back to see if she was following.

  She frowned after him. There was definitely something going on that Pedro wasn’t telling her and he was doing a shitty job of hiding it.

  Angélica caught up with him. “Why would you be more worried now than before? Does this have something to do with Mom?”

  His steps quickened. “Marianne? No, of course not.”

  “Pedro!” She had to jog to keep up. “Dammit, what’s going on?”

  “I told you, Jane got bit.”

  She growled under her breath. “You’re purposely playing dumb now.”

  As they passed by the first couple of tents she grabbed the back of his shirt, dragging him to a stop. “Pedro Guillermo Montañero, you tell me right now why you are suddenly so worried about my being alone in the forest.”

  “Gatita.” Her father waved her over from where he stood in front of Teodoro’s tent.

  “Your father is calling.” Pedro tried to tug free, dragging her along behind him.

  “I know.”

  He twisted, trying to shake her grip, pushing at her. “Let go of my shirt.”

  “No.” She latched on tighter, wrapping her arms around his waist as he wrestled to be free of her. “Not until you tell me the truth.”

  Their feet tangled and they both went down, him face first with Angélica landing on top of him. Taking advantage of the moment, she straddled his back and wrenched his arm behind him until he cursed in Spanish.

  He turned his head, glaring up at her from the corner of his eye. “No fair using a move on me that I taught you.”

  “I’ll let you up when you tell me what you know.”

  “¡Dios mio! You are heavy, girl. You need to lay off María’s panuchos.”

  She dug her knuckles into the muscles in his lower back, making him squirm. “Now you’re going to pay before you tell me your secret.”

  “What in the daylights is wrong with you two?” Juan limped over to them, frowning down at them.

  “Your daughter is being a bully,” Pedro said, cursing and writhing under her when she dug her knuckles in again.

  “He won’t tell me why he’s so worried about my being alone in the trees.” She tickled his ribs, making him squawk with laughter. “Spit it out or I’ll make you squeal like a little girl.”

  “Why in the world are you two horsing around at a time like this?” Juan scowled at her. “Gatita, get off Pedro right now or I’ll …” He sighed in exasperation. “Just get off the poor boy. You’re the boss here, remember?”

  With warm cheeks from her dad’s reprimand, she let go, grabbed her hat, and shoved to her feet. “We’re not done with this, Montañero.” One way or another, she was going to find out what had Pedro so skittish about the jungle.

  Pedro rolled onto his back, wrinkling his nose at her.

  “Angélica Mae,” her father said to her in a harsh whisper. “How many times have I told you it’s not fair to wrestle with Pedro? He’s too much of a gentleman to hurt a lady.”

  “What kind of gentleman keeps secrets from a lady?”

  “All sorts.” Juan took her hat and placed it on her head. “Now, have you heard about Jane?”

  She pointed her thumb at Pedro. “This stubborn mule told me.”

  “It takes a mule to know a mule,” Pedro said, standing and dusting off his clothes.

  “Should we send her home?” her father asked.

  “Whether she stays or not is up to her. Is Teodoro inside? I need to talk to him.”

  “About what?”

  “To see if Jane should be flown to the hospital in Chetumal.” Angélica glanced away. “And to plan how to move those snakes today.” She winced inwardly in anticipation of his reaction to that last part.

  “What!” Her father gaped at her as if she was wearing a bunch of said snakes on her head. “You are not going into that den. One snake bite a day is enough, thank you very much.”

  “Dad, I’ll be fine.”

  “We don’t have enough antivenin if you get bit.”

  She turned to Pedro. “Didn’t Teodoro bring back more from Coba the other day?”

  He nodded, but didn’t look happy about his answer.

  “See, Dad. Teodoro is ready for the worst. I’m going in.”

  “I don’t like this.”

  “Well, I don’t love it. Snakes aren’t exactly puppies. Not that I would know that from experience, mind you, since I never got to have a puppy.”

  “Oh, dear Lord!” Juan threw up his hands. “Here we go again about how your mother and I ruined your childhood by not letting you have a dog.”

  Angélica grinned. “Well, it did stunt my mental growth.”

  “Judging from the way you were wrestling around on the ground with Pedro a moment ago like a couple of foolish kids, I’d have to agree with you on that this time.”

  Pedro snickered until she poked him in the ribs again.

  She turned back to her dad. “One snake-bitten college student is all that’s allowed at my dig site. Teodoro has all of the supplies we need to take care of our snake problem. We’re relocating them today.”

  Her father’s nostrils flared. “Fine, but you’re taking Quint and Maverick with you to help.”

  “I can help catch them, too,” Pedro offered.

  “No.” Angélica squeezed his shoulder, knowing how much he grumbled and cringed around snakes. “We need our pilot venom-free in case an emergency flight to the nearest hospital becomes a necessity.” To her father, she ordered, “Round up Quint and Maverick and have them meet me at the mess tent.”

  Without waiting for more arguments from her father, she slipped into Teodoro’s tent. Jane lay on the spare cot they kept in there amongst the shaman’s boxes of medicines and first-aid supplies. Her eyes fluttered open when Angélica approached and kneeled next to her.

  “Hi,” she said feebly.

  “You okay?” Angélica asked, looking down at the bandage wrapped around her leg above her ankle, inspecting Teodoro’s work. He was as meticulous as always.

  “Teodoro says I can go back to work tomorrow.”

  Angélica glanced over at Teodoro, who watched from his perch on a hand-hewn stool. He nodded once at her raised brow.

  “Do you want to, though?” she asked Jane.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Would you rather have Pedro fly you back to Cancun?”

  “And leave the dig?”

  “Yes.”

  “No!” The fervor in the girl’s voice surprised Angélica. “I want to stay here and keep working.”

  “You’re sure? There might be more snakes.”

  “Now that I’ve lived through this bite, I’m not as afraid.”

  Angélica smiled. She’d once come to a similar conclusion. Granted she’d been about eight years old at the time on her dad’s ranch in Tucson, but that first bite was a real life lesson. After that, she was more careful, yet less fearful.

  “Good.” She patted Jane’s arm. “You rest today. Tomorrow, I’ll put you to work in the Baatz’ Temple. There are several walls covered with glyphs in there. I’d like you to copy the glyphs on rice paper using the old-fashioned charcoal rubbing process.” That would keep the girl resting while still on the clo
ck.

  Waving at Teodoro to follow her, Angélica led the way to the mess tent. Quint and Maverick were waiting for her there, along with her father and Pedro.

  “Let me just get something to eat and I’ll be right over,” she told them.

  She grabbed a plate of food that María had held back for her, thanking the older woman. Her voice at a whisper, she asked in Mayan how Rover was doing. María’s eyes flitted to Juan for a second, but Angélica knew her father’s Mayan was rusty even at a normal decibel level.

  After being assured that the troublemaking javelina was behaving for the time being, Angélica grabbed a cup of water and sat down at the table across from Quint and her dad. Pedro and Maverick were on either side of her, while Teodoro stood at the end of the table, his arms crossed. She had a feeling he already knew what was coming.

  Cutting her torta in half, she got right to the point. “Jane was bit this morning by a rattlesnake at the Chakmo’ol Temple. While she’s on the mend thanks to Pedro’s quick thinking and Teodoro’s antivenin, we need to clear out that snake den and relocate its occupants this afternoon.”

  “This is a bad idea,” her father said.

  She pointed the torta she was holding at him. “Opinion duly noted, Dad. While we’re clearing out the snakes, I need you to head over to the ballcourt to check on Esteban and Daisy. Tell Fernando to keep Bernard, Lorenzo, and Gertrude in the Baatz’ Temple and to follow your instructions on the stabilizing work inside. Tomorrow, I’ll have Jane get busy recording the glyphs in the inner chamber where we found the Olmec mask.”

  His lips flatlined. “That’s busy work and you know it.”

  She lowered her sandwich, holding his worried stare. “I don’t want you near the snake den with me, Dad.”

  “Gatita,” he started.

  “I mean it.” She didn’t let him finish. “You’re not as quick-footed since the accident. I’ll be too worried about you getting bit to give the job my full attention, and if I ever needed to stay focused while working, today is that day. I need you to run the dig site for me.”

  Their stare-off lasted through a couple of bites of her sandwich before he gave in with a single nod.

  “Pedro.” She plucked up a piece of chicken that had slipped free of the torta. “You need to go with us but stay back at the temple. You can transport the bags with the snakes by wheelbarrow to the helicopter as we pile them up.” She popped the chicken into her mouth and chewed on the spicy morsel for a few seconds while she tried to think of what else she needed him to do. After she swallowed, she added, “We should probably have the stretcher there in case we have to make a rush to the helicopter. Multiple bites could be deadly even with antivenin on hand.”

 

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