Expectation brightened some faces, but not all. A woman made the sign of the cross. A man planted his feet apart, bracing himself. A young mother clutched her bare-bottomed infant so tightly it began to wail. Other furrowed brows and surreptitious glances toward Kate betrayed the crowd’s fear the earthquake would ravage them and their country at any moment.
Professor Esteban Morales and another man stood before the temple entrance. A slanting sunbeam caught on Doug’s blond hair. He grinned and pointed to the new gray plastic cast covering his leg. He looked pale and drawn but otherwise fine. He’d need strength to face interrogation, and more. As she reached him, she struggled to breathe past the giant boulder in her chest. They managed to embrace with their chairs side by side and she finally could inhale deeply.
Behind him stood a bearded man, every bit as military and muscular as Max, in jungle camouflage. Lucas Del Rio, the man who’d rescued her brother. She thanked him for saving her brother’s life.
“Ma’am, it was a pleasure. Your brother and I made a good team.” The DSF operative looked as ferocious as a bear but a beautiful smile gleamed in the midst of his dark beard.
She couldn’t speak, for the emotion constricting her throat and binding her chest. All she could do was hold Doug’s hand.
“Del Rio here said that bastard Sedgwick was responsible for my tumble off the balcony. I can’t imagine you doing all the stuff Rivera tells me went on in the jungle. You... hell, you crushed it, Katie.” Doug sagged in the chair but then squared his shoulders. “Getting kidnapped was the pits but it got me to K’eq Xlapak. And it made me think. Made me examine my sorry life. I’m ready to face what I did.”
“Something good had to come of all this.” Sniffing back her tears, she hugged him again. “We’ll talk more later.”
She pushed to her feet and found Max on the spot with her crutches. He stepped aside, standing at military attention, his expression set in granite. They’d hurt each other, and the pain of it was too raw, too deep. How could she bear it? She tore her gaze away from him and faced the dark doorway to the temple.
For weeks, she’d anticipated seeing this, but today everything was blurred in a haze of tears and pain. She swayed on her crutches. When Max and then the doctor started forward, she shook her head.
Max stepped aside but remained close, his stern gaze on her as if he was ready to rush forward and support her.
“At last you are here at the temple.” Esteban’s lined features bore an expression of kind concern. “I trust my wife took good care of you.”
“Yes, yes, of course. But what is going on here? Why all the people?” She’d failed in her mission. Were they here to witness her humiliation? She raised her chin.
He indicated the gray-haired Maya beside him, wearing ceremonial garb, a striped bandana and matching sash. “Don Luis, the chief Jaguar Priest, has called us together for a small ceremony. Not the one planned, of course. El Presidente and General Lopez will not attend.”
A ceremony? Really? Or maybe she was still groggy.
The Jaguar Priest nodded solemnly, then spoke in Spanish.
Esteban translated. “I apologize for my assistant’s cruelty and ambition. Jago forced your brother to suffer. He has disgraced the Maya people. We would mete out a harsh punishment, but we understand Jago has committed international crimes and must face justice elsewhere.”
Kate tightened her fingers around the crutch grips. She steadied her good leg, fighting to remain standing. She faced the priest, guessing the sadness in his eyes mirrored hers. True, murderers and thieves prevented her from returning Kizin. But saying so would seem self-serving.
“Don Luis, it is I who must apologize to you and to your people. I promised to return the statue of Kizin to this temple. I failed. Kizin is lost, and Curse Day—”
Don Luis interrupted with a flurry of words.
Esteban held up his hand. “Wait, señorita. Don Luis reminds me you do not know the tremors have lessened. Some of the people are still fearful, but Don Luis believes that this Día Maldito will bring no earthquake. We are hopeful the curse is finished.”
The words whirled in her brain. Could it be true? Or only a temporary reprieve? She glanced at Max, who shrugged and shook his head. Even if real, it didn’t negate her failure to keep her promise.
“That’s amazing, wonderful,” she said, “but Kizin is still lost, gone forever.”
The priest held out his arms as if to encompass the entire plaza full of people. He declaimed loudly, a proclamation that had the Maya villagers cheering.
Esteban translated. “Kizin is not lost, but deposited in the cenote as the gods and our ancestors intended. In ancient times, Maya queens contributed their blood in honor of the gods. Because Señorita Fontaine has given of her blood, the villagers have prepared a feast to honor her as a brave Maya queen.”
Two small girls in embroidered smocks trotted to Kate and handed her bouquets.
Blood roared in her ears, and her heart clattered against her ribs. Had she succeeded after all? The Maya believed Kizin was where it should be. And maybe Doug would straighten out his life. Now she could go back to her normal life.
Without Max.
A shuddering breath rocked her. She could only nod and press her palms together in return thanks.
***
“This poc chuc is damned good. The Maya know how to put on a feast,” Lucas Del Rio said. “But if you don’t want yours, dump it. The mess you made of your food makes me want to puke.” Frowning, he shoveled in another forkful of the char-grilled pork, black beans, and tomatoes.
Max snorted, ready to overturn his plate on his friend’s head. “Fuck off, Del Rio, or go hurl your cookies in the latrine. Your ragging’s a pain in the ass.”
On the other side of the project dining tent, the location of the feast, Kate was listening to her brother. And picking at her food like him. A tossup whether ol’ Dougie was feeding her a line of bull or whether his stay in the thatched hotel had changed his outlook. Not Max’s business. Kate would be outta here soon and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Her transport, an official Costa Verde military helo had landed as they began to eat. Or not eat.
“Ragging ain’t working. Better I haul you into the bush and hammer some sense into you. All you’ve done since we sat down is growl and stare at Kate. What’s up between you two?”
“Nothing’s up,” Max growled. “Enough or I’ll pound you into the jungle floor.” He took a long drink of herbal tea in hopes he wouldn’t have to talk to the Hulk here anymore.
“What’s up now is your temper. Looks to me like something else was up. If I had a thing going with a woman like that, I’d be a coward if I let her fly off without fixing it.” He pulled a chunk of tomato out of his beard before plucking a papaya from the table’s big bowl of fruit.
Max shot to his feet. “And when was the last time you had a “thing” going? Oh, yeah, your ugly mug scares away females and small children. I’m going outside to check in with the boss.” He glimpsed hurt in his friend’s eyes before he turned and stalked out. Shit, that was cruel, but hell, why couldn’t Lucas leave him alone?
He dumped his dishes and crossed the dusty ground to a vegetation-covered mound. His phone in hand, he stared at the stones that formed the base of what Professor Morales had said was the palace. The anticipation of seeing all this had excited him but now he couldn’t rouse much interest.
Damn, he’d never let a woman get to him like this. But Kate wasn’t like any female he’d ever known. Honorable and brave, loyal to a fault. How could he forget all the ways she’d shown her trust in him? Trust he’d betrayed. Slashed all the insight and caring they’d woven around them like liana vines and left them in shreds.
She made him want more. Del Rio was right. If he didn’t try to talk to her, he was a coward, too afraid to hear she didn’t love him back. Like he was abandoning himself. What did Nestor say? “Truth is better than believing the worst.” Kate had told him almost th
e same thing.
“Dammit to hell!” Because of his stubbornness—or cowardice—he could lose the best thing in his life. She’d dared and changed. Could she forgive?
He’d catch her before the helo took off. But he’d put off reporting in too long. He was about to punch in the DSF number when his phone rang.
“You were supposed to check in this morning. What’s up?” Thomas Devlin barked.
“I’ve been sorta busy,” Max drawled. He recited a quick sit rep.
Devlin gave a low whistle. “Good riddance to that pond scum Le Noir. I still don’t have much on Centaur but looks like their honchos know things are FUBAR. So Sedgwick paid for his greed, the bastard. Don’t know what Scotland Yard will do about his black-market loot. They’re searching his place. Got something else. Give me a sec.” The swish of papers being shuffled. “Interesting development that could change things down there. Seismologists in Guatemala and the States are puzzled as to why, but they find no signs of stress or movement along the fault. No earthquake likely this Curse Day.”
Max shook his head. So it wasn’t just the locals being hopeful. “Hard not to believe just a little bit in the power of Kizin.”
“Anything else?”
“Doug Fontaine told us three men abducted him, but one of them stayed behind in D.C. Maybe from Costa Verde but not Maya. Finding him might be tough, but that’s on the FBI.”
“Copy that. How’s Kate doing?”
Max’s gut tightened. “Down about losing the statue but she’ll be okay. Tough like you said.” Tougher than him. “The truth is better...” He was twice a coward if he didn’t follow through on what he’d been thinking.
“You there?”
“Sorry. Got a personal request. You think Research could find out what happened to my mother? It’s been years, so maybe it’s too late, but—”
“Right. I thought you might never ask,” Devlin said gently. “I did that search myself when you came on board DSF. Security issue. Had to be certain she couldn’t cause problems if she came looking for you. You want this now?”
Max hesitated, then nodded, but of course Devlin couldn’t see him. “Affirmative.”
Keys clicked on Devlin’s laptop. “I’m sorry, Max. She’s dead. She died the day she didn’t come back for you.”
The news rocked him like Kizin’s mega earthquake. His vision blurred. After a moment, he managed to make himself speak. “Go on.”
Following the explanation took all his strength. His mother had ridden a city bus and obtained a transfer. She used to do that all the time to find work and to get to work. The police report said her purse contained a flyer about technical training in a suburb of Houston. But the bus stop where she waited for the transfer put her in the middle of a gang war. She was cut down in a drive-by shooting.
“Why didn’t they find her back then?” His legs refused to support him, and he sank onto a stack of numbered building stones.
“Her ID was fake. No address or phone. Could she have been in the States illegally?”
“Possible. I don’t know.”
“Houston Social Services might’ve found her if they’d looked hard enough but most of those organizations are overloaded with work and understaffed. The police kept her effects and a blood sample. They hoped for a blood match if a relative came looking. DNA’s how I found her, with the sample of yours the company has on file.”
“What happened to her... body?”
“She’s buried in a municipal cemetery for John and Jane Does. I can give you the case number and what else you need when you return.”
Max rocked on his hard perch. His throat felt like he’d swallowed the dust at his feet. “Thanks,” he choked out. “Reckon I’ll take care of her.”
“Thought you would.”
He barely listened to the rest of Devlin’s news. All he could think of was telling Kate.
***
“I’ll be right back, Katie,” Doug said, backing up his wheelchair. “Gotta get a couple more of those honey cakes. The bastards fed me okay but no desserts.”
Kate stretched her lips into a smile. Sweets had always been one of Doug’s “treasures.” Treasure was how Centaur had reeled him in. He’d sold them one artifact of shaky provenance, then procured another for them, and another, until he was doing more shady deals for Centaur than legitimate ones for himself. When he finished his story, he heaved a sigh of relief to be free of those leg irons.
He’d committed crimes—international crimes—and might go to prison. Her throat closed up. No, stop it. He’d have the best attorney and her support, but not her guilt. No more. She raised her eyes toward the setting sun. Dad, he’s finally growing up. He’ll make it.
The initial shocks of losing Kizin and hearing Doug’s admission of guilt had blinded her to the truths she’d learned these past weeks of hazards and hardships. The upheaval of her childhood had led to her need for security, leading a life as static as a museum exhibit. And she’d allowed her mom’s fears to become her own. Until now. Wasn’t she capable outside her safe museum, capable in the face of danger and in the jungle? She learned to navigate and survive, didn’t she? And the whole adventure was exciting. So she’d make it too. Except for the emptiness inside.
Movement on the other side of the tent caught her eye. Max. A wave of longing swept through her. She’d forced herself not to look his way, but her excellent peripheral vision tortured her by keeping track of his movements. He was on his feet, phone in hand, glowering at Del Rio. Then he stalked outside. Likely to call Devlin.
Del Rio stood and headed toward the desserts. He’d be leaving with Doug and her on the helicopter, but Max was staying until the runners carrying back the canoe could return with the rest of their equipment.
Intrepid, wonderful, proud Max. Her chest squeezed as if it might crack.
She’d been so wrong, rejecting him, as he believed his mother did. How painful that must be. Betray her trust? How blind and selfish could she be? She’d expected him to choose between loyalty to her and loyalty to Devlin Security Force, to the men he’d served with under fire.
She hadn’t known it, but Max was what she’d been missing in her life. His arms around her that gave her a sense of safety, of belonging. His confidence in her that made her feel good about herself. Their deep connection that felt like physical vibrations in the air between them.
The helicopter would take her away in a few minutes. Her heart pounded so hard it hurt.
Chapter Thirty-One
Max had just ended the phone call when the whirring of helicopter rotors jarred him to alertness.
Kate’s transport. Shit!
He took off at a dead run.
He raced through the project’s compound of tents and burst through the trees into the clearing. No old Huey rust bucket, this was a new military bird. Its rotors deafened him with their powerful whomp, whomp, whomp. Dust devils swirled, blinding him, as the chopper lifted off. The big craft banked and turned before disappearing over the treetops.
Too fucking late. She was gone.
Winded—had to be blood loss, not the adrenaline pumping his heart out of his chest—he propped his hands on his knees. Figuring things out took too fucking long. Pain ripped through him with acid-tipped spurs.
Through the haze, figures emerged. The two Maya carrying Kate’s camp chair and her crutches. And Kate.
She eyed him silently, her face solemn and drawn and so beautiful the sight split him in two.
Blood roared in his ears, and his pulse stumbled. “You... you didn’t leave.” He barely managed to get the words past the pile of sand in his mouth.
Her taxi service set down her deck chair a few feet away. “What with the soldiers, the bad guys, the bodies, Doug’s wheelchair, and his giant chaperon, there wasn’t room for me.” She gave him a shaky smile, and emotion glittered in her eyes. “I couldn’t go. Not until I cleared up some things.”
His brain was sluggish, like it couldn’t dare hope what her words mig
ht mean. He vibrated like a tuning fork. Where was the damn zone when he needed it? He fisted his hands at his sides.
She took the crutches Arturo handed her. Turned to each man in turn, and thanked him. “Yum botic.”
Smiling and bowing, they jogged away.
Kate pushed to her feet and adjusted the crutches. They stared at each other across the dusty ground. A monkey ambled across the clearing. In the branches above, songbirds trilled. He’d take anything as a good omen.
“Max, I was wrong and I’m sorry.” When he opened his mouth, she held up a hand, nearly unbalancing herself on the crutches. He started forward, but she shook her head and held on, upright, her chin lifted. The Maya queen. “I didn’t listen to my own advice about knowing the truth. In my case, I hung onto self-delusion. I see now that didn’t press you about Doug’s criminal involvement because I was afraid of what I’d learn. I’m still going to talk to Thomas about this, but I shouldn’t have put myself between him and you.”
“You deserved to know. You were already hurting bad with worry for Doug and I didn’t want to cause more pain. Reckon it hurt worse finding out the way you did.”
She dismissed that with the lift of one shoulder. “I wouldn’t have believed you. I should’ve caught on to his shady dealings myself. He verified what you said happened in Istanbul. You were right that he’s an adult and should be responsible for his actions.” She drew a shaky breath. “Even if that means prison time.”
“Maybe not much time. Del Rio says your brother has information to trade about Centaur—names and places.”
“That’s a comfort.” Her brow crinkled. “Except Centaur might come after him.”
“No more blinders, huh?” He jabbed fingers through his hair. “Yeah, if the Centaur boss found out, it could be dicey for Doug. I can think of some possibilities, like keeping him an anonymous source. Thomas has connections at the Justice Department.”
“And I know an excellent attorney.” She tilted her head. “I’ve been thinking.”
On Deadly Ground (Devlin Security Force Book 1) Page 28