by Ann Charles
When she’d grown tired of spinning her wheels on why she needed to just have fun with Quint for now and not make any long-term plans, she’d focused on his explanation about Mrs. Hughes. By the time her stomach won the battle of wills and food had lured her out of the temple, she’d come to one solid conclusion—she needed to read through the information Quint had in his tent about Jared. Her ex-husband had been all sorts of an asshole over the years, but she had trouble believing he was a murdering one.
She stopped outside of Quint’s tent, listening. “Parker?” When he didn’t reply, she unzipped the tent flap. “Hello?”
Inside, Rover lay on top of Quint’s cot. He looked over at her without raising his snout from a tin plate littered with the shredded remains of a tortilla.
She squatted in front of the little javelina. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” She took a closer look at the plate of food, noticing the way he’d chewed on the bits of food but not eaten them. “Are you feeling sick today?”
He let out a quiet snort and nuzzled her hand. His skin felt warm but not hot. His stomach wasn’t swollen any more than usual. As she scratched behind his ears he whined, and then flipped over onto his side and flopped his head down on the cot. Eeyore had nothing on the poor guy.
She rubbed his belly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were sad.”
He sighed, blinking several times as he looked at her.
She smiled and scratched under his snout. “As soon as I find that shell, everything will turn around, I promise.”
Heading back out into the sunshine, she zipped the mesh flap closed and frowned over at the Dawn Temple.
“Where are you, Parker?”
* * *
There was something important in the Dawn Temple.
Something to do with that head variants glyph.
Juan had felt it, and now Quint’s gut rallied behind that theory, too.
After Angélica had left him to his own devices earlier this morning, he’d returned—machete in hand. Hours later, between the wheelbarrow and a whole lot of sweat, he’d cleared a path through the rubble over to the wall. There was one barrier left, and one way or another he’d get past it. When he made it back to civilization he planned to tell Juan about what they’d found—together.
He pulled on the huge chunk of limestone that leaned against the block with the head variants glyph on it. The back of the rock lifted slightly, then slipped out of his grip and fell back into the shallow hole between several other large pieces of the ceiling.
Damn it! If he could just get a solid grip on the thing.
The sound of footfalls on the stone floor behind him made him reach for the machete.
“What are you doing in here?” Angélica asked.
He spun around, the machete half-raised, and tripped over a large stone on the floor behind him. He flat-handed the wall while catching himself, making his hand sting like a son of a bitch. “You scared the shit out of me, woman.”
She looked down at his bared chest. “Apparently, I scared the shirt off of you, as well.”
“It’s freaking hot.” He shook the pain from his hand.
“I noticed.” The heat in her eyes when her gaze returned north made him wonder if she were referring to something more than the temperature. “You feeling jumpy, Parker?”
“This place gives me the creeps.” His ego wasn’t too big to admit it either.
“Then why are you in here?”
“Would you believe me if I said I was finishing what your father started?”
She nodded.
Well, that was something. Maybe Juan was right about giving her space and time to calm down and understand the whole search for Dr. Hughes secret. He pointed at the glyph. “See that block with the head variants on it?”
She made her way over the remaining pile, joining him. “You mean this?” She shined her flashlight on it. “The Sun god and Venus in the morning.” At his nod, she asked, “What about it?”
“It’s the exact match of the drawing in the back of Dr. Hughes’ journal.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Your dad told me so. He dragged me in here this morning to show it to me right before …” Quint exhaled loudly, “you know.”
“Yeah, I know. Did Dad say why he thought it was worth bringing you in here?”
“He had a notion that Dr. Hughes might have hidden something in this room, something important to him, and it may be behind this loose block the glyph is on. That’s why Dr. Hughes drew it in the back of his journal.”
“Why didn’t he mention anything to me?” she said, more to herself than him.
Quint answered anyway. “I think he knew you had your mind on that shell.”
“Still …”
“And he was protecting me. He didn’t want to tell you I was looking for Dr. Hughes.”
She shot him a smirk. “A partner in crime. He must like you if he’s joining in your shenanigans.”
“We had a deal.”
“What deal?”
“It was a guy thing.” When she stared, waiting, he added, “It involved freezing our balls off together.”
“Male bonding with my father, Parker? Was this another attempt to get information about Dr. Hughes?”
“Not really.” He shrugged. “I like your dad. He makes me laugh.”
“Yeah.” Her smile had a hint of sadness. “Me, too.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “You’ll see him again soon.” Before he did something stupid like hug her, which would probably land him face down in the dirt again with her sitting sidesaddle on him this time, he squatted down and grabbed the huge stone. “If I can get this damned, over-grown pebble out of the way, we can see if your dad was right.” He grunted as he lifted. His arms started shaking and then his grip slipped and the rock crashed back against the others. “Damn it.”
“You’re scratching the hell out of your skin.” She stepped over and grabbed his sweat-soaked T-shirt, tossing it at him. “Put that on and I’ll make you a deal.”
He shook the shirt, making sure there were no critters on it, and slipped the wet cotton over his head. “I’m all ears,” he said as he pulled it down over his stomach.
“I need your help in the Temple of the Water Witch. I’ll help you move this chunk of ceiling if you help me get that block out of the wall.”
“Okay. Let’s get to work.” He bent down, adjusting his grip on the rock to make room for her.
She joined him, sliding in next to him, placing her hands under the backside of it. Sweat dotted her brow. “Ready.”
He could smell her shampoo. The sweet citrus scent spurred flashes of her all naked and fresh from the shower, hot and ready for a whole different reason.
Shaking off the memory, he focused on the rock in his arms. “On the count of three then.” He adjusted his grip once more. “One, two, three!”
The rock rose out of its bed and hovered on the edge of the stone in front of it.
Crap! His grip was slipping.
Angélica grunted, seeming to double her effort. Finally, the damned rock rolled free, taking Angélica with it.
She stumbled into him. He staggered backward, his heel catching on a rock, and fell, landing flat on his back on the chamber floor. She came down on top of him, elbows first, knocking the wind out of him.
It took him a second to catch his breath. With it came pain throbbing in his right butt cheek thanks to a small rock he’d landed on.
“Are you okay?” Angélica pushed up on her arms, her forehead wrinkled in concern.
“I think so.” He dug the stone out from under him and tossed it aside. “But you were right. You do weigh more than a buck twenty-five.”
Her gaze narrowed.
“And I think your elbow cracked one of my ribs.”
“Keep talking about my weight, and I’m sure it will.”
He grinned. “I’m just messing with you.”
Her eyes lowered to his mouth, then her lips were brus
hing over his, slow and sexy, making his head float clear up to the ceiling. When her tongue touched his, his aches and pains slipped from his mind.
He groaned into her mouth, his body tightening as she moved over him, lighting fires all over the place. His hands spanned her hips and then slid down over her back pockets, squeezing the soft firm flesh under the cotton. God, she was intoxicating, making him crave more and more.
“Quint?” she nuzzled his neck, her hips teasing.
“Hmmmm?”
She looked down at him, her lids half-lowered. “I’m just messing with you,” she whispered. She kissed him once more, hard, and then pulled away, standing over him.
He frowned up at her. “That was just sadistic.”
“That’ll teach you to talk shit about my weight.” She held out her hand. “Come on; let’s see what’s behind that glyph.”
He took her hand, then rubbed his sore right cheek after he made it back on his feet.
Angélica stepped back over to the glyph, squatting down and wiggling the block out several inches. He limped over to her, still working out a few kinks.
She looked up at him as he kneeled next to her, excitement lighting her eyes. “It’s almost free.”
“Let’s get it out of there then.” He grabbed it by the bottom corners and helped her pull the block out the rest of the way. Together they set it down carefully on the temple floor.
She shined her flashlight into the hole.
“Do you see anything?”
“It looks empty. Here, hold this.” She handed him the light and then reached into the hole.
“Do you think that’s wise? What if you touch something …” he grimaced, “something alive?”
She glanced down at his pants, her smile quick to surface. “I’ve touched something much more dangerous and very alive in the last twenty-four hours. I’m not too worried about a hole in a wall.”
“You have a sassy mouth, Dr. García.”
“Maybe so.” She shifted so she could reach deeper. “But you seem to like it.”
Like? That didn’t touch the truth. It was the star of many of his fantasies.
“What’s this?” She frowned, leaning her head against the wall as she shoved her arm in up to her shoulder. “I think there’s something way back here.”
Juan had been spot on after all. “What is it?”
“It’s a …” She gasped, her eyes opening wide. “Oh, God!” she cried. “It’s got me! It’s got me!” She struggled to pull her arm free.
Quint didn’t think, he acted, scrambling behind her, tugging her backwards. She fell into him with little resistance sending him flying back into a jagged rock. Pain shot through his shoulder, rendering him immobile for a drumroll of heartbeats.
Angélica turned in his arms, her laughter filling the chamber.
He slowly sat upright. “You are an evil woman.” Rolling his shoulder around to try and get blood to his bruised muscles, he gave her the stink eye. “I hope you’re happy. I think I’m bleeding.”
Her laughter dried up. “Are you really? Let me see.” She grabbed his arm, gently turning him around. “I’m sorry, Quint. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt, but I couldn’t resist. Dad played that trick on Pedro two years ago in the Owl Temple, and Pedro still curses him in between laughs.”
“I’ll accept your apology only after you kiss me better.” Quint held still while she lifted his shirt and inspected his back. “Any blood?” Something was sure burning in the middle near his upper spine.
She ran her hands over his skin and then poked him in the sore spot with her fingertip.
“Ow!” He aimed a glare at her over his shoulder. “What did you do that for?”
“It’s a bruise.”
“No shit. Is it bad? How big is it?”
She dropped his shirt and scooted around him, holding up her pinkie in front of his face. “The size of my fingertip.” A small grin resurfaced. “Good news. It looks like you’ll live.”
“No thanks to you, Dr. Jekyll.” He stretched his shoulder some more.
“Yeah, yeah, you big baby. Now go over there, stick your arm into that hole, and pull out whatever it is that’s back there. I can brush my fingers over it, but it’s out of my reach.”
Quint did a double take. Was she serious? She stared back at him, nudging her head toward the hole. “Hurry up, Parker. We don’t have all day.”
“Okay, boss lady. But you were supposed to kiss my shoulder better,” he reminded her.
“I kissed you less than ten minutes ago.” She followed, kneeling next to him. “How many kisses do you need in one sitting?”
“I don’t know.” He shoved his arm deep into the wall, grasping what felt like a small, hard box. The top was smooth to the touch. “We should spend a few hours figuring that out some night.”
He drew the box out carefully, wincing when he lightly bumped it on the wall before he cleared the hole.
Angélica shined the flashlight on it, her eyes widening. “What the … ?”
Quint was having trouble believing it himself. “You’re kidding me.”
She took the rectangular plastic box from him, flipping it over, reading the word on the bottom. “Tupperware?”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Well, Dr. García, you think they’ll use radiocarbon dating on this piece?”
* * *
Angélica led the way into the Temple of the Water Witch in the late afternoon sunshine.
After they’d opened the Tupperware and taken stock of its contents, or more like scratched their heads about them, they’d headed back to the mess tent so Quint could get a bite to eat while they played Sherlock and Watson a while longer.
Before following her to fulfill his end of the deal, Quint had run back to his tent to grab a clean shirt and the two short two-by-fours he’d picked up behind the Dawn Temple.
He’d paused outside the entrance to the Water Witch, cursing at temples in general, and then joined her inside.
“I still don’t know what to make of those photos.” Angélica said as she climbed down the second ladder on the way to the sub chamber.
For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why Dr. Hughes would store two Polaroids and an article in a piece of Tupperware in the temple wall.
“It must have something to do with the Dawn Temple, maybe a clue.”
She waited for him to climb down the ladder. “A clue to what?”
He waved off her offer to take the two boards from him. “I don’t know. Something else he hid in there.”
Had Dr. Hughes found some relic worth hiding? If so, hide it from whom?
“They’re standing in front of the temple in the first picture,” Quint said, stepping off the bottom rung. “And the second one shows part of the temple’s blueprint.”
“What about the article?”
“I have no idea how that ties in. You’re sure you’ve never heard of the woman in it?”
“Positive. If this Dr. Sutcliffe worked at the same university as Dr. Hughes, maybe he had a thing for her.”
“Maybe, but I don’t think so. He seemed very taken with Mrs. Hughes whenever I was around them. My mom and dad were having some problems when I first met Jeff. I remember wishing my parents were more like them—nice to each other, even doting at times.”
Angélica paused beside the chamber’s outer wall and looked back at him. “You said Jared went to the same college where Dr. Hughes taught.”
“Yeah, he was a grad student there.”
“Do you think he’s somehow linked to this stuff Dr. Hughes hid away?”
“Possibly. He is in that one photo.” Quint rubbed his hand over his stubble-covered jaw, making a scratchy sound. “The only thing I am certain of is that your ex-husband is not to be trusted, especially around you.”
She smirked up at him at that last part.
“What? I’m not saying that just because I like it when you kiss me.” He winked. “Not entirely anyway.”
“
You’re such a flirt.” She dropped onto her stomach and slid through the hole at the base of the outer wall.
“I’m not flirting,” he said after he shoved the boards through the hole and squeezed in after them, taking the hand she offered. “I’m being honest.”
She watched him dust off his clothes, warming to this honesty policy a little too much for her heart’s health.
“I’d like to take another look at the stuff you have from Mrs. Hughes,” she said. “Out of curiosity.”
Quint nodded, looking over at the loose block. “Anytime, boss lady.”
“Thanks. Now come play tug-o-war with me.” She crossed the room, picked up the rope, and wrapped it around her hand. “Cross your fingers the shell is on the other side.”
Quint stepped in front of her, dropping the boards next to the loosened block. “What if it’s not?”
“Let’s not go there.”
He took up the rope, getting a grip on it.
“On three then, ready?” She grasped the rope tightly in her hands as she planted her feet on the chamber floor.
Quint nodded.
On the count of three, she dug her feet in and pulled. In front of her, Quint’s arms glistened in the lamplight as his triceps bulged. The block scraped slowly across the chiseled-out floor.
Bending his knees, he put his back into it, grunting.
Her feet began to slide out from under her. Then the rope went lax in her hand and she reeled into the wall behind her.
As the dust settled, she frowned down at where Quint was lying completely still within three feet of the wall with the rope wrapped around his hand as he stared up at the blocks towering over him. Small pebble-like pieces of limestone sprinkled down around him.
A rumbling sound started low and grew louder.
Angélica took a step toward him. “Quint, move!”
“Get back!” he ordered without looking at her.
As she watched, her hand covering her mouth in alarm, he rolled onto all fours and grabbed the two short boards. Diving for the weakened wall, he shoved the boards into the spot where the block had been, pounding one under the other to jack it up.