Honeymoon for One

by Beth Orsoff

  “I still don’t understand how Ernesto could’ve escaped,” Jane said.

  “All he’d have to do is make it to the ocean,” Jack replied. “The water would loosen the rope and then he’d be able to maneuver out of the tape.”

  “Well thanks for mentioning that sooner, MacGyver.”

  “I would’ve if you’d told me you were planning on leaving him here alone!”

  “Okay guys,” I said. “This isn’t helping.”

  Jane folded her arms across her chest and Jack buried his head deeper into the pillow. He looked like he might fall asleep again, so I poked him in the chest.

  “Ow!”

  “Stop being such a baby.”

  “I’ve been beaten, robbed, and left for dead. I think I’ve earned a little TLC.”

  “You were robbed?” Jane asked.

  “Yeah, they took the boat.”

  “Then how are we going to get out of here?”

  A good question that none of us had focused on until now.

  “You still have your cell phone, don’t you?” Jack asked.

  “Yes,” I answered for her, “but the person we were going to call was you.”

  Jane sat up. “We can still call John and Cheryl.”

  “What good with that do when we don’t have the head?” They’d made it pretty clear at our last meeting that my freedom was in exchange for the jade piece.

  “We don’t know for sure the head’s not in the drug house,” Jane said. “And even if it’s not, the rest of it should be enough to get you off the hook. Besides, they already signed the deal.”

  “But there are men with guns in the drug house.”

  “I’m sure John and Cheryl have guns too.”

  “I didn’t notice any when they met us on the beach.”

  “They probably left them back in the boat,” Jane said. “You can’t be a cop without a gun.”

  That much was true. At least on television.

  “If we’re going to do this,” Jack piped in, “we should do it soon,”

  “Why?” I asked. “Is your head hurting again?”

  “He could have a concussion,” Jane said. “Maybe we should take him to the hospital.”

  “I don’t have a concussion,” Jack said, sitting up. “I just don’t think it’s safe for us to spend another night here. Too many people know where to find us.”

  “Do you think Ernesto would come back for us?” Jane asked.

  “I don’t know,” Jack said. “But I’d rather not find out.”

  I didn’t want to send Jane searching for a signal by herself, and I didn’t want to leave Jack alone, so the three of us plus Fred traipsed down the beach towards the marine reserve. By the time we reached the rocks, Jack was so worn out, he didn’t think he could make the climb. So I stayed behind with him and Fred, while Jane scrambled to the top herself.

  “With any luck,” I said, joining Jack and Fred in the sand, “this will all be over in a couple of hours.”

  “Then you get to go back to L.A. and forget all about me and Fred.”

  I reached for Jack’s hand. “How can you even think that? You know I’d never forget about Fred.”

  “Thanks Lizzie.”

  He looked so cute with his hair in his eyes and Fred by his side that I just had to kiss him. It was a long, slow delicious kiss that probably would’ve ended in clothes being ripped off each other’s bodies if Jane hadn’t returned.

  “Will you two get a room already!”

  I didn’t even bother trying to explain. “What did they say?”

  “They weren’t in,” she said. “I had to leave a message.”

  I groaned. “Now what?”

  “I guess we try again later.”

  I gave Jack a hand up and we all trudged back to the turtle camp (except Fred, who I carried). The shrimp I’d been feeding him must’ve been doing some good because he looked like he’d grown. He was now slightly larger than my palm, although he still fit easily in one hand.

  We smelled the smoke before we could see where it was coming from. As soon as Jack spotted the flames, he started to run. By the time Jane and I caught up to him, it was obvious there wouldn’t be much left. The staked off area at the front of the turtle camp was still intact, but the two room cabin behind it was engulfed in flames.

  Chapter 58

  “WHAT SHOULD WE DO?” I yelled.

  “I’ll go call the fire department.” Jane said, but Jack shook his head. “It’s too late.”

  “But we have to do something. We can’t just sit here and watch it burn.”

  His arms remained at his sides, but he’d balled both hands into fists. “We’re going to,” Jack said through clenched teeth. “We’re going to find out who did this so I can kill him.”

  “You don’t mean that. You’re just angry.”

  “Yes, I’m angry. Someone just burned down my house.”

  Technically, it wasn’t his house, but I decided not to point that out to him.

  “Go back to the rocks and call the fire department. Anonymously,” Jack added, as if we would’ve done it any other way. “Then wait for John and Cheryl to call you back.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll stay here and wait for the firemen. They’ll have a lot of questions, and you two shouldn’t be here when they arrive.”

  “Will you call us later?”

  “I’ll call when I can,” he said. “Now go before it gets dark.”

  Reluctantly, Jane and I left Jack alone at the burning cabin while we hurried back to the rocks with Fred. As soon as she got a signal, Jane called the fire department but they already knew. Other people must’ve smelled the smoke too.

  Jane tried John and Cheryl again, but they still weren’t in, so we sat back on the rocks and watched the smoke rise as the Caribbean sun set.

  “I could use a drink,” Jane said.

  “Yeah, and a place to sleep tonight might be nice.”

  “And maybe a cell phone charger,” she added.

  “Shit! Now the batteries are dead?”

  “Not yet, but we’re down to one bar.”

  The batteries lasted another hour—long enough for John and Cheryl to call us back. Jane arranged for them to pick us up at the rocks. The moon was a sliver, and the area had no lights, so we had to scream and waive Jane’s keychain flashlight in the dark for ten minutes before they found us. John helped us onto the boat and offered us water. Cheryl just wanted to know if we’d brought the head.

  “No,” Jane said. “But we know where it is.”

  “Where?” Cheryl asked.

  “Somewhere very safe, but it’s being guarded by a couple of men with guns, so you’re going to need back up.”

  We couldn’t see their expressions in the dark, but their hesitation was palpable.

  “Don’t you have any backup?” Jane asked.

  “We told you,” Cheryl said, “we’re undercover.”

  “Trust me,” I said. “You’re not going to want to go in there alone.”

  “Where is this place?” John asked.

  “On the island,” I told him, “but in a very secluded spot.”

  “Who’s guarding it?” he asked.

  “Bad guys with guns. I didn’t catch their names.”

  “And you know they have it? You’ve seen it?”

  “Yes,” I lied.

  “What did it look like?” Cheryl asked.

  “It looked like a jade head,” Jane said. “Do we have a deal or not?”

  “Yes,” John said. “We have a deal.”

  “John, we should go back to the hotel and call headquarters,” Cheryl said. “Then we can get all the supplies we need to go back in the morning.”

  “Good idea,” John said, and started the engine.

  “It’s more than just the head,” I told them. “There’s pottery and cocaine too. I really think you’re going to want to bring more people with you.”

  “Understood,” John said.

  �
�Lizzie should get a reward out of all this,” Jane suggested, “since she’s giving you more than just the head.”

  Cheryl let out a laugh. “We’ll see what we can do.”

  John and Cheryl brought us back to their hotel on Parrot Caye. John told Cheryl to take me and Jane to their room, while he tried to find us a place to sleep. The suites at the White Sands were nicer than the Blue Bay, but still not as fancy as Jane’s private villa at the Tradewinds. But after the turtle camp, any hotel looked good.

  I was surprised to see that the room contained only one bed. “I guess it’s easier to go undercover as newlyweds when you really are a couple?”

  “Excuse me,” Cheryl said, then realized what I was implying and said, “yes, it does.”

  “What are you going to do when the baby’s born?”

  “I don’t know yet,” she said, and flopped down on the couch.

  The door opened and we all looked up. “The hotel’s full,” John said, “so I got us a rollaway. You two can flip for it. Loser can sleep on the couch.”

  “Can I speak to you for a minute,” Cheryl said, then grabbed John’s hand and practically dragged him into the bathroom. We tried to listen in, but Cheryl turned on the fan so we couldn’t hear.

  When they emerged a few minutes later and John said, “On second thought, we’d like you two to have the bed. Cheryl will sleep on the rollaway and I’ll take the couch.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  Jane punched me in the arm. “Of course they’re sure. They wouldn’t have offered if they weren’t.”

  “Is anyone hungry?” John asked.

  “Starving,” Jane replied.

  John tossed her the room service menu. “No lobster. The federal government can’t afford it.” Then he told Cheryl he was going to call headquarters and he left the three of us alone in the room.

  “Would you mind if I left my turtle in the bathroom sink?”

  “Where did you pick him up?” Cheryl asked as I pulled Fred out of Jane’s messenger bag.

  “He belongs to a friend. I’m just babysitting.”

  She shrugged her shoulders, which I took as a yes, and I filled the sink with water. When I returned to the main room, Jane and Cheryl were both sitting on the couch watching TV.

  “It’s so good to be back in civilization,” Jane smiled and stretched her arms overhead.

  “Where have you been staying?” Cheryl asked. “And how did you manage to get out of jail?” Cheryl directed at me.

  “Where there’s a will there’s a way,” I told her and smiled. I was afraid anything I might say would implicate Jack.

  That’s how we spent the next few hours—watching television and avoiding each other’s questions. Every time John or Cheryl asked us where we’d been, how I’d escaped, or how we’d managed to find the head, Jane and I deflected. And every time we asked them about the DEA and their undercover work, they changed the subject.

  When Jane asked to see their badges and guns, John decided it was time for us all to go to bed. Despite the new surroundings and my concern for Jack, my exhaustion won out. When I awoke at six the next morning, John was already on the phone with room service ordering breakfast.

  After we showered, Jane wanted to go to the gift shop for some clean clothes, but it didn’t open for another two hours and John refused to wait. He tossed us each a clean polo shirt and promised he’d buy us both a new outfit after we’d recovered the head.

  “Meet me at the dock in an hour,” he said, then left Cheryl in charge while he went to rent another boat. The Today Show droned on in the background while we all flipped through Cheryl’s paltry selection of magazines. Except for one In Style, which Jane snagged before I could, it was all Archeologist Digest and Antiquities Monthly.

  It was in the spring issue that I finally learned the secret of the jade head.

  Chapter 59

  HIS NAME WAS KINICH Ahau, the Mayan sun god. Back in 1968, a six-inch-tall jade carving of his head was discovered in a Mayan temple at Altun Ha, an archeological excavation site in Belize. To date, he is the largest jade artifact ever recovered from a Mayan archeological site.

  According to Antiquities Monthly, the important phrase is ‘to date.’ Rumors have circulated for years about the existence of a second jade head—a carving of the Mayan rain god known as Chac—as yet undiscovered. But in recent months, the rumors had escalated.

  The article’s author cited an anonymous source for her claim that a carving of Chac was unearthed by local villagers near the ancient city of Tikal, in Guatemala, just across the border from Belize. Neither the Guatemalan authorities nor the Belize government would confirm the rumor, but a Belizian official from the Ministry of Archaelogy was quoted as saying “The only known jade head is the carving of Kinich Ahau. If a carving of Chac was discovered in this country, it would be in the custody of the Ministry.”

  The author concluded that until Chac appears in a museum, or more likely, in the booming underground market for looted antiquities, the rumors will undoubtedly persist.

  “Cheryl, if the head I found is really Chac, how much do you think it’s worth?”

  “Why? Are you planning on selling it?”

  “Of course not. I just thought if it was really valuable the Belize government might give me a reward. I have lawyer’s fees to pay, you know. Not to mention being out of work for three weeks.”

  “An archeologist would tell you it’s priceless,” she said. “But if it went up for auction tomorrow, it would go for millions.”

  People had killed for a lot less than that.

  The phone rang and Cheryl told us to gather our things, which meant two dirty shirts, Jane’s purse, and Fred. When we arrived at the dock, John was already waiting.

  “Where to, Lizzie?” he asked when we’d all climbed aboard the rented fishing boat.

  “Same place as yesterday,” I said. “From there we’ll have to walk.” I still hadn’t figured out what I’d do if the jade head wasn’t there. I was just praying that it would be or if not, that the rest of the loot would be enough for them.

  John consulted his map, then called someone on his cell. After he read off the coordinates, he said “in walking distance,” before hanging up.

  John piloted the boat as close to shore as he could without running aground and the four of us sloshed up to the beach. When we reached dry land, John unzipped his back pack and pulled out two guns. He tucked one in his waist band and handed the other to Cheryl.

  “What about us?” Jane asked.

  “Stay close and try not to get shot,” he said. “Where to, Lizzie?”

  I pointed to the path that led through the jungle. “It’s not far. Maybe a quarter mile.”

  “Lead the way.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better if I stayed behind with Jane? Someone’s got to wait for backup and show them where it is.”

  John smiled. Then he pointed the gun in my direction and said, “Let’s go.”

  “Don’t worry,” Cheryl said, “I’ve got your back.”

  That’s what I was afraid of.

  I led the four of us to the spot where Jane and I had first heard the music, but there was no music today. John made some hand signals and Jane headed towards the front door while John crept around to the window. Neither of them told me or Jane where to go, so I pulled her with me behind a large tree.

  At first John peered in the window from the side, then he slid underneath and stared in from the other side. Finally he led with his gun and stood up. Then he turned back to me.

  “What the fuck is this?” he yelled.

  “What?” I mouthed. I didn’t want the men on the inside to hear us and couldn’t understand why he was so unconcerned.

  He came over and grabbed my arm and dragged me back to the window.

  I couldn’t believe my eyes. The place was empty. No drugs, no pottery, and definitely no jade head. Even the folding table and chairs were gone.

  “I swear it was here yesterday.”r />
  John put the gun to the side of my head. “Where is it?”

  I instinctively raised my hands in the air. “Please John, I swear, I don’t know what happened.”

  Cheryl and Jane both came running towards us, Cheryl calmly saying, “Not this way, John,” and Jane screaming, “Let her go!”

  “Who else did you tell?” he asked, his hand steady while he pushed the cool metal barrel even harder against my head.

  My heart was pounding so hard and so loud it felt as if it were literally going to burst out of my chest. If John didn’t kill me, I’d surely die from a heart attack anyway. I didn’t see my life flashing before my eyes, but I did wish for two things: I wanted to call my parents to say goodbye and I wanted to have sex again, preferably with Jack.

  As if reading my mind, Jane said, “Lizzie, what about Jack?”

  “Who’s Jack?” John demanded.

  “You met him,” I said, trying to turn my head to face him, but I couldn’t because of the gun. “He was the scuba instructor at the Blue Bay. He drove us all home from the disco the night Michael was killed.”

  “He’s involved in this too?” Cheryl asked.

  “He’s been helping us. But he didn’t take the head.”

  “Where is he?” John demanded.

  The gun made a clicking sound and my heart nearly jumped out of my chest. “I don’t know. His house burned down yesterday and we haven’t seen him since.”

  John finally moved the gun away from my head, but it was still in his hand. “Watch her,” he said to Cheryl, then walked a few feet away and opened his cell. “Mother fucker!” he yelled before throwing the phone at a tree.

  “What?” Cheryl said.

  “No signal.”

  Cheryl fished the phone out of the underbrush. “I’ll go to the beach and see if I can get one. You wait here with these two.”

  “No,” he said, “we all go.”

  The four of us walked single file back to the beach with John in front, Jane and I in the middle, and Cheryl in the rear. When we reached the sand, John pulled two sets of handcuffs out of his back pack and cuffed both Jane and I with our hands behind our backs.