The Jaguar Queen

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The Jaguar Queen Page 5

by Betsey Kulakowski


  “Well, this investigation may have just taken an interesting turn.” Jean-René arched a brow. “Did anyone file a missing person’s report lately?”

  Chapter 5

  Lauren sat on the beach watching the last rays of the sun stretching over the ocean. It gave the sand a golden glow and made the waves sparkle as the water lapped at her toes. She missed Rowan, even though she got a lot of work done; for what little good it did. She could do research all day. Until Rowan returned with video in the can, and evidence to be analyzed she couldn’t know what might be important. So she’d taken copious notes and logged the website sources. She documented everything so when she came back to it, she’d have the data.

  It was going to be an awfully long few weeks with him gone. She had plenty to keep her busy. She had to update their website and record a podcast. She needed to work on an article for the Exploration Channel’s magazine. It was due by Friday. She sat running through her mental list of other things she could do and what busy work she could find to occupy herself while he was gone. It wasn’t going to be easy.

  It was completely dark when she got back to the house. She’d stopped and picked up a pizza. She should have gotten a smaller one, she decided. Rowan usually ate most of it. She put a couple slices on a plate and poured herself a glass of iced tea. Carrying her meal into the living room, she turned on the television and sat back to eat. After flipping channels, she stopped on the local news. With all the interest in the upcoming winter solstice and the so-called Apocalypse, the national news stations had been carrying coverage on the upcoming event.

  “In Crime Watch this evening, we’re following reports of a violent attack against tourists in Mexico at the ancient site of Chichén Itzá. Just days before the winter solstice, a researcher was found dead on a rural road in the jungle near the ancient Maya site. While officials have not identified the victim, they did release a statement saying the victim had been shot in the head execution style. Mexican officials cite increasing violence in the area as local drug lords grow more powerful.”

  Lauren realized she was holding her breath when the phone beside her rang. She scrambled to grab it, nearly dropping it. “Lauren, what are you doing?” It was Bahati. Her voice sounded panicked.

  “I’m watching the news,” she said.

  “Dammit,” Bahati said away from the phone. “You saw it.”

  “Yeah, I saw it.” Lauren snapped. “Was it our team?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I tried calling on the sat-phone, but I didn’t get an answer.”

  “Who else could it be?”

  “A hundred other teams, Lauren,” Bahati said curtly. “With all the hype over the upcoming solstice, scientists and television crews have to be flocking in from all over the world.”

  “Yes, but they said a researcher was killed.”

  “That doesn’t mean it was one of our researchers,” Bahati said. “Now turn off the television and go to bed. I’ll let you know the minute I hear from them.”

  Lauren hung up the phone, flinging it into the corner of the sofa. She wrapped her arms around herself, as her brow drew tightly over her dark eyes, trying to figure out how worried to be, and what to do about it. She knew Bahati was probably right, but that glimmer of doubt was practically paralyzing. It was worse knowing she couldn’t do a damned thing to help Rowan and his team. Not a damned thing.

  She spent a second sleepless night fretting about what she couldn’t do. She couldn’t find a house, and she couldn’t help Rowan. She hated not having control. She paced the floors, noticing the mirror in the bathroom had spatters of toothpaste above the sink. That’s when the housekeeping began in earnest and she spent the entire night scrubbing the townhouse from top to bottom.

  * * *

  Bahati was waiting for her when Lauren blew in, looking even more disheveled than she had the day before. Her hair had been combed into a messy braid, with wisps escaping to frame her face. The dark circles under her eyes were more pronounced, and she looked like she was about to drop. The heaviness of her growing belly seemed to weigh her down; the worry curved in her shoulders.

  “Seriously, woman.” Bahati started to chide her, but Lauren held up a hand as she passed without saying a word. She dropped her purse in the corner and headed straight for the coffee service in the main conference room. She poured a large quantity of cream into a cup before topping it off with coffee. She took a few sips, to test the temperature, then promptly took a long drink, swallowing repeatedly as she tipped the cup back. She picked up the carafe and filled the cup again.

  “I talked to Rowan this morning,” she finally said. “They’re fine. It wasn’t them.”

  “See, I told you.” Bahati crossed her arms.

  “He called to ask me to help them with some research,” she said. “There’s a lot to do. I told him I’d call him back if I found anything.”

  “So tell me what we’re working on. I’ll help.”

  “Bring your laptop. I’ll get my iPad. We can work in here today.”

  * * *

  Lauren told her everything about the Jaguar Queen, and the glyph that looked like a parachute. She also told Bahati their theory about ancient Maya being time travelers.

  “Missing persons’ reports?” Bahati’s nose twitched. “From how far back?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “When was the parachute invented?”

  “Leonardo DaVinci’s idea, right?”

  “Seriously?” Lauren asked. “That would have been back in the 15th century.”

  Bahati went to the internet. “According to Wikipedia, that would have been 1485. But early parachutes may go back as far as 4,000 years.”

  “What?”

  “The ancient Chinese noticed that air resistance would slow a person's fall from a height. There was a story I read about a Chinese emperor who ran away from his villainous father by climbing onto the top of a high building. When there was nowhere to go, he grabbed two bamboo hats and jumped off. He landed safely.”

  “Must have been two very large hats.” Lauren snickered.

  “More likely an exaggeration, if you ask me.” Bahati agreed.

  “No more so than ancient Maya being time travelers, though. Right?”

  Bahati ran her hand over her cropped hair, as she let out a deep breath. “I think we’ve been doing this too long. I find it easier to believe in time travel than I do jumping off a building with a hat for a parachute.”

  “Physics and gravity are proven concepts,” she said. “You have felt the effects of gravity before, ergo your brain recognizes it, and the concept is accepted. Time travel remains ... to date ... little more than science fiction.”

  “That makes sense,” Bahati said.

  “So. What about the modern parachute?” She pulled up her phone and held it out for Bahati to see. “Something like that?”

  It was a picture of the hieroglyph Rowan had sent. Bahati studied the picture then turned back to her computer, scrolling down. Lauren zoomed in on the picture. As she studied it, something almost magical was triggered in her brain. She recognized the language within the picture. Each dot and swirl was one of two things. It was either a logogram that expressed meaning, or a syllabogram denoting sound values. She focused on the parachute, zooming back out. The words came to her in the same fashion the Cherokee language had found her in Washington State. It said Sky god. Was that what the Maya meant? She noticed the glyph beneath it on the right side of a double column and realized the two were connected. Sky god woman. She shook her head as Bahati pointed at her computer screen.

  “Okay, so it looks like the more modern parachute came into being in the late 1700s, and continued to be improved upon through World War I. This one in the glyph,” Bahati said. “It kind of looks like the traditional jellyfish-style chute.”

  Lauren shook off the odd sensation that had washed over her. “So anything after the late 1700s? Well, that ought to narrow things down a bit.” Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on her cow
orker. “Planes didn’t come around until the more modern era, so if someone jumped out of an airplane ...”

  “Or if a plane went down,” Bahati said.

  “Plane crashes,” they said in unison. Lauren returned her attention to her iPad. Each took their own approach to searches on the internet.

  “How close to Chichén Itzá do you think we need to look?”

  “I don’t know.” Lauren chewed on her lip. “Why?”

  “There was a passenger plane that went down in 2006 about 125 miles north of there,” Bahati said. “Twelve Americans, four Canadians and a crew of three. It took off from Playa Del Carmen. No survivors.”

  “But everyone was accounted for?”

  “Yes,” Bahati shook her head, moving on. “Never mind.”

  * * *

  “Well at least it made the day go fast,” Bahati said as they headed toward the elevator.

  “And we still have something to work on tomorrow.” Lauren stretched her back. “I don’t feel like we accomplished anything.”

  “Well, maybe tomorrow then,” Bahati said. “Try to get some sleep tonight, okay?”

  “I’ll try,” Lauren said.

  Chapter 6

  The awakening of the ancient Mayan language and the mystery of possible time travelers had Lauren in a tizzy. She wanted very badly to spend the entire evening studying the Maya glyphs. She knew it was a rabbit trail. Like looking for a house. It would keep her up all night — again. Instead, Lauren decided a long walk on the beach would tire her out. It did, but it didn’t help her sleep. She had calf cramps and her back ached. So, at midnight, she got up and made a cup of tea, and took it to the bathtub for a long soak.

  Despite her best efforts, she spent another night searching the web and studying glyphs. With only a few hours of restless sleep, she was back at the office before sunrise. She even stopped and picked up breakfast for them on her way in. She had her work spread out over the conference table when Bahati came in. She had her laptop, iPad and a plate filled with food in front of her. She was wolfing down a bagel slathered with cream cheese.

  “Still no sleep?” Bahati knew her too well.

  “No, but lots of work,” Lauren said, her mouth full.

  “You’re going to be sorry when that baby gets here,” Bahati said. “You’ll never get any sleep then.”

  “I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”

  “Uh huh,” she said. “Are we working in here today again?”

  Lauren nodded.

  “Let me go get my laptop. I’ll be right there.”

  Lauren was deeply engrossed in what she was doing. So much so that she never heard the head of the Network knock at the door. “Excuse me?”

  She nearly came out of her skin. Lauren let out a yelp so resounding that he jumped too. “I’m sorry, Jacob.” She clutched her hand to her chest, panting.

  He seemed to recover quickly. “I stopped in to see how you were doing.”

  He wasn’t much older than Rowan, but his hair was full white, and his eyes were as blue as ice. He cut a striking figure. He stood out in Southern California, but he was handsome, she had to admit.

  “I’m doing fine,” she said. “Rowan called this morning and asked me to do some research for him.”

  “I take it the team is doing well?”

  “Aside from a little car trouble and missing their rendezvous with the professor in Mexico City, they’re doing great.” She intentionally didn’t mention the news story.

  “That’s good,” he said. “After our difficulties last season, I must say I’m impressed at how well this season is going.”

  Lauren sat back in her chair. She forced her expression to remain passive, even though she blamed Jacob for sending Rowan off without her. He knew they didn’t want to work, and he’d come up with a project he knew they couldn’t refuse. “Impressed, or surprised?” She hadn’t meant to say it out loud. He pulled out a chair and sat down across from her, snickering. At least it amused him.

  “A little of both, I’m sure.” He chortled. “I was hoping I could have this conversation with you and Rowan both, but ... oh well.” Suddenly he was serious. Here it came. The tight budget speech. “I’ve been approached by one of our sister channels about doing a new show.”

  “A new show?” That wasn’t at all what she was expecting. “Which channel?” She didn’t want anything to do with the Science Channel at the moment.

  “It’d be on Escape,” he said. That was the network’s travel channel. “It wouldn’t be much different than the program you do now, except it would have more of a travel theme.”

  Lauren’s brow narrowed. “That’s what we do now. How would this new show be any different?”

  “Lauren, did you know, 41% of Americans let their paid vacation days go to waste?” Jacob asked. “I should point out, that you and Rowan are among that statistic.”

  Lauren considered him for a moment. She wanted to shove it down his throat that they were trying to take a vacation now, but he’d insisted on this whole crazy Maya-thing. She bit her tongue, but did say, “We travel for a living. Why would we need to take a vacation?”

  “Granted, you and Rowan are different,” he said. “In more ways than one.” He snickered. Lauren didn’t even crack a smile. “Look, the US Travel Association believes that the average American doesn’t travel because they don’t see the value in it. They don’t feel like they need adventure, or they don’t feel like they can afford to be away from the office. A healthy work-life balance is critical. Not only to give workers a chance to enjoy their lives outside of the office, but also to recharge. It makes you more productive when you get back to work. We want this new show to inspire a new spirit of discovery. We want them to see what’s out there to explore. To show that families of all shapes and sizes can travel together. We think you and Rowan would be perfect to show the world how easy travel can be.”

  Lauren’s brow lifted. “Have you taken an airplane lately? Between over-booked flights, packed airports, long lines, and TSA check points? It’s a freaking nightmare.”

  “But it can be simple,” he said. “You have over 100,000 frequent flyer miles. I know. I checked. Rowan just racked his up to 150,000 miles. It’s time to put those miles to good use.”

  Lauren pursed her lips and shook her head. Her hand went absent-mindedly to her stomach. “I’m not saying we’re not interested, but... we have a baby on the way. We’re looking to buy a house and put down some roots. You were the one who encouraged that, by the way. We want to take our maternity and paternity leaves soon. I think travel is probably the last thing on either of our minds.”

  He nodded and sat back. “I completely understand,” he said. “Production wouldn’t begin until next year. Making your growing family part of the experience would make it more authentic to the American public. Could you please think about it? Discuss it with Rowan and let me know if you have any reservations or concerns we can address.”

  “Like I said, I’m not saying no,” Lauren said. “How long before we have to make a decision?”

  “I wouldn’t make the Network wait too long,” he said.

  “Thanks,” Lauren said.

  He stood. “Holler if you need anything while Rowan’s away.” He patted her shoulder. “If I can help, let me know.”

  “I will.” Lauren stood. “Thank you.”

  Bahati snuck in from the other door as soon as he was gone. “What was that all about?”

  “I’m not sure,” Lauren said, sinking back into her chair. Her head suddenly ached, almost as bad as her back. She pushed her aches and pains, and any other concerns, to the back of her mind.

  “Surely they don’t want you to travel more,” Bahati said.

  “Surely not,” Lauren said, completely disconnected. “Come on, let’s get back to work.”

  * * *

  “Would you like another bagel with your cream cheese?” Lauren glanced up at Bahati, then looked at her empty plate. Half the cream-cheese had oo
zed off her bagel when she smooshed it together to make a sandwich.

  “Sure.” She pushed her plate over to Bahati, who glanced in the bagel box, and smiled, picking out the onion bagel, putting it on her plate.

  “So what did Rowan say about the news story we saw yesterday?” Bahati asked.

  “He said they didn’t know anything about it, but that’s what made the professor miss their rendezvous. He finally made it and he’s the one that told them about the parachute woman.”

  “Have you had any luck?”

  Lauren debated how much to tell her. “I don’t know.” Lauren decided to keep her whirring thoughts and mystic abilities to herself. She tapped on her iPad and brought up a story she’d found. “The only one that really stands out is a corporate jet that crashed into the jungle and was found later to be carrying large quantities of cocaine.”

  “Drug-running is pretty common in Mexico,” Bahati said. “So I hear.”

  “True,” Lauren said. “Is it time for lunch yet?”

  “How many bagels have you had this morning? And you’re worried about lunch?”

  “Oh yeah, right.” Lauren shook her head. “I need more coffee.”

  * * *

  “Lauren.” Bahati nudged her. “Lauren?”

  Lauren glanced up from her iPad. “Huh?”

  “Are you going to work late?” Bahati asked.

  “No. Why?”

  “It’s after five,” she said. “I’m going home.”

  “I think I found something,” Lauren said.

  Bahati stopped and took a step back. “Oh?” She crossed her arms and leaned her hip on the conference table. “Like what?”

  “There was an American socialite traveling with her father in Mexico City when she was kidnapped and held for ransom in 2002,” she said. “Her father, against the advice of the FBI, State Department and American Embassy, paid the ransom. Over $5 million.”

  “And?”

  “And she was never returned,” Lauren said.

 

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