“What makes you think that has anything to do with Rowan’s parachute woman?”
“The men who collected the ransom were supposed to return her that afternoon, but they were captured when their plane crashed while landing at the airport in Progresso. She wasn’t on the plane.”
“So?” Bahati queried. “They told the police she escaped by jumping out of the plane with their last parachute.”
“Well now.” Bahati tilted her head a bit. “That does sound interesting. And the money?”
“Never recovered. The bills were marked ... they’ve never turned up.” Lauren reached for her phone. “I have to call Rowan.”
Chapter 7
The team spent all day documenting the circle of stones. They took measurements and examined the jungle around the mound where the monoliths stood. Rowan was hot, tired, and hungry. All that was forgotten when Lauren began rattling off information she and Bahati had found. She spoke so fast; he hardly understood a word of it.
“Lauren, wait.” He finally got a word in edgewise. “Slow down and start over. I caught something about a kidnapping and an airplane.”
He sat down on one of the stone blocks scattered at the edge of the site to catch his breath. She related the story with the calm measure he was accustomed to hearing in his wife’s voice. “Are you kidding me?” That was the best thing he could think of to say.
“No. We verified the story from multiple sources,” she said, as if she had to justify her research to him. “Her name was Stephanie Wentworth. She was sixteen when she disappeared.”
“Wentworth?” Rowan’s voice muffled. “Her father was William Wentworth? The William Wentworth?”
“Wentworth Petroleum’s Founder and CEO until his death, a year ago... suicide.”
“Wait, what?”
“He climbed to the top ledge of one of his offshore oil rigs— and jumped,” Lauren said.
“Why?” Rowan asked. “Any suicide note?”
“Yes,” she said. “He published a blog post about how he never recovered from the grief of losing his daughter. He was never the same. Shortly after Stephanie disappeared, his wife left him. He began abusing alcohol and taking pain killers. He spent months in rehab. Somehow, he was able to keep it from his board of directors... and the media. When oil prices plunged in ‘08, his company lost billions. He nearly lost everything. He started selling off assets to keep the company afloat. He sold his mansion in the Hollywood hills. He sold his Mercedes and his collection of muscle cars. He cancelled his membership at the country club. He canceled his subscription to Forbes Magazine. Then, he moved to Oklahoma City and bought a modest home and an old pick-up truck. He’d started his career in Tulsa, so he went back to the basics with his business. They were able to re-organize and recover from the recession. It’s now in the top ten of the Fortune 500 companies in America. He was worth nearly $500 billion when he died.”
“Who inherited his money?” Rowan asked the question sarcastically.
“He left most of it to the University of Oklahoma, for their petroleum engineering and football program. Even the marching band got a new building on campus and several customized tour buses and an equipment tractor trailer. All thanks to his generous endowment.”
“Wow,” Rowan swallowed hard. “So, now the hard part...”
“Which is?”
“Figuring out if the Wentworth girl has anything to do with the Jaguar Queen of Chichén Itzá.” Rowan swatted a mosquito. “Can you send some equipment for me?” He glanced up at the sky as the sun went behind a cloud. The air was damp. It made the jungle smells even more overt.
“What do you need?”
“Ground penetrating radar and some metal detectors,” Rowan asked. “Dr. DeLaFuentes doesn’t have access to a GPR, and I meant to pack them and the metal detectors, but in my haste... well, I forgot them.”
“Not like your bag wasn’t already full.”
“Exactly.”
“I’ll have Bahati take care of that first thing in the morning,” Lauren said.
“We’ve got hotel reservations at a nearby resort,” Rowan said. “I’m ready to get a shower and a plate full of tacos. Then, I’m going to sleep in a real bed with air conditioning. I’ll send the shipping info via email once we get settled tonight.”
“I wish it was my bed.” Lauren sighed.
“Me too,” Rowan said.
“I wish I had tacos.”
“I’d share mine with you if you were here.”
“I know. I’ll call if we find anything.”
“I’ll do the same,” Rowan said. “Get some rest. You sound tired.”
“You too.”
Chapter 8
It took four days for the crate with the equipment to reach them at the resort. They were working out of Rowan’s room, using it for basecamp. It wasn’t the luxury vacation one might think. The hotel had seen better days. They’d gotten the last few rooms left in the whole region. All the other hotels and resorts were filled with other research groups, and pilgrims who came to witness the end of the world.
To make matters worse, it had been raining for three days straight. Working in the rain was a challenge. Normally the Veritas team would work rain or shine, but the limestone gravel roads had turned to a hazardous quagmire. Enrique had to tow them out of the mud more than once. They finally gave up and returned to the resort. What had been intended to be a brief respite, had turned into a refuge. Here, they worked on their research, and performed maintenance checks and calibration on their equipment. Five guys crowded into a room meant for two.
“This symbol is the sign for water. In the jungle, the only reliable source of water is the cenote,” Enrique said. Even the professor had taken shelter with the team. “There are dozens of them scattered around the jungle. They are giant caves, created in the limestone, carved by rainwater. These pools were sacred to the Maya.”
“Water usually is,” Jean-René said with a lift of his shoulder.
“When there are no rivers or lakes, they become especially so.” Enrique nodded. “Do you scuba dive, Mr. Pierce?”
Rowan grinned. “Yes, I do. I love scuba diving.”
“When the rain lets up, I will take you to one of the cenotes I found a few months ago a couple hours south of here. It’s a long journey, but I think you will like it and it’s worth the trouble.”
“So what do we do until the rain stops?” Jean-René glanced out to the pool. Raindrops bounced several inches into the air with the force of their descent. It was raining so hard you couldn’t see the tennis courts across the parking lot.
“The bar is open,” Rowan licked his lip. “I’ve been in Mexico almost a week and haven’t had a margarita yet.”
“Is it even supper time yet?”
“It’s five o’clock somewhere.” Enrique grinned.
Rowan stood collecting his laptop and his papers. “Let’s go have a drink then!”
* * *
Over a long evening of drinks and tacos, Enrique gave Rowan and Jean-René a lesson in reading the Maya hieroglyphs.
“So this symbol is u chan. It means his captive or his ward.” Enrique pointed to one of the stone carvings on his laptop. “But this symbol is u bak. It means his captive or his bone.”
Rowan shook his head. He was overwhelmed and amazed at the multiple meanings of the blocks. “No wonder it’s been so hard to translate these glyphs.” He drained his fifth margarita.
“Barkeep, another round!” Jean-René called.
“Sorry, is last call thirty minutes ago.” The Guatemalan bartender shook his head. “No mas margarita for you, amigo.”
“Aw man! What time is it?”
“Three o’clock in the morning.” Enrique glanced at his watch. “Rowan, Jean-René, we need to get some sleep. Maybe the rain will stop tomorrow, and we can go to the cenote.”
“Here’s to the cenote.” Jean-René raised his sixth glass and tipped it back, nearly falling off the stool.
Enrique caug
ht him and set him upright. The doctor reached for his wallet and pulled out a stack of bills, tossing them on the bar. “Gracias Marti.” He waved to the bartender who came and collected their empty glasses. “We’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“I will cut up more limes for you gringos.” He guffawed. He’d been enjoying the Americans and their crazy stories.
“Buenos noches.” Rowan leaned on Jean-René. The cameraman was in no shape to stand on his own either. Enrique ended up holding them both up, getting them to their rooms, grinning the whole way.
* * *
Lauren was aware that she was awake, but she had no understanding of why. The room was dark, except for the dim glow of the television. She rolled over and was immediately aware of what had woken her. A sharp stabbing pain pierced her back. At the same moment, the muscles in her stomach seized. Her belly went hard beneath her hand. She sat up gasping for air, but the pain sent her flat on her back. She was unable to move. Her hands wrapped in the sheets, holding on for dear life. The muscles finally relaxed. But the pain in her back didn’t abate.
“Truth Seeker.” She heard Tsul’Kalu as if he were sitting in the room with her. “You are in trouble.”
“I’m okay.” She tried to convince herself. She panted. “I’m okay. Just... Braxton-Hicks... I’m... sure.”
“You need help.” The voice came to her again. “You are not well.”
“No.” She gasped. “I’m okay. It’s just a cramp.”
“Call your friend.” He calmly instructed. She didn’t argue with the hallucination. She found her phone, but hesitated. It was two in the morning. “Call her.”
She obeyed. “Bahati,” she said, as clearly as possible.
“Lauren? Are you okay?”
“No. I don’t think so.” She panted, rolling flat on her back. “Something’s wrong.”
“Do you need me to call an ambulance?”
“Just... come get me,” she said. “Take me to the ER?”
“I’ll be there in five minutes,” she said. “Is your front door locked?”
“Yes.” Lauren groaned, panic washing through her. She wasn’t sure she could get to the door in this condition, not by herself.
“Do you still keep a key in the ceramic frog in the flower bed?”
“Yes.” Relief washed through her. “It’s under the yellow rose bush.”
“Okay,” she said. “Hang tight. I’m on my way.”
“Just hurry.”
* * *
“May I help you?” The nurse didn’t even look up from the computers as Bahati brought her into the ER. Bahati had the presence of mind to call and let them know they were on their way. Something was definitely wrong. Lauren had broken out in a cold sweat, and her hair clung to her brow.
“This is Lauren Pierce,” Bahati said, curtly. “I called a few minutes ago.”
“I feel like I’ve been run through with a claymore...” Lauren gasped. “My back is killing me ... my stomach just went hard like a rock.”
“How far along are you?”
“Not far enough.” She shook her head. “Thirty weeks.”
“Did your water break?”
“No,” Lauren said.
The nurse lay a clip board on the counter and barked instructions for her to fill the forms out and have her ID and insurance card ready. Bahati started to protest, but Lauren snatched the clipboard off the counter and gave the woman a shaded expression of irritation. She sniffed and made her way over to the bank of chairs nearby, sinking into one.
Lauren was relieved when a nurse brought a wheelchair and they moved her to it carefully. “Mrs. Pierce?”
“It’s Doctor Pierce, actually.” Lauren corrected her.
“You might be having Braxton-Hicks contractions, but we’ll make sure you’re not in labor.”
Where are you taking her?” Bahati asked.
“We’ll take her up to labor and delivery,” the nurse said.
* * *
“Okay, Mrs. Pierce.” The resident came in, looking over her chart.
“Doctor Pierce,” she corrected him. “But ... call me Lauren.”
“Okay, Lauren. We’re going to hook you up to some monitors and check your baby and make sure it’s okay. Do you know what you’re having?”
“No.” She was much more comfortable flat on her back, but the stabbing pain still made her feel like she was being ripped apart.
“Oh, you like surprises?”
“My husband wants to know, but... there’s just not enough mystery left in the world.” Lauren winced as they went to work on her.
“Temp is 103.4,” the nurse said.
“Have you been feeling okay lately?”
“Eh.” Lauren managed weakly. “I came home from work early yesterday ... I was just really tired, but I haven’t been sleeping much lately.”
“Why not?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” she panted. “My husband’s working ... in Mexico, and I don’t sleep... well when he’s .. gone.”
“Well you’re running a fever,” he said.
“Is my baby okay?” she asked as Bahati came in.
“Let’s find out.” He peeled up her t-shirt. Taking the Doppler from the nurse he squeezed some gel onto her stomach before running the probe over her belly. A comforting whooshing rhythm came into focus, and Lauren recognized the baby’s heartbeat, strong and steady. “That’s a good sign.”
“Is that the heartbeat?” Bahati asked.
Lauren smiled. “Yes.” She sighed, cringing as her stomach went hard again, the muscles squeezing so tight, it took her breath away.
“Holy cow!” Bahati’s face contorted. “That is a contraction, isn’t it?”
“Sure looks like it,” the resident said. “Let’s get her hooked up to the uterine monitor. Let’s go ahead and start an IV and get some fluids going, and some antibiotics.” He continued his exam. “I want a full work up, and we’ll start her on some Terbutaline to slow the contractions.”
“Yes, Doctor.” The nurse charted the orders at the computer terminal in the corner.
“Lauren, we’re going to admit you until we can find out what’s going on and make sure we can get these contractions under control, okay?” Lauren acknowledged him with a wordless tilt of her head. Bahati caught her hand, holding onto it tightly. Lauren’s face was a study in focus as she held it in a permanent wince. “Where does your back hurt?”
She pointed to the right side of her back. He ran his hand along the spot, feeling for any injury. “Make sure we get a urinalysis,” he said to the nurse. “I’m thinking UTI. Lauren, do you drink a lot of water?”
“Usually,” she said between her teeth. “Haven’t lately.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Could be kidney then.” He patted her on the shoulder. “Hang tight and we’ll find out what’s going on and get you feeling better.”
* * *
A few hours later, the medicine and the fluids had kicked in. She was able to roll onto her side, at long last, comfortable. Bahati paced back and forth. “Should I call Rowan?” Bahati broke the silence.
“No,” Lauren snapped, a bit too quickly. “Let’s not worry him needlessly.” She yawned. “I’m feeling better. He doesn’t need to know yet.”
The resident came back in. “Lauren, we got your test results back,” he said. “There was blood in your urine, and your white blood count was elevated. That says kidney stone.”
“A kidney stone?” Lauren wrinkled her brow.
“It’s actually quite common. It’s worse when you get dehydrated,” he said. “I bet you drink a lot of coffee, tea, or soda, don’t you?”
“Guilty as charged,” Lauren admitted.
“I thought so. It also explains your contractions. Dehydration can do that too. So, from here on out, it’s one cup a day, and at least 64 ounces of water,” he said, leaning on the rail. “Any more contractions?”
“No,” Lauren said. “Not for a while.”
“That’s good,” he said.
“I’m going to keep you on a twenty-three-hour observation, just to make sure you get plenty of fluids and antibiotics. We want to make sure the contractions are under control. I’ve called your OB. He said he will stop by this morning when he does rounds. So just get comfortable and try and get some rest.”
“Thanks.” Lauren yawned, ready for a nap.
“Do you need anything?” Bahati asked when they were alone.
“I need you to not call Rowan,” she said curtly. “I don’t need him worrying about me.”
“I understand.” Bahati smoothed her boss’ hair back. “Get some rest and I’ll be back in a little bit.”
“Promise me.” Lauren caught her wrist. “Say it.”
“I promise,” Bahati said. She even crossed her heart with her finger when Lauren glowered at her dubiously.
Lauren nodded and closed her eyes and surrendered to her exhaustion.
* * *
Bahati sat down in the lobby and dialed the number on her phone. “Thanks for sending the GPR, Bahati,” Rowan said without preamble.
“Rowan, Lauren’s in the hospital.”
There was a long pause before he said anything. “What happened?”
“She told me not to call you. But I figured I’d rather get fired by her than fired by you.”
“No one’s getting fired, Bahati.”
“I know, but I can handle her being mad at me. If anything happened to her and I didn’t tell you, I’m not sure I could handle you being mad.”
“No, you did the right thing,” he said. She could tell it was everything he could do to keep his composure. “What’s going on? Do I need to come home? I can catch the first flight out.”
“No,” Bahati said, explaining everything to him. “You don’t need to come home. They’re just going to keep her long enough to make sure her fever goes down. They also need to get her hydrated and make sure her contractions have stopped.”
“Contractions?”
“Yeah, but the doctor thinks she’s dehydrated more than anything. He told us that could cause contractions, as well as the kidney stones.”
“Wow, this just keeps getting better. Kidney stones?”
The Jaguar Queen Page 6