“Better.” The first thing he noticed was that she didn’t sound quite like herself. He couldn’t stop looking at her. Sunlight surrounded her, giving her an angelic appearance. He wondered wryly if God planned to teach him a lesson and had sent Lorraine to torment him with all the might-have-beens.
Carrying the tray, she stepped out of the sunlight. Jack’s eyes narrowed when he saw her face. Something wasn’t right. She wasn’t good at hiding her emotions. It was one of the traits he liked so much about her.
“Raine.” He always called her that when he wanted a reaction.
She either ignored it or didn’t hear him. “I brought your breakfast.”
“What’s wrong?” He favored the direct approach.
She frowned at him as if she wondered how he knew.
“Tell me,” he ordered. He moved over, making space for her on the chair.
He read her hesitation. Then with a deep sigh, she sat down next to him. “Remember I told you I first tried to remove the bullet with tweezers?”
He nodded.
“Well…the tweezers were in my makeup case. I was in a hurry and I dumped out my purse on the mattress. I remember seeing something odd then, but didn’t take time to examine it. And afterward I just scooped everything up and put it back.”
“Something odd?”
“A…gold object. I didn’t know what it was or how it got into my bag, but it didn’t seem important at the time. I’m constantly putting things in my purse for one reason or another. I thought it might be a broken earring or a pin I’d forgotten. I didn’t think twice about it.”
“What is it?”
Lorraine reached for his hand and squeezed his fingers hard. “I…can’t tell you for sure what it is, but I can guess. And I have a strong suspicion about how it got there.”
“How?”
“Jason Applebee. I’m afraid it’s another artifact. Another of those star things.”
It’d been over a week now, and no one had seen or heard anything of Jack Keller, Lorraine Dancy or Scotch on Water. Jason had run the risk of capture and worse in his efforts to locate the woman—or more importantly, her purse. He was afraid she’d discovered the Mayan artifact he’d hidden inside the small zippered bag. If she hadn’t already found it, then it was only a matter of time.
At least he hadn’t put both pieces in her luggage. That would have been disastrous. To lose one half of the Kukulcan Star was bad enough, but both would be unthinkable. Intolerable. Too many people had already died. Mostly by his hand. Jason had put himself at risk time after time and refused to be thwarted now.
This penchant for killing had come as a surprise. Jason hadn’t realized he had any appetite for it. He’d prefer to avoid it, of course, but he’d learned that when it was a question of getting what he wanted murder came easy. Easier than he would’ve dreamed possible.
From the time he was a kid, archaeology had fascinated him, especially anything concerning the Maya. He’d studied it exhaustively, obsessively. As a teenager he’d come to identify with the Mayan god Kukulcan. Unlike him, though, Jason hadn’t taken a vow of celibacy. Hey, why should he deprive himself of sexual pleasure? Frankly he couldn’t see any reason not to indulge. In the end Kukulcan had broken his own vow and was overwhelmed by guilt. He’d set out on a snakeskin raft and sailed toward the east. According to myth, the raft had then burst into flames that consumed him. His heart rose heavenward and eventually merged with the sun. One day, it was said, Kukulcan would come back, and Jason had found the key to his promised return. He’d stolen the archaeological find of the century.
He felt his anger rise as he remembered that he’d already lost half the Star; he’d learned from the press and the radio that it had been returned to the museum—which meant it was more crucial than ever that he get the other half back.
But that half was in the possession of a woman, an imbecile who didn’t have a clue what she held in her hands.
Jason had called upon every resource available to him, to no avail. It was as if Scotch on Water had disappeared off the face of the earth, as if Lorraine and Jack Keller had vanished. Perhaps they’d been engulfed in flames themselves and drifted toward the sun. But they would resurface one day, and when they did, Jason would be waiting for them.
“Let me see it,” Jack said. He resisted the urge to touch Lorraine, to reassure her. He noticed that a strand of hair, so neatly tucked behind her ear, had escaped, and finding the impulse too strong, he replaced it.
Her eyes met his and she reached up to clasp his hand. Their fingers entwined and she leaned forward and braced her forehead against his good shoulder.
“Hey, what’s got you so worried?” he asked. “Your friend isn’t going to find us. Hell, I don’t even know exactly where we are.”
Lorraine’s only response was a tremulous sigh.
“Get the artifact for me,” he said, “and I’ll take a look and tell you what I know.” Living in Mexico, Jack had learned a fair amount about Mayan mythology and culture.
Lorraine left him and returned a couple of minutes later. “Here,” she said, and handed him a three-pointed gold object about the size of a silver dollar.
Jack turned it over in his hand and felt his excitement growing as he began to understand the significance of what he held. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered.
“What?”
“Let me ask you something first. Did you see the artifact the police found in your luggage?”
“No.”
“Did anyone tell you anything about it?”
Lorraine paused. “Jason was talking to me at the time, and everyone else was speaking Spanish. But I do remember them referring to a Mayan god.” She paused, as if going over the conversation, then shook her head. “I can’t recall the name.”
“Was it by any chance Kukulcan? Or Quetzalcoatl?”
She frowned. “That might have been it—the first one. Why?” She stared at the gold piece in her hand.
“If this is what I think it is, you’re holding the lost half of the Kukulcan Star.”
“A star,” she repeated. She turned it over. “I see where it could be a star—I guess.”
“Each half has three corresponding points,” he explained, taking it from her palm, “and the two halves link together.”
“Who was Quetzalcoatl?” she asked, the name stumbling awkwardly over her tongue. “The other one you mentioned.”
“In most of Mexico he’s known as Kukulcan, and he’s half man, half myth. There’s a lot of conflicting information about the Plumed Serpent, as he’s also called. And it seems there were two Mayan leaders who took the name Kukulcan, as well, and were looked on as gods. In any event, the Mayans believed this deity, the original one, descended from heaven and presented their society with the concepts of love and patience. He was said to have united them into a confederation of tribes.
“Unfortunately this state of utopia didn’t last long. He was tricked into breaking his vow of celibacy. Filled with guilt and regret, he set sail, promising one day to return. Only he promised to come back as the Morning Star, the symbol of regeneration and hope.”
“Is this the Morning Star, then? Why is it in two connecting parts?”
“That I can’t say, but if what I understand is correct, it solves the mystery of his supposed return. See these symbols?” He reverently handed her the artifact. “I don’t know what they mean, but I do know that when the halves are linked, the secret is supposed to be completely revealed. I don’t think the pieces ever have been linked. One half of the Star has been kept in a museum, since it was found in the 1930s.”
“Oh, my goodness!” Lorraine murmured, covering her mouth. “When I arrived in Mérida, I waited forever before I was able to clear customs. Someone said all the available agents were checking everyone departing the country, looking for a stolen museum piece.”
“Half of the Kukulcan Star,” Jack said.
“You think this is the other half?” Lorraine asked.
“You’re right.”
“Once locked together and read,” Jack went on, “these two pieces will open up all kinds of new discoveries into the culture of the ancient Maya.” He tilted his head. “Incredible, isn’t it?”
Lorraine frowned, her fingers folded protectively over the half-star.
“Hey,” he said. He lifted her chin until their eyes met. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, Jack, don’t you know what that means?” There was no disguising her fear. “Jason will do anything to get this back.”
“True.” Jack wouldn’t mislead her. But Jason wasn’t their only worry. He knew any number of men and women who would kill for a mere glance at the missing half of the Kukulcan Star. “We have the advantage, though.”
“How’s that?”
“First of all, we’ve actually got it in our possession—and we’re going to hand it over to the Mexican government.”
“But, Jack—”
“And while we’re doing that, we’ll clear you of any wrongdoing.”
Twelve
Thomas Dancy was close to panic. He’d been absolutely sure Raine would be safely back in the States by now. He’d learned otherwise that afternoon after receiving a phone call from a man named Gary Franklin, who identified himself as Raine’s fiancé. Something had gone wrong; he was convinced of it. But there was nothing he could do until he heard from Jack. Franklin had been full of questions and was justifiably concerned. The conversation troubled Thomas, but he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what bothered him.
Now, as he walked home after a day of teaching, his steps were slow and heavy. His distress over Raine’s seeming disappearance had sapped any strength he had left. His two oldest sons played outside in the yard, happily racing their toy trucks around hills of dirt. When they saw Thomas, they gave a shout of joy and ran toward him.
He caught Antonio in his arms and lifted him high above his head. The boy squealed with delight. Hector waited impatiently for his turn, but Thomas lacked the energy to lift him, too. Instead, he held his son against him and bent to kiss his brow.
Inside the house Azucena was nursing the baby. Alberto suckled vigorously, his tiny fists clenched tight. Thomas gazed on both of them with love. He kissed first mother, then child.
“What’s the matter?” Azucena asked, studying him.
Thomas lowered himself into the chair beside her and sighed deeply. “A man phoned today looking for Raine. He said he was her fiancé. He’s worried. She’d promised to contact him and hasn’t.”
“She isn’t home yet?” Azucena’s surprise was evident.
“Apparently not.” Depressed and more than a little worried, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
“Is there any way you can get in touch with Jack?”
Thomas had already given the matter considerable thought. “No.”
“What about his friends from Deliverance Company? They might know something.”
Thomas mulled that over.
“You did all you could to help her,” she reassured him in that gentle way of hers. “It’s in God’s hands now. Tomorrow I’ll go to church to light a candle and pray for your daughter and Jack.”
Azucena could say her prayers and light her votive candles, but Thomas put no trust in religion. He’d turned his back on God in a Vietnam rice paddy; for him it was too late. All he could do for Jack and Raine was worry.
Later, it seemed to him inevitable that the dream would return that night. Thomas awoke bolt upright in bed, screaming.
“Thomas. Thomas.” Azucena slipped her arms around him. “It’s a dream, my love, only a dream.”
“Not this time.” His voice still shook. “This was so…real.” He clung to her and buried his face in her neck. Eyes closed, he savored her loving hands caressing his back.
“Tell me what it is,” she urged. “Tell me.”
He could barely say the words. “Someone’s about to die. I can feel it. I’ve felt it for a long time. First Ginny. Then Ernesto. Death comes in threes. It happened that way in Vietnam. I remember we lost two men within a day and we were all afraid we’d be next. Instead, it was my friend David….” He paused. “All that time, I was so scared it would be me. I didn’t want to die. All I wanted was to go home to my wife and daughter.”
“The war’s over. You have nothing to fear.”
“It’s Raine,” he whispered. “Something’s going to happen to Raine. I can feel it, Azucena. In here.” He carried her hand to his heart and pressed her palm there. “Dear God in heaven, I may already have lost her and I don’t even know her yet.” He covered his face with his hands and wept helplessly as his wife murmured consolation and whispered prayers.
Jack could hardly stand up without keeling over, but he insisted on starting the engines. No amount of arguing would persuade him otherwise.
As Lorraine had discovered, Jack Keller was by far the most stubborn man she’d ever known.
With the wind beating against her face, she carried a cup of coffee to the flybridge. He sat there, intently studying the charts and comparing them to the readings on the boat’s navigational equipment.
He smiled his appreciation when she gave him the mug. “Best I can figure, we’re two days from land.” He looked back at the chart and made a line with his finger. “See? We’re about here, and we’re heading straight through the Bay of Campeche to Alvarado. Then…” He glanced up. “Hey, what’s that worried look about?”
Lorraine didn’t know. She realized she should be happy, overjoyed. In a few days, three at the most, the artifact would be handed over to the authorities. Once that was done, Jack’s friend in the government would help clear Lorraine’s name. Before she knew it, she’d be back in Louisville with Gary.
“Lorraine?”
“I…I’m not sure.”
He slowed the engines. With the utmost tenderness, Jack touched the side of her face and looked deeply into her eyes. His touch stirred her, as it never failed to do, and she lowered her lashes. Since the night they’d lain together, they’d avoided touching, both afraid it would lead to more. A caress. A kiss. It was as if an invisible line had been drawn, and they’d both agreed never to cross it.
“I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She nodded, trusting him as she’d never trusted anyone.
“No one’s going to arrest you, either.”
Rather than explain the truth, she let him think she was worried about meeting the authorities. But her fears had little to do with that…and everything to do with Jack.
All the promises she’d made to herself—to avoid her mother’s mistakes, to return to her simple well-planned life—didn’t seem to mean much anymore. Gary and her life in Louisville were a world away. And she had to force herself to remember she was engaged to marry him.
She couldn’t leave Jack, she couldn’t. The thought was intolerable. Maybe they could be together. Make it work. They were opposites in every way and their lives were completely different, but maybe… As soon as the idea occurred to her, she knew it wasn’t possible. It hadn’t worked for her parents, and it wouldn’t for her and Jack.
Then another idea sprang, fully formed, into her mind. A plan. She’d return to Louisville and give it a month or two, test her feelings, make sure that being with Jack was the right thing to do. She owed Gary that much—to return home and explain. He loved her and she’d loved him. When she felt certain that being with Jack was what she wanted, she’d go back to Mexico and find Jack. If he felt the same way, they could go on from there. Then and only then would she tell him the truth about Gary. He might be angry with her—she wouldn’t blame him if he was—but he’d get over it soon enough.
“Lorraine?”
She stared at him blankly.
“Lorraine, what is it?”
“Nothing. Don’t worry.”
“You sure?” He tilted her face upward and looked closely into he
r eyes.
She managed to smile. “Positive.”
“Okay.” But he didn’t seem convinced.
“You want me to steer for a while?” she asked, knowing he’d never admit he was tired, although she could see he looked pale and shaky. She tried to make the offer sound casual.
“All right,” he said, but his reluctance was obvious. He set the course and turned the helm over to her.
She bit her lip to keep from suggesting he lie down and rest, knowing the mere notion might offend his stubborn pride.
But Jack lay down, anyway, which told her how exhausted he must be. He climbed down the ladder leading to the flybridge and nearly fell into his chair on the deck. Two minutes later he was asleep.
With nothing but open sea around her, Lorraine had plenty of opportunity to study Jack. Some color had returned to his face now. She suspected he’d been near collapse.
Jack’s estimate of how long it would take to reach land was accurate. On the evening of the second day, they neared the town of Alvarado. Their supplies of fuel and freshwater were low; they couldn’t have stayed out at sea much longer. Lights sparkled on the harbor waters, and the port had a welcoming festive appearance. Jack eased Scotch on Water into a wide berth, and Lorraine heard him chuckling to himself as he secured the boat to the dock. She could guess all too well why he was laughing—because of what’d happened the last time he’d tied up to a dock. It wasn’t something she planned to mention.
“I’m leaving now,” he announced as he came belowdecks.
Lorraine sat at the table with her arms crossed. She shook her head in disgust. “I can’t believe you’re doing this again.”
“I will admit it’s brave of me considering previous experience.”
Lorraine struggled not to smile. “You shouldn’t be cracking jokes.”
“I’ll be twenty minutes. Half an hour at the most,” he promised.
“That’s what you told me before!”
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