Path of the Jaguar

by Vickie Britton

  Lennea stammered a little, embarrassed that she didn't know the answer.

  Carlos Alfonso gave another unpleasant smile. "That's OK. I'll call the university."

  Lennea was glad to be out of the police station. She was glad to be hurrying toward Hotel Guerrero. She was anxious to see Sid's family, to be around people she liked and could trust. As she left the police station, she watched for Delores. On either side of the narrow street, facades of buildings blended with one another. Each block seemed a solid wall, an endless row of arches, curved doorways, and oblong windows, behind any of which Delores might be concealed.

  "Lennea!"

  Joseph stepped out of one of the many doorways, and now fell into step beside her. "Where are you headed? I was just going over to the hotel to see if I could find you."

  "I'm going back there now."

  "I'll give you a lift," he said, leading her across the street to a horse-drawn carriage that waited along with several others for tourists.

  Joseph helped her up and climbed in beside her. It was a relief to be seated, to be shaded from the sun. He said something in Mayan to the driver and the carriage started moving. At the corner the driver turned.

  "This is the wrong direction for the hotel."

  "I told him we wanted to drive through the park." Joseph leaned back, an arm behind her, but not touching her. "Whoever thought we'd be taking our carriage ride through Merida today?"

  He had dressed carefully in a white net shirt and navy trousers. The thin, white shirt exaggerated the width of his shoulders and opening low at the throat exposed thick, dark hair. He wore a ring, too, on his little finger, a silver jaguar with red stones for eyes. The ring fascinated her. "How unusual," she commented. "I've never seen a ring quite like it." "I bought it today. For you." He slipped it on her ring finger, where it fit perfectly. His large hand over hers prevented her from removing the ring. His hand remained tight upon hers as the carriage rolled easily down the street.

  "It's beautiful! But you shouldn't..." She did not finish her sentence, but leaned back, lulled by the clump of horses hoofs on pavement. They entered the Centerario Park passing between large arched slabs of stone.

  Thick trees covered them with deep shade. The trail led near a lake where a cool breeze stirred. Joseph pointed out to her various birds. "Lots of flamingos here," he said.

  She was beginning to relax and enjoy the short reprieve the harrowing day offered.

  Joseph was watching her. Lennea's eyes dropped to his lips and she felt stirred by the memory of them against hers. She longed suddenly for his arms to encircle her, to protect and comfort her. But he made no attempt to draw closer.

  The carriage swung away from the lake. At Joseph's request the driver stopped near a vendor. Joseph got out and returned carrying ice cream cones. He stopped to speak with the driver in Mayan.

  "What did you tell him?" Lennea inquired as Joseph got back into the carriage.

  "I told him to take his time getting back to Hotel Guerrero. I told him," Joseph's dark eyes sparkled, "that we're in love."

  * * * * *

  Chapter Eight

  As Lennea slid into the jeep, she first noticed the sack of wood carvings. Frank's eyes strayed to them. "I'm sorry. In all the excitement, I forgot to deliver them."

  "It doesn't matter." Irritably Frank tossed the sack into the back seat, as if relieved to have the contents out of sight. "I'll give them to Sid the next time I'm in town. Just don't tell Goldie." He paused. "In fact, let's not tell Goldie about any of this. You know how excitable she can be. And this about Delores is very strange." His eyes had lost their paleness and had become muddy. "Delores is scared to death of someone."

  "Do you have any idea who?"

  Frank's answer was a dull shake of his head.

  "Have you thought about talking to the police?"

  "To Carlos Alfonso?" He still stared at the road. "He'd sell the gold out of your teeth."

  "Then who can help?"

  "Sid. Sid would have married Delores if she hadn't stepped out on him. You know Sid. It was all over right then and there. But he'll still do all he can to help her."

  "What will he be able to do that we can't?"

  "Sid he knows everyone. He'll find her."

  Frank's increasing gloom and silence made Lennea grateful to reach the hacienda and Goldie. In orange peasant blouse and multi-colored skirt, Goldie resembled a bright-winged parakeet fluttering about, chirping questions. "How was your trip to town? Did Sid like the carvings?"

  Lennea, guiltily quiet, was saved by Frank who teased, "He told me to dump them in the ocean."

  "Oh, liar!" Goldie ushered them into the kitchen, which smelled of herb and spice from the brewing tea. "Frank," Goldie said, setting steaming cups before them, "I've planned a dinner party for Saturday!"

  "You did what?" Carefully Frank tempered the sharp edge from his voice. "Dinner party, eh? How many people did you invite?"

  "I just got off the phone to Neysa. She and Lucas and Sid. Of course I invited Dr. Hern, the guest of honor! And," she glanced at Lennea, "I told him to bring Joseph." Goldie's plotting manner was familiar, reminded Lennea of her sister Val. Lennea looked down at the jaguar ring she wore. Joseph was certain to end up next to Lennea at the dinner, but he, unlike Val's bachelor friends, was in no need of assistance!

  "Dr. Hern stopped by this afternoon. That's what really gave me the idea," Goldie said. "He left this letter for you." Lennea had forgotten that she had given her sister Wesley's box number. She felt a surge of homesickness as she recognized Val's large, flowing letters. She hurried to finish the tea so she could go to her room and read.

  "Sis, pardon the mess, but Teddy keeps grabbing my pen. Hope all is going well for you out there in the jungle. (Ha!) Dad still thinks you'll get bit by a cobra. (Ha!)

  Everyone is fine here. We missed your coming home this summer. Mom and Dad were terribly disappointed, and so was Harold."

  Harold was the last in a long line of farm boys Val paraded before her. Lennea's smile lingered as she read on.

  "Well, I suppose even in the jungle one has to eat. Because your cooking is so terrible, and because l feel sorry for your poor roommate, I am clipping out this 'no-fail' pie crust recipe I discovered in the last issue of Good Housekeeping."

  Nostalgia increased as she lifted the neatly cut clipping.

  "Now don't you dare write back and tell me that it failed!"

  Lennea felt tears moistening her eyes. She thought about last summer—her father's hints about the nice job down at the Co-op, Val's good-natured kidding, the adoring eyes of Harold the bachelor—and for a moment she wondered why all of that wasn't enough for her.

  Three cups of flour, one egg, one teaspoon of vinegar, one and one-forth cup of shortening. Val had underlined shortening; she had always attributed the failing of Lennea's crusts to shortening. Maybe Val was right. About pies. About everything. Lennea stared at the recipe. She would try Val's pie crusts for Goldie's dinner party tomorrow. Baking pies would keep her mind from this dangerous situation with Delores.

  Any event that would cause Delores to flee from Lennea had to be crucial, for in spite of a certain lack of closeness between them, Delores had always counted on Lennea's help and protection. Lennea would not have believed Delores' fleeing, her terror, had she not witnessed it with her own eyes.

  •

  Goldie's baked stuffed fish and vegetable casserole waited in complete perfection on the sideboard. The pies lacked only five minutes. Wesley, always on time, would be the first to arrive!

  The sound of the doorbell made Lennea hasten to the kitchen entrance. Nervously her hand went up to her hair, smoothing the straight, blond strands that just brushed the shoulders of her new turquoise dress.

  "Good evening, Joseph," she heard Goldie call. Lennea stepped forward and looked expectantly past Joseph into the darkness beyond.

  "Dr. Hern sends his apologies," Joseph said, sounding slightly embarrassed. "Something's come
up, so he couldn't make it tonight. You know how those things are."

  Lennea tried to swallow her disappointment as Joseph's words sank in. The carefully brushed hair, the dangling earrings, her best dress—all for nothing!

  Anger filled her. Not for herself, but for the LaTillas. Goldie had planned the whole party just for him. Surely he could tear himself away from his work long enough to honor their invitation. It was cruel! Lennea recalled the many times she had stood in Joseph's place making vague excuses for Wesley's rudeness.

  "You're looking lovely tonight," Joseph said. His slightly mocking gaze traveled from the new silver earrings to the dainty white sandals. Humiliation washed over her. He knew she had dressed up for Wesley Hern.

  Joseph stood near lighted candles. His white jacket made him look darker, even more handsome. Lennea felt some silly satisfaction. She had dressed for Wesley, but she felt the secret pleasure of knowing Joseph's suit and tie were for her! Goldie intercepted Frank with the news that Wesley wasn't coming. Lennea saw the disappointment she herself had so carefully concealed come to full bloom upon Frank's round, childlike face. Disappointment, but not anger. "He's going to kill himself working so hard! I don't know why he won't take care of himself." Turning to Lennea, he added, "Can't he see he needs one of Goldie's good meals now and then?"

  From outside came the sounds of talking, commotion, and laughter. Neysa and Lucas entered carrying food. Sid, looking suave and debonair, followed, one hand carefully hidden behind his back. Goldie approached them, lifting lids and squealing with delight. She eyed Sid, her gaze bright with expectation. "Sid, what do you have hidden from me?"

  With the flourish of a magician, Sid extended a silky, golden butterfly on a fragile stem. "Gold for Goldie!"

  "Oh, Sid!" The excitement upon Goldie's face reminded Lennea of Alice in Wonderland. Sid laughed, delighted by Goldie's pleasure. The perfect guests, Lennea observed: Sid, so charming; Lucas, so aristocratic with his gleaming white hair and old-world manners; Neysa, in lacy blouse and pink coral necklace, so very gentle.

  While Goldie and Frank took dishes into the kitchen, the three, as if accustomed to finding favorite chairs, seated themselves.

  "Mother's been giving Dad and I headaches," said Sid, rubbing his forehead with long fingers. To Joseph, he added, "She's been getting those vibrations again."

  "We'd better listen to her this time," Joseph responded. "Mother has psychic power," Sid explained to Lennea. He turned to Joseph for reassurance. "We can't doubt that, can we? For days before the last tidal wave, Mother predicted danger!"

  Gravely Joseph nodded.

  "Messages afloat in the air," said Neysa modestly, "so fine that only a few of us pick them up."

  Lennea felt a small shiver go through her. She never liked people to talk about the supernatural. As if sensing her discomfort, Joseph spoke softly to her. "The greatest reality is what we don't see with our eyes. What is this latest message?"

  Neysa's broad face grew darker. "It came to me early this morning."

  "Go ahead. Tell them," Sid spoke. "All day it's been so clear." She stopped, then reluctantly went on. "Someone is going to lose a great love!"

  Despite her skepticism, Lennea's thoughts worriedly leaped to Wesley. She glanced around at the others. Joseph, Sid, Frank, and Lucas took Neysa's words so seriously, apparently in each mind flashed an image of someone special. Lucas responded with an oppressive sadness, Frank with genuine fear, Sid with a nervous laugh. Joseph was watching her.

  Ridiculous! Everyone believed Neysa, as if she were reciting facts from a text book.

  "Concentrate, Mother. See if you can find out more!"

  Neysa closed her eyes tightly. Lennea could hear the Mayan woman's steady, calm breathing in the deep silence that filled the room. She seemed relaxed, as if she were on the verge of drifting off into peaceful sleep. Then suddenly, she started. "Oh, no!" Her eyes, now brilliant and fearful, fluttered open.

  "What is it, Mother?"

  Neysa, looking from Sid to Lucas, pleaded, "Don't let me ruin this nice evening. My visions don't always come true."

  "What else did you see?" Lennea was alarmed by Frank's brusque tone, surprised that Frank was allowing these people to see the belligerent side of him no doubt unknown to them.

  "I saw something," Neysa said, a slight trembling to her voice, "something that looked like blood."

  Lennea's heart sank. Again concern for Wesley's safety flooded her. Why hadn't Wesley been able to join them tonight?"

  "Blood!" Sid's hand returned to his forehead and he groaned. "There goes my appetite!"

  Lucas patted Neysa's hand, limp on the arm of her chair. "Let's not talk about this anymore," he said.

  Neysa looked weak, drained, very ill. "I'm so sorry! Here I've frightened everyone. And with us all so worried about Delores!"

  "I'm getting a message, too," said Joseph. "But of a different kind. What is that strange smell?"

  "On, no! The pies!" Lennea raced into the kitchen, but it was too late. The smell of burning pastry hung like a thick, black cloud over the room.

  •

  "What a wonderful meal!"

  "I'll second that!" remarked Sid, as his father passed him the platter of baked fish. He turned to Frank, a merry twinkle in his eyes. "I'll let you in on a little secret, Paco. I'm still a bachelor because I can't find Goldie's twin!"

  Goldie beamed, and so did Frank. Frank pointed his fork at Sid, and replied, "You'll never find another one like her. So give up and enjoy her cooking!"

  "My plan, exactly!" Sid said, digging his fork into the zucchini casserole.

  Joseph had not needed Goldie's prompting to seat himself close to Lennea. She tried not to be aware of him, the brush of his hand that caused stirrings throughout her body. She listened intently to the conversation hoping it would blot out Joseph's nearness and the anxiety caused by Neysa's predictions. "Hern is really expecting Tikom to be his launch to the future."

  "What do you think he'll find?"

  "Nothing that will please him," Joseph answered Lucas. "But I do think he'll uncover relics worth all the trouble."

  "It's exciting, isn't it? Being the Doctor's close friends." Goldie's awestruck voice brought attention Wesley's vacant chair, caused Lennea to consign upon Wesley's absence a harsh and unusual censure.

  "What's exciting is whatever's out there under layers and layers of dirt. Just waiting for us!"

  Lennea heard herself countering Joseph. "Dr. Hern's new book is what I find exciting."

  Sid agreed. "Without Dr. Hern's interpretations, I'm afraid the whole thing wouldn't mean much to me."

  "The Maya's do not need interpretation, only illumination. Speaking of illumination, the first Sound and Light Show of the season will be Tuesday."

  "You'll love it, Lennea!" Goldie burst out. "It's just fantastic, the way the serpent shows up on the pyramid! Oh,

  Frank, I want to go!"

  "We're going to have to miss this one."

  "But I was going to take Lennea!"

  "I'll be happy to take her," Joseph volunteered.

  Sid's request for dessert interrupted the lingering silence and saved Lennea from having to give Joseph a definite answer. She arose to assist Goldie with the pie—at least Wesley wasn't here to witness this failure. As she placed the pastry topped with lumpy, dark crust in front of Joseph, she quipped, "I'm trying to disprove an old theory: anyone can cook."

  Joseph laughed and began eating with relish. Lennea tried not to glance at the polite Guerrero's, who struggled with burned crust and dripping cherries.

  At the close of the meal on the way into the living room, Neysa spoke her first words. "I'm so disappointed that Dr. Hern wasn't able to be here. I wanted him to tell us all about his new book."

  Lennea remained in the kitchen with Joseph. They could hear Wesley's name drift to them from the adjoining room.

  "I'll have some more of that pie," Joseph said, earnestly extending his empty plate.

  "You d
on't have to play the gallant,"

  Joseph's eyes brightened, the small crinkles about them appearing to deepen. "I happen to like crusts on the crispy side." If he were lying, the huge portion she gave him served him right.

  Lennea wandered toward the patio doors. The night was beautiful. She longed to be outside in the jungle warmth, to feel the air, like tepid water, close about her.

  From behind her Joseph spoke, "Let's go for a walk! They're so busy discussing the great Dr. Hern, they won't even miss us."

  Lennea hesitated. What harm could it possibly do? She allowed herself to be guided by Joseph through the door, under wind chimes that tinkled faintly overhead. Whenever she glanced back, the patio lights were more distant, and finally uneasy thoughts took the definite form of Wesley's face. Her love for Wesley made this attraction to Joseph all the more disturbing. She continued to match Joseph's quick pace, knowing fully well that their being alone was a mistake.

  Occasionally she would steal a glance at Joseph's strong chin, his slightly prominent nose. In the bright light of the kitchen, he had seemed tame and cultured; out here he looked restless, rugged.

  And he seemed intent on a destination. When she slowed her step, his firm hand caught her arm, pushing her forward. She tried to quell a sudden surge of fear. "Where—where are we going?"

  Lennea could feel his measured, determined steps beside her in the darkness. "To the ruins."

  Lennea's heart thumped unevenly against her chest. She thought of the hidden money. He was deliberately guiding her in that direction. It couldn't be a coincidence!

  "Few people know about these ruins," he said, as they passed the first clearing and on into the dense, broad-leafed trees. "With Chichen Itza so near, they are hardly considered worthy of attention."

  As the rising pile of rocks came into view, Joseph outdistanced her.