The Lost Treasure of the Aztec Kings

by Wyatt Liam Anderson

  Doug appeared from the back of one of the shelves with two cups of espresso.

  "Oh, how did you know you'd have company?" April asked with delight.

  "I saw you floating towards your father's office. I realized that mine would be next in a matter of seconds." Doug pointed at a seat while he sat in his swivel chair.

  April sat down, took a sip of the coffee, and asked, "You and my father are yet to get the private investigator, aren’t you? I think I've found a solution to that problem."

  She dropped the espresso cup on the table and brought out printed copies of the three profiles she had.

  "I'm guessing that you haven't had a physical meeting with these selections?"

  "Not yet. I wanted to run it by you first."

  "And by me, you mean Mr. Harry Wordsworth."

  April nodded.

  Doug had one more look at the profiles very quickly and said, "They look like promising prospects."

  "But?" April cut in.

  "It's not a murder crime we're trying to solve here, April. This is a very complicated subject that is beyond your blog or your father's investment. We are talking about something that millions of people hold dear. Many people have died for and are still willing to pay professional killers to ensure the truth stays buried. If an investigator is as important as your father suggests, then he's going to need the best."

  "I was hoping you might say that," April stated. "I looked into Liam Corden. He might be the youngest of the lot, but he's had experience in KGB special-ops programs that required some degree of archeology."

  Doug nodded. It was the kind of nod that showed admittance to the subject matter but was enough to give April hope.

  "You know what? Why don't you bring him in on Sunday to Katy?"

  Harry owned a golf course in Katy. At least April now knew where to meet her father physically, if she felt the urge to drive home her agenda at all cost.

  ___________

  Katy

  Houston, TX

  "I thought you'd done this before," Harry said as he and Doug stood, looking at a teenager who claimed to be an experienced caddy.

  "Just a moment, I'm trying to smoothen it up for you," the boy replied without looking up.

  Harry shook his head. For over three hours, Harry had put up with every mistake the boy had made since he showed up. He would have had him replaced if options were within reach. When the boy first showed up in his colorfully dyed hair to the golf course, Harry had mistaken him for one of the maintenance guys. The boy was a last-minute call when the main caddy called in sick.

  Doug went toward the boy and collected a rake from him. He turned the teeth of the rake in an upward direction and smoothened the surface of the bunker. He gave the rake back to the boy and said, "That's how it is done." When he had exited the bunker, he turned toward the boy again. "Watch the turf. Follow the direction that I took. Listen, I'm not sure Mr. Wordsworth can keep up with these any more than your skillset has. You should learn these basics if you want to keep this job. And you don't climb up the steep like that."

  The boy nodded.

  Harry set the ball on a tee and was getting set to strike it when a cart stopped a few feet from him. April stepped out in blue jogger pants and a white hoodie. Another cart pulled up next to the other one, and a tall, handsome man in his late twenties stepped out of it.

  "Is she bringing her dates to a golf course now?" Harry asked rhetorically.

  "I'm not sure it's a date. At least, not yet," Doug replied.

  "What is he then? I hope he's a caddy so I can let the orange hair there go do something else that he might be good at."

  April and the man with him finally closed in on Harry. "Hello, Doug," she greeted, waving a hand to Doug before she went into her father's open arms.

  "Dad, meet Liam Corden, former special consultant to the British Intelligence, Harvard graduate, and he's currently consulting for the IRS."

  There was a slight wrinkle around Harry's eyes, a gentle attempt to smile. He was impressed but was taking a lot of time to show it. He shook hands with the young man whose physical features were enviable even without his polished profile. His good height, charming smile, and fashion sense would get the ladies drooling over him. April had never introduced a male friend to her father before. Harry had always wondered when she was ever going to have time for a romantic life. Liam looked every inch the kind of man who could command the walls of Jericho or the walls of an ambitious 19-year-old. As Harry glanced from his daughter to Liam, there was no need to guess his thoughts. This ex-KGB must have charmed his way to his daughter, and judging by the brightness in April's smile, every brick that held her wall up to this age must have been crushed down by Liam's charm.

  "That's Douglas Pfeifer, my dad's attorney," April said as Liam shook hands with Doug.

  Harry was yet to assimilate the purpose of the brief introduction, but judging by Doug's facial expression when April introduced Liam, he could tell he was the only stranger in the block.

  "You know, when I saw you, I thought my caddy problems were over. But Harvard alumni, I'd have to get used to my bad golf days."

  "Dad, "April quickly interjected, having realized the mix-up, "I'm sure golf isn't the only problem you have. He's here about the private investigator's position that you needed."

  "Oh."

  No one needed an investigator to decipher the quick turn of events. Harry's expression went from heightened expectations to zero hope. The only person who wasn't surprised was Doug. Even the silence that followed afterward was touchable.

  "How long were you in the KGB?" Harry asked, throwing a club toward Liam.

  It was just a question. April sighed like they were back on track to ensuring her role in the matter wasn't wasteful.

  "Three years and a few months," Liam responded. He set the ball down on a tee. He swung the club back and forth and then adjusted his hands on the club until he had a firm grip on it. He swung it with intent to hit the ball this time. He landed a full swing that was so impressive Harry nodded in acknowledgment.

  "Are you familiar with the name Eric Neumann?" Harry asked once again as he also got ready to take a swing.

  "Not much. I heard on the news that he was murdered in his home. I didn't know who he was until April told me you were a friend of his. It's unfair to kill a man like that."

  Harry also swung his club, hitting a drive on the ball that wasn't as impressive as Liam's.

  "Do you have a theory as to why he was murdered?" Doug asked.

  "I read an article that explained that he used to be a priest. A former priest is murdered in his house, and if I were a detective on his case, I would be looking into his former colleagues. Perhaps there was something they wanted to keep secret."

  "So, you think a serving priest would do that?" Doug asked again.

  "A serving priest or ex-priest, or an angry member whose wife might have had an affair with him."

  Liam's response didn't stir any reaction, but when Doug didn't ask another question, Liam added, "Hypothetically speaking, by the way."

  Liam took another impressive swing that showed that Harry was no match for him.

  "Were you ever a Christian at any point?" Harry asked.

  "As a kid, yeah. My grandmother took me to church on Sundays, but I've never been a practicing Christian. I stopped going to church in ninth grade."

  Harry nodded casually. The questions gradually reduced into chitchat. They went from striking random balls to challenging each other to a bogey. Liam proved he wasn't just good at swinging clubs and hitting impressive drives. He hit birdies a few times, winning the challenge.

  When they had ended the game and were leaving the golf course, Harry turned to Liam and expressed his opinion of him briefly and straightforwardly that was typical of him.

  "Liam, I would love to play golf with you any weekend that you're up for it, but I can't hire you as my private detective. You have great potential, undoubtedly. You and I have the same stance
on religion, but in this case, I need someone with a little more devotion to the faith."

  ___________

  Omaha, Nebraska

  The turnout at St. Mary, one of the biggest dioceses in Omaha, was as expected. The deceased wasn't going to be accorded the rites of an official priest since he laicized close to a decade ago. But due to his popularity in the district and amongst the faithful, the elders decided to make it memorable in his honor.

  The body was lying in repose a few feet away from the altar. The presiding priest had just concluded his sermon. It was time for his family members to come forward and pay their respects. The late Eric Neumann died in his late forties. He had siblings that checked on him from time to time, most especially his immediate younger sister, who was the only person that represented the family. A Labrador followed her to the altar. The woman maintained her composure in front of her late brother and would have held on as she went back to her seat, but the dog wasn't as collected as its owner. Instead of following the woman back to her seat, the dog pressed its forelegs into the open casket and began to lick the deceased's face. That reaction, coupled with the "Aw!" chorused in the crowd and other sounds of empathy, forced Eric's sister into uncontrollable grief. Some sympathizers had to help her and the dog back to a seat until the session was over.

  Doug arrived when some youths carried the casket into a hearse to be transported to a private cemetery. He recognized Sara, Eric's younger sister, entering a car. He looked around to see if he would see any other family members, but there were none around. There was a man in a suit, standing several feet away, but he spotted him from the car side mirror. He just assumed he might be working with the security, not that there was any need for security in a place like that.

  Doug concluded there was no need, joining the procession. So, he told his driver to take him to Eric's home that was a fifteen-minute drive from the church. He had expected to meet the rest of the family and pay his respect. When the driver pulled up by the curb and noticed the crowd outside the former priest's house, he knew his visit would take longer than he intended.

  Another car pulled up a few minutes after he had exited the vehicle. Eric was loved by many, including animals. The last he was here on Harry's behalf, he spent some time learning exciting things about different breeds of monkeys, dogs, rabbits, and birds.

  Instead of heading for the entrance door, he walked toward the garage. Eric had a cottage behind the garage where he liked to oversee the animals. It was an office of some sort to him.

  A beaver stared at him from a window. It wasn't scared by his presence at all. It had a mix of red and brown hairs. The reddish mane seemed to stand on ends, revealing its beauty. When Doug got closer, two more crawled out of a thicket that had grown out of a used tire. The one on the windowpane came down to join the others. There was a burrow close to the back of the cottage. Eric must have constructed it as an exit route whenever the beavers felt threatened. But they hesitated to use it. Maybe they were waiting to see if Doug was a threat to a friend.

  "Hey!" a male voice called out behind Doug. The beavers scampered into the hole.

  "Isn't the gathering at the other side of the property?" The tone of the man's voice didn't seem like he wanted the exact answer to the question he asked. The inaudible query that came off his expressionless face and pensive voice was, Are you looking for something?

  When Doug turned to look at him, there was something about his eyes; it was so narrow if one didn't look hard enough, he would think the dark iris had eclipsed his sclera. He was of average height and probably in his early thirties. And the suit… Wait. Doug recognized him. He was the same man, lurking around at the church premise like a security operative.

  "Oh," Doug finally said. "I just wanted to have a look around."

  "Have you been here before?"

  "Yes," Doug replied. "Yes, I have. Three years ago, I was in that cottage, and Eric told me how intelligent one ugly-looking baboon is. My name is Douglas Pfeifer. And you are…"

  "Miles Cleveland," the man answered, and asked again, "How long have you known Eric?"

  "Long enough. Is this an interrogation?"

  Miles brought out an ID card with his face on it, and the words PRIVATE DETECTIVE boldly displayed on the top in red with a license from Missouri.

  That was enough to make Doug answer some other questions he had as they moved toward the other side of the property, where about eighty visitors were being entertained. Doug noticed how Miles blended in with the visitors and was brilliant in fetching information from each of them. After seeing Sara Neumann and delivering an envelope from Harry, he thought it wise to end his condolence visit there.

  So, Doug alerted his driver and left the house, but not before leaving his business card with Miles. Doug wanted to follow up on whatever information Miles had gathered so far.

  ___________

  Houston, Texas

  Harry ended his conversation with his fiancée as soon as he noticed the digital clock on the SatNav display screen of his BMW. He loved to listen to the business reports, especially on Wednesdays. Sometimes, he often wondered how the local radio got the information. The station was located a few blocks from his company, but even with the proximity, he was still surprised they knew things about his business that he sometimes didn't.

  "Like most corporate organizations, the gold mine industries are not spared from the recent economic depression. For instance, the Wordsworth Company has been a major supplier of gold to a lot of European and Middle Eastern countries. A few weeks ago, the board had reached an agreement with buyers from Portugal, Albania, and Turkey and expected the trade to happen anytime soon. The agencies from Portugal and Albania pulled out of the agreement at the last minute. Some business gazettes attested to the dip in the price of gold. Even the Bloomberg report predicted that the dip was likely to continue as a result of scarcity in production, rates of inflation, and other factors like—"

  Harry shut down the radio and instructed the virtual assistant to put him through to his secretary. He ordered his secretary to set up a meeting with his board. He got to the parking lot and noticed that Doug was also pulling up at his usual spot.

  "Just in time, Doug. I called Mandy to schedule a meeting with the board. I think I know why the Portuguese called off their appointment yesterday."

  "Please don't say the artifact had something to do with this?"

  "They know, Doug. They know we've been digging. Who do you think owns the agency from both countries?"

  Doug was quiet in a knowing way.

  "Yeah. They are very powerful, and if we don't do something urgent about it, we are going to have more than supply problems on our hands."

  They continued to talk on the subject matter as they took the elevator and reappeared on their office floor in a minute.

  "Good morning, Mr. Wordsworth. Good morning, Mr. Pfeifer," the receptionist greeted from her desk.

  "Morning, Mandy. Have you sent the memo?" Harry asked.

  "Yes, sir. I did, two minutes ago."

  Harry entered his large office, accompanied by Doug. Harry's swivel chair was turned back, but what came to their notice were the two cups of coffee on the desk. One of them was espresso, Doug's favorite, and the other was creamy coffee, exactly how Harry liked it.

  "How did she know I'd be in your office?" Doug asked rhetorically as he began to sip.

  "She surprises me sometimes too. That reminds me. Doug, please make sure these news hunters in the neighborhood stay off our business for a while. I've thought of discussing this in our meetings, but it always seems to skip my memory."

  "I'll make sure of that," Doug responded.

  "I mean, it is bad enough that this company has been throwing millions into the South African investment and not receiving a dime from it. Now the whole world is aware that we are losing European ties too."

  Slowly, the swivel chair turned around to their bewilderment. Miles Cleveland was on it, smiling at their bemused expressions as
he said, "Oh, about the coffee, you're welcome. And don't blame the poor secretary for the surprise. She has no idea how I slipped in. Yeah, I'm good at what I do. I have looked into you two and the various production stations and mining sites in various countries. I think we have a common enemy. The people that killed Reverend Neumann are presumably after you two. And um, your plan to discuss the situation with your board…it's a bad idea if you ask me."

  Harry just stood there with his jaw hanging open.

  Doug exhaled, turned to Harry, and said, "Um, that's Miles Cleveland, the private detective from Nebraska that I told you about."

  7

  Chapter Seven

  Houston, Texas

  April held her hand to her head with her elbow on the desk, tapping her feet impatiently. She had no idea what it was, but she had woken up on the wrong side of the bed that morning. She was irritated, and coffee had not helped like she thought it would.

  When it started to rain while she was walking to work, the irritation built even more, a decision she made to try and make herself feel better. She was forced to order a ride, and the driver showed up ten minutes later than he promised then proceeded to charge her extra money because of the traffic they met on the way.

  Work wasn't any better. Her father bought a media company, and she headed the news division called the Candid. It mainly was a blog, but they also operated on social media. She managed her art blog, which she named April's Nest from there, apart from the different divisions of the news company, which had chief editors heading them. The one she disliked the most headed the sports division. He grated on her nerves and always tried to show her up at any chance he got.