And Ethan had agreed. It made sense. Ithadto be the spot where Chimalli spent his final days.
Ford snickered at the absurdity of her proclamation. “I don’t think so, Corrie. This is the spot, I’m certain of it.”
“Oh, really? The accounts all place Chimalli’s site in a bowl.But only that side of the ravine is bowl-like,” she said, pointing to the spot where they’d descended.
Ford glanced back at the high side of the ravine. With the ridgeline sloping to the flat area where they were standing, he couldn’t deny that it didn’t appear much like a bowl. But they were also in a rain forest where hundreds of years of rainfall tended to wash away soil. And when he and Ethan had first located the spot and they’d immediately found evidence of ancient Mexican peoples, well, it had all made sense. “It likely got washed out,” he explained.
“Yeah, that’s possible, but look at the soil.” She pointed at the soil in his hand. The loose, crumbly almost-black dirt had a spongy texture as he pressed the substance between his fingers. “It’s different than at the top. Up there it’s more claylike. There would be some commonalities. And there’s no evidence of any erosion. It’s not the place.”
This. This was the Corrie he remembered—theI’m right, you’re wrongknow-it-all. Ford rolled his eyes. She hadn’t even looked at the artifacts they’d found or the dig pits. Like she could tell they were in the wrong place based solely on a handful of dirt. What a colossal waste of time. “Okay, Corrie. Well, thanks for this. Guess we should head back and get you to the airport.”
He started to walk away. God, how could he have ever thought this was a good idea? Bringing her here? Ford could have put the tecpatl in her hand—givenit to her, à la Bernard Sardoni—and shestillwould have said he was wrong. Because that was what Corrie did. She disputed everything he said. She was a contrarian, at least when it came to disputing whatever Ford believed. They would never see eye to eye because they’d never even started on the same page.
“I thought you wanted my help,” she hollered after him.Dammit. He slowly turned, and there she was, sassy as all get out with her arms folded and hip cocked to the side.
“Iwantedyour expertise on where we should be looking. See if you knew something we didn’t about how deep or in what spots to dighere,” he called back.
“Well, I’m giving you my expertise, and you’re in the wrong place.”
God, she was irritating. And arrogant. Like she’d always been.Expertise, pfft!
“You can’t possibly know that by standing here for five minutes and picking up some dirt.”
“Then where’s the river?”
“The river? What’s the river got to do with this?”
“Mendoza claimed that Chimalli tended to his wounds as they sat beside the river with Yaretzi cooking their meal nearby.”
He groaned. “Not again with Mendoza.”
“And in the Spaniards’ accounts they came upon a man suspected to be Chimalli by the river. Where is it? Where’s the river?”
Fuck.He forgot about the Spaniards.
He pulled out the notebook he kept in his pocket at all times and unfolded the map tucked between the pages. Scanning the worn paper, he searched for the river. There. Not far from a few of the other locations he’d circled as possibilities for the site. Sites he’d never bothered to rule out once they’d found this location.
Great.
He’d been so desperate to start digging and find these damn artifacts that he’d convinced himself he was right. Desperation mixed with a tiny bit of pride—and a healthy dose of arrogance.How could he have been so lazy and irresponsible? He didn’t deserve to be called Doctor.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” she said, smug as could be. It was smugness she’d earned, but the last thing he needed was a braggart.
“I didn’t ask you to come here for a trip down memory lane, Corrie, so spare me theI told you sos, okay?”
She laughed, but not one of those intoxicating, genuine laughs that he liked. No, this was one of thoseI despise you more than anything else in the whole wide worldlaughs he’d had the unfortunate pleasure of being on the receiving end of one too many times.
He’d earned plenty of those, too.
She unfolded her arms and placed her hands on her hips as she took a few slow, swaggering steps toward him. “You can’t say it, can you? Even now. Even when you tricked me into flyingthousandsof miles because you neededme, and you can’t admit when you’re wrong.”
Ford matched her stance and narrowed his eyes at her, bracing himself for a fight.
“Okay, okay,” Ethan started in, ready to play mediator yet again.
But Ford didn’t want a referee. This wasn’t about her flying to Mexico or some dirt. This was aboutthemand the long overdue need to hash out this decade-long grudge.
He’d opened his mouth with vile words on the tip of his tongue when Sunny ran over waving the yellow satellite phone in her hand.
