“We hiked,” Kinley said. “Through the jungle for the past three days.”
She looked between Kinley and Shane. “Oh, my dear. You poor thing. Did the man who attacked you get your notebook?”
Shane saw the moment it clicked with Kinley. How did Christine know Kinley had been attacked by one man and that he’d been after her notebook?
Kinley eased away from Christine and closer to Shane. “No. But—I don’t understand. How did you know they wanted my notebook? Why were you with those men?”
She looked between them. “What men?”
“In the black SUVs—at the hotel the night I was attacked. A man shoved you against the car. The same man who tried to give me a ride to Carmelita. I thought they had kidnapped you.”
Christine’s entire demeanor changed. Until that moment, Shane would have said she was an attractive older woman, but a hardness entered her face, emphasizing the pinched quality of her lips and eyes.
“Well, I wish I had known that before. I would have played up that angle.”
“What?” Kinley asked.
“I wasn’t kidnapped, silly girl. That was a lovers’ quarrel. We hit a wall with the translations. I wanted to wait for the driver to pick you up like we planned, but after three months in this godforsaken jungle Armando was impatient.”
Kinley shook her head. “I don’t understand. Where is Dr. Biert and the rest of the team?”
Christine rolled her entire head. “Ugh. There’s no team. It’s just us.”
“But the emails. The invitation from the Foundation…”
“Dummy accounts. Fake. I knew you needed a little incentive. You wouldn’t have come if you knew it was a private endeavor. You’re too invested in the peer review process.
“Don’t get me wrong, the Foundation plans on uncovering the city—eventually—but with a different team. They had the audacity to give the lead to someone else. To a man, of course. I’ve worked my entire life for this moment and they were going to hand it to someone less experienced simply because he has a dick between his legs. It’s bullshit.
“Armando agreed to fund my project for eighty percent of whatever we discover. It’s priceless and I can live comfortably on twenty percent of priceless, so what do I care?”
She shrugged and turned to the camp. “Come along.”
He was no psychologist, but that woman was batshit crazy.
“What do I have to do with this?” Kinley asked when they reached the tents.
“My dear girl. When you sent me that email telling me you deciphered the Lago Azul text, I couldn’t believe it. It was like Kinich Ahau himself was smiling down on me. The inscriptions in the temple are the exact same as the text. You, my dear, are the key to finding the treasure of Aapo.”
“That’s…that’s a myth.” Kinley glanced at Shane. He wanted to find a way to reassure her but couldn’t figure out the best way to do it.
Christine leaned close. “But it’s not. We found the burial chamber. And you’re going to figure out how to open it.”
* * *
Kinley’s mind jumped from one thing to the other as they followed Christine toward the temple. She searched blindly for Shane’s hand and some of her fear disappeared once hers was engulfed in his, along with a reassuring squeeze. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
Christine and her team had cleared patches along the base until they’d found an entrance. Much of the facade was still covered with plants and trees staking their claim in whatever small crevice they could find.
One thing bothered her more than anything else she’d learned in the last ten minutes. “Why did you have us attacked on the road from Flores if you intended on sending a driver for me?”
Christine stopped and faced them, a look of derision marring her complexion. “What are you talking about?”
“The tour van we took from the airport—it was attacked by bandits on the way to Carmelita. Our driver was shot and almost killed,” she said.
“We had nothing to do with that,” Christine said.
“Really? Because he was one of the ones who attacked us.” Shane pointed at one of the men ahead of them on the path. “How’s the head?”
