“Gage won’t see it that way.”
“Why not? He’s obviously crazy about her.”
“Long story.” He thought of the woman, Cassandra, who had died. Gage still blamed himself. He wouldn’t let another woman in, no matter how much he cared.
Skye handed Edge a protein bar and a bottle of water. “You think they’ll stop for the day?”
“Who knows. They want the gold. To them, the risk is worth taking.”
Skye nodded, turned, and slipped back into the forest out of sight.
Edge pulled the hood of his slicker forward so the rain stayed out of his face, opened the plastic water bottle and took a long swallow, then sat down in the foliage at the base of a tree and settled in to wait.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
WHEN THE STORM DIDN’T LET UP,PAULO CALLED A HALT TO THEdigging, and they drove back to the hotel. The men who lived in the village either went home or took refuge in the cantina, all but Paulo and his cohorts, who took turns standing guard under the eaves in the corridors around the hotel.
Edge and his team were nowhere to be seen. Gage could reach Edge on the sat phone, but communication of any sort was risky. He wouldn’t call unless he had to. The Jeep was gone, parked somewhere out of sight, providing temporary shelter.
Santos stood outside the room Abby had gone into, the room where her grandfather lay dying. Gage could read the lustful anticipation in the man’s cold black eyes. Santos’s desire for Abby was growing. The instant they found the gold, Santos would kill him and rape her.
Gage was counting on his brother not to let that happen.
In typical tropical fashion, the storm blew over as fast as it had appeared. By morning, a hot sun burned across the land, turning puddles to steam and the air dense with humidity.
They returned to the dig site to find the level of the water in the chamber had receded, but it would be at least another day before they could take up the search where they had left off.
While Santos watched, Gage pulled out the charts and King’s notes and spread them open for Abby and Mateo on the fender of the Hummer.
“There may be another location worth checking out while we’re waiting,” Gage said, pointing to a rough floor plan of the hacienda King had drawn. “None of these old houses had indoor kitchens. Too much chance of setting the place on fire.” He pointed to a square drawn out behind the main structure.
“King didn’t mention this building in his notes, but it’s here on the plans he drew. I think it was the kitchen.”
“We should clear the ground and use the metal detectors,” Mateo suggested.
“Good idea,” Gage said. As they set to work, the rest of the men from the village arrived, all of them carrying firearms. They spread out around the ruins under the trees, out of the sun.
Gage wondered if Paulo had made a mistake in hiring them. If the gold was discovered, whatever money Velásquez was paying them might not be enough.
They worked all morning, Gage and Mateo stripping off their shirts in the unbearable heat. Abby wore a sleeveless blouse and a pair of khaki cargo pants that shouldn’t have made Santos’s eyes gleam or the ugly scar pull down the edge of his mouth, but did.
Gage softly cursed.
He glanced up to see Mateo setting down his metal detector and walking toward him. Abby set her rake aside and joined them.
“I found something,” Mateo said. Gage glanced around, but the men, as usual, were either napping in the shade or drinking. All but Santos, who watched Abby, and Paulo, who took his job seriously.
With his back to the men, Mateo opened his hand to reveal an ancient clay figurine, the miniature image of a running man.
“Pre-Columbian,” Gage said, picking up the piece to examine it. He handed it to Abby, who ran her fingers carefully over the object.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“Definitely Mayan,” Gage said.
Paulo appeared just then. “What is it? What have you found?”
Gage handed him the figurine. “A piece of Mayan art.”
