Quint started laughing.
She nailed him with a one-eyed squint. “It’s not funny.”
“It kind of is.”
“It’s not. It’s weird and awkward.” She swatted at a fly trying to join their conversation. “It’s kind of sad, too. Mom really misses us. She said she’s been here with us for a while, keeping an eye on everyone.”
“Like a guardian angel. That’s nice.”
“Uhhh, mostly.”
“Why mostly? It’s your mom.”
“Yeah, but she can also see us kissing.”
“Oh.” He took a step back. “What else has she seen?”
“Not much.” She shrugged. Well, her right shoulder did.
“Your shoulder twitched.”
She waved that off. “Listen, Quint, I’m sorry about ruining the vacation you planned for us.”
“I’ll accept your apology in the form of many kisses, a few well-placed touches, and maybe a quick peep show later when we’re alone—even if your mom is watching.”
“Deal.”
“For now,” he continued, taking her hand and lacing his fingers through hers. “How about you tell me what’s going on in that big brain of yours when it comes to this dig site? And don’t tell me ‘nothing,’ because it was clear that your wheels were grinding all last evening during supper. And probably this morning, too, but I couldn’t find you.”
“Okay.” She glanced back along the path.
So did he. There was still no sign of the others.
“But I’m going to make this quick.”
He waved for her to continue.
“As I told you, Mom said she was wrong and that this place was not some sacred religious site, but she didn’t say what it was. After a night of staring at the map and considering what we’ve found so far, I think the prison theory has legs. If I can come up with some sort of evidence that pushes it more firmly in that direction, I could take that back to INAH and ask for more time at a later date to explore further. That should keep others away for a while.”
“But what if this place is bad, like your mom hinted at? Shouldn’t we be leaving? Like before shit gets any spookier?”
“Yes, and that’s why we’re actually heading to the temple now, not the other ruins. According to the map, we need to branch to the northwest near the dead vegetation.”
“Does your father know about this plan?”
“No, but he will shortly, and I predict he and Dr. Fernel will be happy with that news. They both seemed to have a strong urge to find the temple in spite of our normal procedure. Pedro, on the other hand, may squawk some and lose a few feathers.”
Quint grinned. “Can’t say I blame him. Old temples are creepy, especially when the ceiling is crumbling down all around you.”
“I just hope we find something at the temple that will give us an answer to what this place was. I want to close up camp soon and get the hell out of here before something goes south.”
“So, you’re willing to take the risk of sticking around a bit longer, even though your mom warned you?”
She sighed. “I had to make a choice—either I stop the dig, possibly losing my position at INAH to a Mexico-born archaeologist, and thereby having another crew come here to finish the job.”
“Which means they might have to face whatever trouble might be awaiting us.”
“Exactly.” She stared toward the mess of jungle in front of them. “Or we continue with the dig for a few days longer and stomach a little risk. But I keep my job and control of the site for the time being.”
