He rubbed his jaw, inspecting the entrance for a few beats, then shook his head. “Not really, but they’re hard to see with the vines and ferns covering most of them. Not to mention the lichen coating.Maybe after we clear away the vegetation.” He swatted at a fly trying to use his nose as a landing pad. “You’re the ace at glyphs, though. Do you recognize any of them?”
One looked a little like a mix between the face of a monkey and a bat. “I’m not the ace. Mom was.”
He waved her off along with the fly. “We’ve done this dance before,gatita. You’re better than you think at reading glyphs.” The smile he aimed up at her had a melancholy tilt at the edges. “Your mom would be proud of you and all you’ve accomplished.”
“I haven’t managed much since she died,” Angélica said, extracting rice paper and charcoal from her pack.
“You have, too.”
“Not enough.”
She needed to make up for her mother’s lost time.
If only she’d gone on that last trip. Maybe she might have been able to keep her from getting on that damned helicopter so they’d be here at this site together.
Well, actually, it seemed her mother was here. Partly. Ethereally. She glanced around, wondering if Marianne was standing right next to them, or maybe back in the trees.
“She’d be proud, period, Angélica.” He spoke with that no-nonsense tone he used when he was feeling extra fatherly.
She knew better than to argue with him and changed the subject. “I’m going to try to get rubbings of these carvings on each side of the entrance and then we’ll head back. I can scan through INAH’s database tonight after supper and see if I can find any close matches.”
Dammit, she should have had Quint leave his camera behind with her. That would have saved them time and allowed her to do a more refined search later.
“Don’t mind me,” he said, cresting the steps. He held up a flashlight. “I’m going to step inside and take a look around.”
“What?” She paused in the midst of tearing off a piece of rice paper. “No, you’re not.”
He clicked on the light. “Yes, I am. We need to know the structural integrity inside this place.”
“Dad.” She caught his arm as he tried to walk past her. “I promised Quint I wouldn’t go inside without him here.”
One eyebrow shot upward. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“That’s a change.”
“What’s a change?”
“You listening to someone else before running headlong into a tomb. Who are you and what have you done with my obsessive daughter?”
“I’m not obsessive, Dad.” When his other eyebrow headed north to join the first, she added, “I’m just very passionate about my job.”
“You’re passionate, all right.” He snickered. “Sounds like someone has been bitten by the lovebug to me.”
Her cheeks warmed. “It’s not like that.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s it like then?”
She sighed, swiping away the sweat running down from her forehead. “I don’t know. Must we talk about this right now?”
“Yes, we must.” He crossed his arms. “You like the boy, right?”
She snorted. “I think that’s obvious.”
“You have certainly been laughing quite a bit since he showed up. More often than you have in years.”
“So what? So have you. Quint’s a funny guy. He makes it easy to laugh more.”
