“So, how much longer until Pedro and Mr. Moneybags get here?” Juan asked, bringing Quint back to the here and now.
“And Daisy, too,” he added, glancing at Juan out of the corner of his eye, watching for a reaction.
Juan smiled up at the sky. “It will be nice to hear her laughter again.”
Daisy Walker was a middle-aged grad student whose uncanny ability to find lost things with ease had given her an almost supernatural power at the last dig site. Considering that she’d also acted as a channel for Angélica’s mother’s ghost, he could probably get rid of that “almost” qualification when it came to the supernatural.
Making things more interesting, Juan had developed a soft spot for Daisy, who also seemed keen on him. Angélica had told Quint she was more than happy to find someone to keep her dad company for the rest of his years, especially someone as fun and friendly as Daisy. Her being a fellow Mesoamerican archaeology fanatic didn’t hurt either. Although Quint had to wonder how things would go for the two of them if Marianne were still hanging around Daisy. What was a love triangle called if one of the three was wispy all of the time?
“So, you’re saying that my laughter isn’t enough music to your ears?” Quint teased.
“The entertainment you provide is more visual.” Juan grinned. “I wish I could have been recording your spider spin for Pedro. He would have laughed until he cried.”
Quint shook his head. “This jungle is going to be the death of me yet, I swear.” He stole the palm frond from Juan and started fanning himself. “To answer your question, Angélica said they should be flying in around two.”
At least that was what Pedro had told her when she’d called him this morning. He’d been doing some pre-flight checking at the time at the airfield outside of Cancun, waiting for Dr. Fernel to arrive.
When Angélica had said she was going to call in reinforcements, that had included the financial kind. Dr. Fernel wasn’t only able to provide LIDAR maps that would save her time and manpower money when it came to picking where to start digging at Site 5, but his monetary promise also gave her the budget to bring in Pedro and his helicopter for a couple of weeks.
As for Site 5, Quint had a feeling that the real work was yet to come after they scaled that wall. All of this hacking and slashing to build a camp was the easy stuff, since they didn’t have to take much care when swinging away. On the other side of that wall, they would need to be more careful, move at a snail’s pace rather than in leaps and bounds.
They’d gone back to Site 5 a couple of times in the midst of all of their other clearing work, widening the path further along the oldsacbeleading to the wall, removing more vegetation around that outer, rubble-surrounded platform. They’d even cut away some of the jungle from the wall, farther beyond the pile of skulls, trying to find a gate to make it easier for everyone to enter the site. Unfortunately, the last people to leave Site 5 long, long ago seemed to have walled the entrance, leaving the only option to go over the top.
The thirty-foot or so drop on the other side of the wall was still a problem, but upon closer observation of Quint’s photos, Angélica had agreed with his initial observation that there was a structure abutting the wall a short distance to the south. So, they’d cleared a swath of jungle to that section of wall, built a rough-hewn ladder out of leather and saplings, and climbed up and over—well, all except Juan, who’d waited at the base of the wall for them to come back down. The drop to the crumbling structure inside the wall was only about six feet, so they’d secured another makeshift ladder on that side and called it a day, waiting to explore any further until Dr. Fernel and his fancy LIDAR-based maps arrived.
“It’s hard to believe it’s only been a little over 72 hours since we came across those skulls and the wall,” he said to Juan. “Your daughter is a machine when it comes to building a fieldwork camp.”
“When that child wants to move mountains, she goes straight for the dynamite.”
In the distance, Quint heard a lowthwump-thwump-thwump. He searched the sky above the trees. “You hear that?”
“Finally.” Juan breathed a sigh of relief. “The sweet sound of a quick trip back to civilization in an emergency.”
They both stood up to watch the small dot in the east grow larger. Juan waved up at Pedro when he hovered overhead, and then he retreated into the trees for protection, grabbing Quint’s shirt sleeve and pulling him back, too.
Quint shielded his face as the helicopter lowered to the ground, the winds kicking up pieces of the leaf and twig flotsam left over from their slashing. Then the whirling blades slowed, and the engine whine quieted until all was silent, including the surrounding jungle.
The moment of peace lasted for a few heartbeats before the jungle roared back to life, starting with the monkeys—both the barkers and the howlers. The birds followed, tweeting and shrilling, bringing the volume of life under the canopy back to an ear-bending level.
The passenger side door of the helicopter opened and a petite woman with short silver hair popped out—Daisy!
Full of smiles and her own brand of sunshine, she ducked in spite of the stopped blades and hurried their way.
“I’m happy to see you both again so soon!” she said, hugging Quint and then Juan.
It had only been a few weeks since they’d all left the last dig site, but with the hours and hours of hard work of late, it felt longer to Quint.
Daisy’s smile stayed on Angélica’s father for a few beats, before her blue-eyed gaze returned to the helicopter. “Pedro and I brought some beer on ice from Cancun to celebrate our reunion.”
Quint almost drooled. “Daisy, when you say things like that, I fall more in love with you.”
She laughed. “It was Pedro’s idea.”
Quint looked past her, watching the man of the hour open up the helicopter’s cargo door. Pedro looked more like a surfer fresh off the waves than a helicopter pilot with his Bermuda shorts, faded red T-shirt, and wind-ruffled black hair. Although his combat boots ruined the beach bum look.
“I’ll be sure to shower the flyboy with hugs and kisses after I’ve downed a cold beer,” Quint told her.
Pedro helped their other guest out of the helicopter, steadying Dr. Fernel, who’d come dressed for a safari in a beige getup covered with pockets from head to boots. A matching safari hat with neck flaps hanging around the geoarchaeologist’s face completed the look.
