Canyon of the Sphinx (33 page)

The plane landed in Cancun, the
very same airport that Kathlyn had used. The air was steamy as she made her way
into the terminal and went through baggage check. She looked like every other
tourist with her designer sunglasses, nice luggage and newly-dyed short red
hair. It was very becoming, she thought. Once she’d passed through Customs and
ran the gauntlet of time-share companies trying to solicit her business as she
made her way to the exit, she hailed a cab at the curb. It was a well-used, old
Volkswagon and the driver was more than happy to take her luggage and throw it
in the back. But when she described where she wanted to go, they entered into
intense negotiations for the price. It cost her nine hundred pesos to head to
the border of Mexico and Belize.

The only town near the dig site
was about an hour south. The taxi took her to the small village, a
stereotypical Central American town. The one main street was paved, but there
were no stoplights, only a stop sign at the main intersection. Off to the left,
on the slight rise, was the clinic where Kathlyn had suffered through the first
few days of her snakebite. Jensen knew all of this as she observed the town,
noting that the hospital had a new sign out front. Probably a donation from the
Trent Foundation, Jensen presumed. She was sure the Family Machine had rewarded
the clinic well for their assistance.

The only hotel in town was a
one-story, bungalow-type of structure near the edge of town. She didn’t have a
reservation, but they didn’t have any guests, so she had her pick of rooms. It
was small, moist, heated and smelled like mold, but it would do. She didn’t
plan to be here that long as it was. Just another red-headed American tourist
passing through.

Jensen took a long shower to cool
down after her trip. In the morning, she would head to the site and see what
she could see. She wasn’t even sure if Dr. Trent would be here yet, but she
wanted to scope out the surroundings nonetheless.

Seated on the bed with her
bathrobe on, she unzipped her suitcase and laid out some of her things to un-wrinkle
them. She emptied the entire suitcase. Fumbling with the lining, she ripped
open a corner of if, pieces of glue sticking to the fabric where she had
re-glued a previous tear. Probing her long fingers into the space between the
lining and the hard case, she pulled forth a German-made, porcelain Glock 9mm
handgun.

It was a wicked looking thing,
gleaming like a piece of bone in the dim light. Jensen ran her hand over the
shaft, admiring the deadly design. The X-Ray machines at the airport wouldn’t
have picked up the porcelain material, making it quite a convenient weapon.
Even the bullets were special Israeli-made carbon fiber that, when hidden in
her bottle of naproxen capsules, looked like ordinary aspirin pills. Her mother
had bought them for her.

She wasn’t going to kill Dr.
Trent. But if she couldn’t obtain financial gain from the woman one way, she
would certainly get it another. Maybe she could even get some help down here;
poor natives were always looking for a way to make a few extra dollars. And she
would call Mike while she was down here, even though the man had betrayed her.
She still didn’t believe he didn’t want a piece of this. He’d wanted a piece,
once.

Her cause had become more than
simply extorting money; it had become much more some time ago. Mike hadn’t been
far off when he’d accused Jensen of being obsessed. Now it was the principal of
the thing. For once, Jensen Elder was going to win at something. Where her
inept mother had failed her entire life, she wouldn’t.

She was going to win big.  But
first she had a phone call to make.

Her cell phone was, surprisingly,
getting reception this far into the jungle. It was spotty, but it was there. 
She hit the speed dial and the phone rang six times before someone answered.

“Hullo?”

Jensen smiled at the familiar
voice.  “I forgive you for ratting on me. I know Trent and her hotshot brother
had you cornered. I just want you to know I’m not mad at you.”

There was a long pause at the end
of the phone. “What are you doing calling me? I told you…”

“I know what you told me. But,
like I said, I forgive you. And I have a proposition.”

“Don’t even start with me. I told
you I was finished with this, dude. I meant it.”

“Even for ten million dollars?”

“Jensen….”

“You may as well listen to me.”

“I don’t want to listen to you.
Where in the hell are you?”

“If you’re not going to listen to
me, what do you care? Let’s just say that I’m not where you are. Maybe I’m
where Trent is going. Maybe I’m not. You’ll never know unless you listen to my
proposition.”

“I can’t even believe you left
the country. What in the hell are you thinking? This is over, Jensen. Done.
Move on.”

On the other end of the line,
Jensen hardened. “No, it’s not over. For either of us. At least hear me out
before you hang up on me.  I swear to God it will be worth your while.”

Mike wasn’t a stupid guy. But he
was pliable. He listened to her.  Then, when she hung up, he made a phone call
of his own.

***

July

Yucatan
Peninsula

Kathlyn, Mark, Otis, Debra Jo,
Larry and Andy were going through Customs at the airport in Cancun. Larry and
Andy kept trying to make a deal with Kathlyn that would allow them to spend the
next three days in the resort town before joining the rest of the team at Dr.
Murphy’s site.

Kathlyn couldn’t help notice that
it was the time of year when all of the schools were out, so the town would be
teaming with young, nubile girls. Larry and Andy were shocked by her suggestion
that they were on a chick hunt, but Otis slapped Andy good-naturedly on the
back of the head and the boys broke into laughter. It had been worth a try.
Kathlyn would have liked to have joined them in the resort town had their
business not been so pressing. She promised them that if there was time at the
end of their two-week contract left over, they’d spend it in the Mexican
Riviera. Her treat.

Since her acquittal, her life was
rolling full steam ahead, more than it ever had. The World of Exploration
Channel had run a marathon of her specials, including the three new ones that
had been on hold pending the outcome of the trial. World Geography Magazine had
run an entire special edition of her articles, chronicling her professional
career from her early days under the wing of Dr. Victor Tyree from Southern
California University to the present moment in the Valley of the Kings. The
first run had sold out and the edition was well into its second print.

It seemed that her school and
network affiliations couldn’t do enough, fast enough. She was hotter than
before. In a relatively short amount of time, she was back on top of the world
from her momentary toppling. She was healthy and she and Marcus were stronger
than ever. It was a good feeling to finally have things going her way again.

After Customs, her group stood at
the curb waiting for Adam in the rickety old truck. It was becoming routine
now, like a home-away-from-home. Overhead, clouds were starting to gather and a
summer storm threatened for the moment. She glanced up, hating the steam, but
excited to be back in action. Standing over her luggage, waiting, she noticed
someone standing next to her. A big, black bag hit the concrete.

“Damn, it’s hot.”

Kathlyn nearly jumped out of her
skin. Marcus stood next to her, gazing casually at the sky.

“I think it’s going to rain,” he
said.

“Marcus Burton!” she gasped.
“What on earth are you doing here?”

He lifted an eyebrow at her as if
she asked a ridiculous question. “The same thing you’re doing here.”

Her mouth was hanging open. “But…
but I just left you at Los Angeles International Airport! How did you…?”

“Get on the same plane as you?
Easy. You were in Coach and I flew Business Class. You never saw me get on the
plane.”

“You did
what
?”

A grin played on his lips. “I
don’t leave for Egypt for another four days. I thought I could spend those days
with you and then fly on to Cairo.”

“But what about the kids?”

“Are you kidding? My mother needs
them right now. They’re the best medicine she could possibly have, at least
until we get settled and figure out what’s going on with the dig.”

Over her shock, she smiled. “So
you came to surprise me?”

 He grinned, shoving his hands in
his pockets. “It wasn’t easy. You wandered up to Business Class to use the
restroom once and I had to cover my face with a pillow so you wouldn’t see me.”

She laughed softly. “You’re
pretty cute, you know that?”

“My wife thinks so.”

“She’s a smart lady.”

A groan came from the troops
behind her. “Jesus, Marcus, kiss her already,” Mark grumbled. “You two are
making me ill.”

Marcus didn’t need to be told
twice. He took his wife in his arms and kissed her sweetly. “Now,” he said.
“Where’s our limo?”

She laughed. “No limo in the
Yucatan. You’ve been spoiled.”

About that time, Adam pulled up
in the beat-up truck that they had all come to know and hate. There was another
one behind him, driven by Kimberly. They bailed out of the trucks to greet
Kathlyn and her crew, Kimberly going so far as to throw her arms around Kathlyn
like she was a long lost friend. She congratulated her on her court victory and
offered words of support. Kathlyn was genuinely touched.

It wasn’t like the first time
Adam and Kimberly had met them at the airport those months ago. There was no
stress, no hint of viper bites. The second time was much more relaxed, with
chatter all around. The trucks were loaded up with gear and they were soon on
the road to the southwest, heading for the dig near the Belize border.

Kathlyn, Marcus and Adam were in
the first truck, squeezed into the small cab. Larry and Andy, dressed in their
usual costumes including pith hats and khaki shorts, sat in the bed of the
truck holding on to most of the equipment and baggage, while Debra Jo, Mark and
Otis rode with Kimberly in the second truck. The road was just as bumpy as
Kathlyn remembered it, especially with the way Adam drove. In a little under
four hours, they were back in the familiar landscape of the lush, humid Central
American borderlands.

Murphy’s dig didn’t look any
different. It still looked like a third-world village, with dogs in the
driveway and chickens scratching around the lean-to’s. When the trucks drove
up, Murphy emerged from one of the shacks.

He stood in the doorway, wiping
his hands on a rag. He had been working on one of the generator engines, trying
to get it to fire up. He watched the first truck turn around the semi-circular
driveway, almost spilling Larry and Andy from the bed as it rocked back and
forth. Adam brought the vehicle to a jerky halt and threw open his door.
Kathlyn scooted out after him, almost landing on Murphy’s feet; Christopher had
moved too close to the door, too eager to greet his guest.

“Can I give you a hand, Dr.
Trent?” he stuck out a cleaned palm.

She took it. “No, but I’ll shake
it, anyway. How the heck are you?”

“Much better now that you’re
here.” He couldn’t miss the enormous, dark-haired figure climbing out of the
passenger side. Although he was surprised, and a little disappointed, he
remained his usual congenial self. “Dr. Burton, welcome back. You must really
be a glutton for punishment.”

Marcus took off his sunglasses.
“What can I say? You stimulated my curiosity. I had to see the statues for
myself.”

Christopher rounded and truck and
shook Marcus’ hand. They began squeezing each other right away in their normal
greeting ritual until Christopher finally broke down laughing.

“You know,” he said, “I can’t
feel my fingers for a week after I shake your hand. I’m willing to stop with
the strong-arm handshakes if you are. Truce?”

Marcus lifted an oh-so-haughty
eyebrow, though he wasn’t entirely serious. “What’s the matter? Afraid I’ll
break bones?”

“Frankly, yes. I don’t want to
end up a cripple.”

It was the right way to deal with
Marcus. He actually grinned. “Me, either. My knuckles can’t take it anymore,
though I wasn’t going to admit it if you weren’t.”

Kathlyn and Debra Jo walked up
and Christopher flicked his eyes in their direction as if fearful they would
hear them confess their deepest male weaknesses. “Not in front of the women,
Dr. Burton. They might think we’re sissies.”

“Oh, right,” Marcus wriggled his
eyebrows and made an obvious subject change. “Need my help offloading stuff,
sweetheart?”

She shook her head, not noticing
that the two of them had actually been grinning at each other. “No. I have my
lackeys to take care of it. What I’d really like to do is see Site B right
now.”

“I thought you’d say that,”
Christopher said. “We’re ready to go when you are.”