Jungle of Deceit (5 page)

Heck, the
Chronicle
just released him less than two days ago because he refused to recount the events of the museum heist. With Mitch being the only reporter on the scene, the newspaper reveled in their exclusivity, but when he relayed that he saw nothing—that he was unconscious during the heist, the editor didn’t sympathize.

Bottom line was that they had been looking for an excuse to unleash him all along. It was no secret that he was miserable working for the glorified tabloid. If it hadn’t been for Kosovo, he would still be a correspondent. He would still be doing what he loved.

Maybe traveling to the heart of the Guatemalan jungle in search of guerillas was absurdly dangerous, but in these early hours of the morning, trekking alone through the rainforest made him feel alive in a way he had not experienced in years.

“
I’m not particularly concerned who is at fault.” Alex used the throaty inflection that he came to associate as her business voice. “All I’m concerned with is the fact that you’re under my supervision now, and I need to know what I’m dealing with. I need to know if I have a problem here. Did you come here because you failed elsewhere?”

In his periphery, Mitch noticed that he had Alex’s undivided attention. Uneasy under the scrutiny, could his ego allow for her to believe him so inept, or should he defend himself and tell her what really happened in Kosovo?

“
I’ll be honest with you…” It was odd to utter those words and actually mean them. He didn’t think he’d been honest with anyone since that Serb village.

Mitch cleared his throat and continued. “I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t ask to be here. I have no clue what it is you’re up to in the jungle.” The humid air, or Alex’s stare, made breathing difficult. “Phillip Nicholson made me an offer I simply could not refuse.”

A smile toyed with Alex’s lips. “Yeah, that would be Phillip. Persuasion before dignity.”

Persuasion before dignity?

Had the museum director persuaded Alex as well?

“
How well do you know him?” There was no intention on his part to pose the question with a pitch of implication, but regardless, it happened. Mitch awaited the backlash.

An arched eyebrow and a slight pinch of the lips were the only facial reactions. Alex’s words bore a bit more venom.

“
I’m really hoping there was no hidden inference to that question, Mr. Hasslet. Do you want to join the ranks who think I got to this stage in my career on my back?”

Alex sliced him a fiery look, but under those flames, Mitch caught the trace of a wounded animal. It was such a subtle nuance, and yet it twisted around his heart and squeezed like the boa he suspected hung from a nearby tree limb.

“
Yes, Phillip has located most of these digs for me. He’s gone to the extent of hiding projects from more viable outfits, namely my father…” she added bitterly, “−and for what possible reason? For what possible reason would a young woman in this field be rewarded with such opportunities other than—”

Mitch felt the suction of air as Alex surged to her feet. “Come on, we’ve got three hours of hiking yet.” She climbed the embankment with ease.

It wasn’t so easy for Mitch. By the time he actually managed to get to his feet, Alex had disappeared.

“
Hey,” he called. “Hey!”

He climbed to the top of the knoll and saw nothing but the blockade of cedar, a wall that divided light from a lair that could house all of Grimm’s fairy-tale creatures.

“
Alex!”

“
This way.” Her voice startled him as she appeared only several yards away with her hands on her hips. “You start shouting like that and this jungle will be in an uproar. Keep it down.”

“
Yes ma’am.”

Without the pervading sunlight, the temperature dropped and the dense flora made breathing a little easier. Still, with little sleep and traces of his episode on the dock pinching at his muscles, Mitch found it hard to keep up.

“
Hey, wait up.”

Almost imperceptible, Alex’s pace slowed, but the backlash of a branch sprung loose from her body and smacked Mitch in the face.

“
Shit,” he swiped at his sore jaw.

“
Sorry,” she called sweetly and turned around to pin him with a satisfied smile.

Treading backwards, laughing at him, Alex’s boot hit a root. She scrambled for a handhold and latched onto the trunk of a tree, her fingers wrapping around its glutinous veneer.

“
Ugg.” She snapped her fingers, but the jelly-like sap stayed glued to them.

“
Oh dear.” Mitch’s voice rang with sarcasm. “Well, isn’t that just a bitch?”

Alex looked like she was ready to let loose a curse, but she pulled back her shoulders and managed, “I’m glad you are amused.”

She brushed her palm on her shorts and looked up at him. “I’ll remind you about it later as you’re scratching the welts on your arms.”

Mitch glanced down at his forearms. He turned them upside down and the skin looked fine except for a stray bruise or two leftover from the incident on the Hudson.

“
Because I failed to use your ointment?” He was trying to taunt her, but the hoarseness revealed his uncertainty.

To Mitch’s surprise, Alex took her sticky hand and ran it down the length of his arm. The sensation was enough to suspend his breath. He snapped his eyes from that brief contact to meet hers. She was laughing at him.

“
Ironically−” Alex’s voice bore a tantalizing huskiness, “−the diluted sap from these trees is one of the ingredients in my
potion
.”

After the initial reaction to her touch, Mitch stared at the dark hairs on his forearms, finding them slick with the viscous substance. He sniffed at the sweet aroma.

“
Great. Thanks a bunch, Doctor.” He was suddenly too tired to deal with this jungle or this smug creature.

“
I really didn’t mean to imply anything about Nicholson,” he muttered. “My interest is solely about the man himself.”

And that was true. His limited time with the Director of the Museum of Historical Art and Antiquities left Mitch in a tailspin.

“
I mean, Christ, just twenty-four hours ago I had no clue who Nicholson was, and now here I am, searching—”

Whoah!
He caught himself and regrouped. “Photographing a Mayan expedition that I know nothing about.”

Alex’s eyebrow arched and Mitch thought for sure he’d blown his cover.

Well damn. That was too bad. I don’t want to be here anyway.

But something unexpected occurred. Alexandra Langley laughed. Golden hair dipped down her back as the pleasant sound poured from her lips, making the jungle less insidious.

“
What’s so damn funny?”

“
Well, heck, you’re supposedly this savvy war correspondent. Or were,” she added, “and Phillip rendered you as insecure as a teenager.”

Despite being the object of the joke, he grinned. For a tranquil moment, they shared that smile and looked at each other a little too long.

The tiny laugh lines around the corners of Alex’s eyes vanished, and her lips thinned into a dispassionate line. The moment was over.

“
Look−when we get back to camp—” She took a defiant stance with her fists curled up. Or maybe they were glued shut.

“
I just don’t like the idea of the guys thinking about you being alone out here with me this afternoon.” Alex cleared her throat. “I mean, we both know its innocent enough, but these kids, they could blow it all out of proportion.”

Oh, this was good
.

Mitch crossed his sticky arms and tried his hardest not to look smug.

“
And what exactly would they think, Doctor? That just because I’ve been alone in the sultry jungle with a beautiful woman for a couple hours, that I’d have no recourse as a healthy male but to take advantage of the situation?”

He would have given anything to identify the flicker of emotion in Alex’s eyes. Perhaps it was a trick of the peek-a-boo sunlight, but he thought they flared with anticipation. For just the span of a breath, he thought her lips parted on an unsaid word.

When the word remained unspoken, Mitch added, “I wouldn’t dream of it, Miss Langley.”

C
hapter Three

“
No!” he lurched upright.

Red strobes contrasted with the stark interior of his tent to reveal a woman with long black hair sitting in the corner.

One gasp. Another. Soon Mitch began to disassociate the nightmare from the screeching nocturnal pitch of the jungle. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again the woman was gone.

Damn, I hate night sounds.

He considered turning on the flashlight, but the even breathing nearby reminded him that he shared this little canvas hell with Wes and Chuckles. His fingers wrapped around the aluminum cylinder as he hoisted out of the tent into the energetic heart of the jungle.

Night sounds. This jungle was full of them.

Reluctant to flick on the flashlight, Mitch relied on brief flashes of moonlight to aid with his getaway.

He explored the camp with the limited light. What in God’s name was he hoping for—to catch a glimpse of a crate marked with the HAA insignia? If he was successful, Nicholson had promised to use his connections to get him back into a lucrative photojournalist career. Although, if he
was
successful, he didn’t think he’d need the museum director’s influence.

Mitch broadened his circle around the site until he was tucked deep in a thicket of trees, far enough away to risk using the flashlight. He flicked on the beacon and stifled a shout as startled red eyes stared him dead on.

The disturbed kinkajou, a raccoon-like mammal, swung upside down from one of the branches and blinked curiously at Mitch. Recovering from the shock, he continued his loop, careful this time not to lose track of the camp. He only had a few hours until he was scheduled to meet up with Alex.

What was disturbing was how much he was looking forward to that.

***

“
I brought you along this afternoon to take pictures of prospective excavation sites, not to take pictures of
me
, Mr. Hasslet.” Alex berated as she held a hand up to ward off the lens.

“
It’s background data,” Mitch clarified. “You know…pictures of the doctor before she makes her big discovery.”

Mitch saw the arch of her eyebrow. He was getting on her nerves.

“
I appreciate that you have time to goof off,” she addressed him while stooping to view through the optical surveying equipment, “but we’re all busy here.”

“
Hey. I don’t goof off, and I’m busy now too.” He waved his camera.

Alex looked away, but not quick enough that he didn’t catch the flash of disappointment in her eyes.

“
Maybe so, but it’s pretty obvious my discoveries are meager. Not nearly enough to keep you engaged.”

Mitch fell in alongside her, glancing at her cut-off jeans and down to her feet adorned in sturdy hiking boots.

“
I saw this creature this morning.” He thought he would try to distract her from her self-condemnation. “It was a raccoon sort of…”

“
A kinkajou,” she offered. “Can you at least feign focus?”

The rebuke in Alex’s voice made him bristle. “Point taken, Doctor.”

She was in quite the mood this morning and he couldn’t figure what was eating at her. He had been diligent not to get lost and met up at her tent precisely when dictated. So what was the problem?

Focusing through the viewfinder, Mitch watched her while she wasn’t looking and what he saw disturbed him. She looked sad.

“
Fine.” Alex drew up. “Now unless you see anything here worth photographing, we should start back.”

“
Not a problem
, doctor.”

“
I could do without the attitude.”

“
I thought it would make you more comfortable. I mean it
is
the way you communicate, isn’t it?” As sad as she appeared, he wasn’t about to let her take it out on him.

“
Look,” Alex drew in a deep breath. “I’m not going to entertain you. The way it works around here is that you keep up, you participate, or you’re out.”

What was it? The blaze in her eyes? The haughty tone uttered from someone who, deep down, seemed so vulnerable? Whatever the reason, something about her made Mitch lose his cool.

Before he could check his response, he added, “From what people tell me, you sound just like your father.”

She didn’t deserve that. Mitch didn’t even know where the comment came from other than some passing fodder from Wes and Chuck.

Well, it worked, because he was now the sole focus of Alex’s fury.

“
You don’t know my father.” Her voice was husky. “You would have never met him because he only hires professionals. He only hires the best. And you, Mr. Hasslet are someone else’s leftovers. Discarded from job to job, and dumped in this god-forsaken jungle because you screwed up somewhere else.” One steadying breath and she added, “So, just because you’re bitter…don’t take it out on me.”