The Death Relic

32

While Payne and Jones talked strategy, Maria glanced through the artefacts, hoping to find the document Hamilton had gone to retrieve at the time of his disappearance. Before he’d left the bistro, he had claimed that her role in the project would be ‘right up her alley’, but so far everything in the back of the Hummer was foreign to her. Although she could appreciate the intrinsic beauty of the statues and vases, she simply didn’t know enough about the Mayan culture to assess their value. Were they first century? Ninth century? Twelfth century?

Were they from the Yucatán or Belize?

Did the colours and patterns have any significance?

She honestly didn’t know.

To her, it was like trying to learn an ancient language without any kind of primer. If she was given several months and the proper tools, she could probably grasp the basics and reach some general conclusions about the artefacts. But considering the time constraints and her current location, she knew it was an impossible task. So much so that she didn’t take any of the items out of the plastic bags or bubble wrap to examine them. Why risk damaging them if there was nothing to gain?

About the only thing that made sense to her was a map of the region. She found it folded up and stuffed next to the centre console. Three places had been circled, all of them known for their Mayan ruins: Tulum, Cobá and Chichén Itzá. She didn’t know if Hamilton had been to the sites or hoped to visit them, but at least it was something.

Frustrated by her lack of success, she sat on the back bumper of the Hummer and tried to recall her conversation with Hamilton. She figured if she thought about it long enough, she might remember an important fact that had slipped her mind. Maybe a hint about his predicament, or a subtle clue about her role in things. Ultimately, that’s what bothered her the most — not knowing why she was there. Why, after being in the field for several weeks, had Hamilton picked up the phone and reached out to her? Why was he willing to fly her halfway round the world and put her up in a five-star hotel? What did she bring to the table that no one else could?

Maria rubbed her eyes in thought.

Despite her youth and inexperience, she had an impressive résumé that put most others to shame. While working with her professor, Dr Charles Boyd, they had discovered the Catacombs of Orvieto and revealed evidence that gave the academic world new insights into the life of Tiberius, the second emperor of Ancient Rome. When these discoveries were brought to light, she had been labelled a rising star in the academic community, someone who had done a great deal at a very young age. Coupled with her famous surname — her father had been Italy’s Minister of Antiquities at the time of his death — she was able to take her pick from jobs around the globe.

Instead of cashing in on her sudden fame, she had done the unexpected and returned to England, where she had worked on her thesis and earned her doctorate, all the while trying to run away from the guilt she felt at losing her brother and father in the same adventure that had made her famous. Between remorse, sorrow and all the other emotions that kept her up at night, she found herself avoiding society and all the amazing opportunities available to her. Subconsciously, she did it to punish herself for their deaths. It felt wrong to capitalize on a situation that had caused her family irreparable harm, even though she wasn’t personally to blame. Unfortunately, the mind is a tricky thing, and somewhere deep inside her conscience she was still struggling with the events that led to their demise.

Ironically, some of the same emotions she’d felt in Orvieto had resurfaced with Hamilton’s disappearance. After years of avoiding team projects, she had finally decided to get back in the game with a working vacation, but less than an hour after meeting and bonding with her new boss, her world was turned upside down once again.

He was missing.

She was in danger.

Yet somehow she felt responsible.

It didn’t matter that Hamilton had kept secrets from her about the project, his team and all the weapons he had in his Hummer. All she could focus on was the reason for his disappearance. In her mind, it all boiled down to one thing. If he hadn’t driven to Cancún to meet her, none of this would have happened. Hamilton would still be a free, and …

Wait a minute! That was it!

Hamilton had driven there to meet her.

She hopped off the back bumper of the H2 and rushed to the front passenger door. A few seconds later, she was digging through the glove compartment, looking for Hamilton’s rental agreement. Payne and Jones noticed her excitement and came over to investigate.

‘What are you looking for?’ Jones asked.

‘Hamilton’s paperwork.’

He reached into his cargo pocket. ‘I have it right here.’

‘May I see it?’ she asked.

‘Of course.’

She glanced at the paperwork. It was divided into two columns. Spanish on the left; English on the right. She was fluent in both, but felt far more comfortable with English, so she concentrated on the right-hand side. When she didn’t see what she was looking for, she flipped to page two, then to page three. Finally, towards the bottom of page four, she spotted the elusive piece of information. ‘No! That can’t be right.’

Payne stared at her. ‘What can’t be right?’

‘Cancún! How can it be Cancún?’

‘I have no idea. Then again, I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

She looked at him. ‘During my conversation with Hamilton, he said he’d driven to Cancún for our meeting. I asked him where he’d come from, and he was a bit vague. He told me his team was less than a hundred miles from here.’

‘Good to know.’

‘I was hoping this agreement would list the town where he rented the vehicle, and that would narrow our search even further. But he rented the vehicle here.’

‘In Cancún?’ Payne asked.

‘Yes! He rented it here.’

Jones nodded his head. ‘I know.’

‘You know? How do you know?’ she demanded.

‘Because I looked at the agreement about an hour ago. I would have been happy to tell you if you had been a little nicer to me, but you were too busy being Nancy Drew for me to get a word in.’

Payne glanced at him. ‘Was Nancy Drew mean? I don’t remember her being mean. Sexually frustrated, yes. Maybe even a lesbian. But definitely not mean.’

Jones shook his head. ‘She wasn’t a lesbian. I can tell you that. I’m pretty sure she banged the Hardy Boys.’

‘Wait! The Hardy Boys weren’t gay? I thought they were married.’

‘No, they were brothers. Not husbands.’

‘I’ll be damned. All this time I thought they were gay.’

Jones stroked his chin in thought. ‘Unless …’

‘Unless, what?’

‘Maybe they were lesbians.’

She slammed the glove compartment shut. ‘OK! I get it. I was mean to both of you, and I should have told you what I was thinking instead of bossing you around. I promise I won’t let it happen again.’

Jones ignored her tone and opted to move on. ‘Somehow I doubt that, but I’ll let it slide for now, if only to get back on task.’

‘Thank you.’

He continued. ‘So, while you were playing detective, did you happen to notice the date of the rental agreement?’

She glanced at the paperwork. ‘No, why?’

‘He rented the vehicle a few weeks ago, which leads me to believe that he wasn’t lying to you. He probably did drive to Cancún for your meeting.’

She spotted the date on the contract and nodded in relief. It was one thing to keep secrets from her. It was quite another if he’d been lying. ‘Good.’

‘Now all we have to do is figure out where his team is.’

Payne spoke up. ‘A hundred miles is a reasonable distance to search, especially since we’re against the coast. That eliminates half of our search grid right away. No need to go east.’

Jones nodded. ‘That’s true.’

‘Plus, I have Randy running down his financials. If he stopped to buy gas or supplies with a credit card, we’ll be able to narrow our focus even more.’

‘When will he call?’

Payne shrugged. ‘Depends on the world. As long as nothing major happens in the next few hours, I’m sure we’ll hear from him today. If something comes up, who knows?’

‘Fuckin’ world. Always screwing things up!’

‘Don’t I know it.’

She looked at them, concerned. ‘We aren’t going to wait, are we? I mean, can’t we start the search without Randy’s information?’

Jones nodded. ‘We could, but we don’t know which direction to go in. And even if we did, we wouldn’t know what to look for since we don’t know anything about Hamilton’s team. Are they men, women, old, young, white, Hispanic? Heck, we don’t even have a headcount.’

‘That’s true,’ she said, ‘but we do have his car. He’s been driving around in this thing for a few weeks now. Maybe someone will recognize it.’

Payne glanced at the vehicle. The H2 had a distinctive look. Much larger than most vehicles he had seen in Mexico, it also had extra-long running boards and a roof rack that was large enough to accommodate a steamer trunk. To handle the rugged terrain, the H2 was equipped with oversized tyres and a snorkel that allowed it to ford streams without drowning out the engine. Throw in the maroon colour and it was pretty much guaranteed to stand out to the locals, especially in the poorer villages that dotted the region. From his duties at Payne Industries, he knew the average income in Mexico was roughly a third of the income in America, which was why so many companies looked for workers south of the border. Less money meant fewer luxury purchases, so the odds were pretty good that there weren’t many new Hummers being driven around the Yucatán.

He nodded. ‘She does have a point. This vehicle certainly stands out.’

Jones considered their logic. Although he viewed it as a long shot, he liked the fact that Payne and Maria had agreed on something. In his mind, that was almost as important as finding a clue. ‘That’s fine with me. If you want to take a road trip, I’m willing to come along. Of course, we still need to pick a direction.’

She held up the map of the region. ‘I found this wedged next to the driver’s seat. Three Mayan sites are circled on it. If we’re lucky, maybe Hamilton visited them. If we’re really lucky, maybe he talked to some of the experts at the sites.’

Payne shrugged. ‘Couldn’t hurt to look — unless we’re talking about a ten-hour drive. My ass can’t handle that.’

‘No,’ she assured them, ‘all of them are close. Less than a hundred miles away.’

‘Works for me. Where are we headed first?’

She tapped on the circle to the south. ‘We’re going to Tulum.’