Don't Look Back (9 page)

Jay’s booming voice came audible, even from across the courtyard: “Let’s do that balloon thing again.”

Eve turned the cardboard box of the camera in her hands, squinting to make out the button for the flash. That would probably yield no more than a starburst of bleached-out stone. She needed something fancier, with night vision.

Of course.

She slid her hand down her thigh, finding the hard edge of Theresa Hamilton’s camera, still zipped into her cargo pocket. Working it free, she thumbed it on.

It powered up to show Theresa’s self-portrait at the Mexico City airport. The glow of the screen illuminated a faint sphere around Eve’s hands, and she noticed to her side a change in the consistency of the darkness.

A bulky form.

It shifted.

Eve’s breath tangled in her throat.

A hand became visible, closing over the screen, drawing the camera and the sphere of light to a broad chest. The upthrown light caught a strip of mottled throat and jaw.

“Hello, sister.”

Chapter 12

The words came on a puff of sweet breath. Square teeth glinted around a chewed twig.

Eve swiveled toward the mouth of the passage but he swept around her, impossibly fast, impossibly light-footed. A bulky arm leaned against the wall, eye level, blocking her.

They stood in the last band of full shadow.

Beyond the man she could see the group way across the courtyard, now at the temple, pointing and taking pictures and spreading out to explore. His free arm swayed at his side, meaty fist encasing the camera, though he paid it no regard. He hadn’t so much as glanced at the screen, or he would have seen Theresa Hamilton’s face, and something inside Eve told her that that would be very, very bad.

The man flicked his head to indicate the group over his shoulder. “You are here. On a trip.”

His English was good, the accent not obvious enough to place.

She nodded, not yet trusting her voice.

“And those are your friends?”

He studied her, waiting. His lips pursed, shifted to one side. He held up the camera by its strap, letting it spin between their faces. Theresa Hamilton, rotating round and round. His steady gaze was not on the little screen but on Eve. A flick of the eyes and he’d see Theresa’s photograph; he’d note the connection. Pinching the strap, he lowered the camera. Eve reached for it, but he tugged it up.

A game.

“The big man,” he said. “With the hat. What is his name?”

She fought to keep her voice from wavering. “Why do you want to know his name?”

“Sister, do not question me this way. Lower your eyes.”

She stared at him, too shocked to comply. Keeping the bar of his arm in place, he shifted his feet and leaned in slowly as if to kiss her, bringing his brown-black eyes inches from hers. Even over the musk of the tunnel, she could smell the sweat on him.

A hiss of breath.
“Lower your eyes.”

She obeyed. Her lips jerked with emotion. “Get out of my way.” Though she tried to put her full force behind the words, they came out sounding strangled. “Let me go.”

She kept her gaze level with his chin, but still she could see the teeth appear around the twig. His body remained in place, his nose nearly touching hers. Past his locked elbow, she watched the others vanish around the side of the temple, and she choked down an incipient sob.

“What do you want?” she said.

“I want to be left alone.”

“Me, too.”

“You say that. Americans. But you
impose
yourselves.” He’d not so much as raised his voice.

She had no idea what was going to come next, but the drumbeat of terror in her gut warned that it would not be good.

“Eve!”

Across the courtyard by the temple, Lulu had stepped into sight, facing away at the jungle, cupping her hands around her mouth.

The man’s head snapped around, and his body slackened, only for an instant. Eve snatched the camera from his grasp and ducked past his still-braced arm, her shoulder skimming the stone. Breathing hard, she shot free of the catacomb and ran across the plain of the ball court, ruins looming overhead. She heard no footsteps behind her.

But she didn’t look back.

Chapter 13

“Yes, the same guy. With the burned face. The one I
asked
you about.” Standing at the rubbled base of the temple, Eve did her best not to yell. She kept a nervous eye on the sunken courtyard and the catacomb across it.

Lulu and Neto regarded her with concern. The others were still off exploring. Warmth tingled beneath the surface of Eve’s skin. The man had angered and terrified her in the tunnel, sure, but worse, he’d made clear her helplessness before him, and that felt like the biggest violation of all.

“Did he threaten you?” Neto asked.

“He
blocked
me.”

“Did he touch you?”

“I didn’t feel safe, okay?” Her words seemed to vanish into the white noise of the jungle.

“So he
said
something dangerous?” Lulu asked.

“No, but his body language and manner—”

“Some people are not comfortable with locals,” Neto broke in helpfully.

“He’s not a local,” Eve said. “And it wasn’t that. I’m a woman. I know when I’m being threatened.”

A pause, punctuated by the distant shriek of a laughing falcon.

Lulu shot her husband a glance. “We need to take this seriously.”

“I
am.
” Neto mopped at his forehead. “I just searched the tunnel. No one is there.” He turned back to Eve. “From now on, keep with the group. Do not wander off anymore.” His mustache glistened with sweat. “I understand you were made uncomfortable. But let’s not tell the others yet.”

“Why not?” Eve said.

“We don’t want to frighten everyone if we don’t have to,” Neto said.

“Then tell me who he is.” Eve tried to put force behind her voice, but to her ears it still sounded reedy. “You don’t expect me to believe you’ve never come across him.”

Neto blew out a breath, a dark corkscrew of hair floating up, then drifting back down over his forehead. “He is just some guy, okay? Who lives in the jungle. No, he is not local, and no, he is not friendly. But he is not
un
friendly either.”

She caught Lulu looking at Neto and read in her face that some of this was news to her as well.

“Then why are the
indígenos
afraid of him?” Eve asked.

“The
indígenos
pray to snakes and marry crocodiles! Who knows what scares them and why! We all leave this man alone, and he leaves us alone. There’s never been a problem.”

The strange man’s words returned, an echo in Eve’s head:
I want to be left alone.

Lulu put a reassuring hand on Eve’s arm. “Let’s make sure you feel
safe,
” she said. “That’s what’s important.”

Eve could hear the others approaching now, rustling through fallen leaves, their words a low murmur. Sue came into sight at the clearing’s periphery, birding binoculars pressed to her ruddy face. Harry trailed her, swigging from a canteen, halting to test the strength of a vine. Vacation fun.

Eve returned her focus to Neto. “He asked about Jay.” Instinctively, she had lowered her voice, already—she realized—assenting to Neto’s directive.

“What did he ask?” Neto asked.

“Just … who he was.”

“Please, Eve.” Concerned, he rested a hand gently on her arm. “This is nothing. Why ruin everyone’s vacation with worry?”

Because it might not be safe for them.

Because they have a right to know.

Because I’m fucking
scared.

Jay and Will appeared from behind a crumbling mound of stone, Jay cracking a joke, Will giving him a healthy shove in response. In seconds they’d be within earshot.

Eve opened her mouth to reply. Closed it.

The dilemma drove home her
singleness.
She missed having Rick to rely on, missed making decisions in tandem. Being the sole authority wasn’t just tough, it was at times frightening. She had certainly proved—in parenting and in other matters—that she was equal to the task. But then something unforeseen would smash her sense of competence to pieces. Like a man breathing down on her in a dark tunnel.

Drawing near, Will noted Eve. His smile faded. “Everything okay?”

“Yes,” Lulu said, pivoting with a high-wattage smile. “Everything’s
fine.
”

*   *   *

Will held Theresa Hamilton’s camera, scrolling through the pictures. Jay loomed behind him, peering over his shoulder at the screen. Eve, too, kept her feet, facing them in the cool of their hut. It was the kind of news best faced standing.

She watched their expressions darken by degrees until they must have reached the end, because Will lowered the camera and the three of them regarded one another heavily. As soon as they’d returned from the excursion to the ruins, she’d made the decision to bring them into her confidence despite the pressure from Neto and Lulu. She’d recounted her run-ins with the strange man, Theresa’s rapid departure, and the various reactions elicited from the Días Felices Ecolodge™ staff.

“I had the camera
out
when the guy stopped me in the catacombs,” she said. “Right in my hand. If he’d just lowered his eyes, he’d have seen it.” She took back the camera, shook it for emphasis. “These pictures show that he probably did something bad to that
indígena
lady—and that Theresa Hamilton was onto him. And if he saw that
I
saw the pictures, then.…” She faded off, the chill of the near miss tightening her skin.

Will whistled, paced a circle, running his fingers through his hair. His shirt was still drenched from the excursion to the ruins, pasted to his body, showing ridges of muscle. Jay drew himself to his full height, cracking his neck like a boxer, seeming to fill the space beneath the thatched roof. They were two able-bodied men, and Eve was glad for that.

“The man with the hat,” Will said. “That’s who he asked about.”

Jay pulled off his Seattle Mariners cap and regarded it as if it had something to say.

“I think he caught a glimpse of me from the bottom of the canyon,” Eve said, “just before I ducked behind the log.”

“You were wearing Jay’s hat,” Will said, putting it together. “That’s all the guy saw. The hat.”

“So he thought
I
was spying on him,” Jay said. “Well, that’s good.”

“Why’s that good?” Eve asked.

“He doesn’t think you were spying on him, so you’re okay. He’s worried about
me.
”

“Okay, great,” Eve said. “But so am I.”

Jay offered a dark grin. “I grew up gay in Yakima, Washington. I can take care of myself.”

“What do you think he wants?”

“Like you said, he probably thought he was being watched,” Jay said. “If someone was watching
me,
I’d want to know why. Especially if I was up to sketchy shit, hurting people, whatever, and someone else had already found out about it. I’d be paranoid, too.”

“The guy followed us to the ruins, Jay,” Will said. “You’d better keep your head on a swivel.” He turned to Eve. “And we’ll keep an eye on you, too. Just in case.”

She nodded a few times, quickly. Needing them made her feel weak, but she couldn’t deny that having their support was comforting. “Why do you think Neto and Lulu are being so defensive?”

“Their business runs on people staying happy,” Jay said. “The last thing they need is a bunch of freaked-out people going home and posting warnings on TripAdvisor.”

“Right,” Will said. “I’m sure Sue wouldn’t exactly take this news in stride. She writes an online review about a psycho near the lodge? Who would ever come here again?”

“Neto’ll be pissed if he finds out I talked to you about it,” Eve said.

“Let him be,” Will said.

But Jay nodded. “We’ll keep it between us.”

A knock on the door surprised them, and Jay lifted Theresa’s camera from Eve’s grasp. He leaned toward her, spoke in her ear. “This is the smoking gun, so better it stays outta your hands. I’ll keep it on me until we can get back to civilization, find Theresa Hamilton, and see what she has to say about all this.” Sliding the phone into his pocket, he turned to the door. “Come
in.
”

Fortunato poked his head into the room tentatively. “I sorry. I looking for you, Señora Hardaway. I fix dish for you. You can to make Internet now.”

Eve checked her watch—six o’clock in Los Angeles, Lanie cooking dinner, Nicolas practicing trumpet. “
Gracias,
Fortunato.”

He withdrew silently. Eve heard no footfall, but then again she’d heard none coming either.

Eve regarded the two men. “I’m gonna Skype my son,” she said. “But thank you both. I mean it.”

Jay caught her arm gently as she passed. She looked up into his face and saw he was doing his best to hold in a laugh. “Sure you wouldn’t rather stay and listen to Will’s Barbra Streisand albums?”

Smiling despite herself, she stepped out onto the bamboo walkway. Through the closing door, Will’s voice floated, in sotto: “If you weren’t twice as strong as me, I would
so
gay-bash you right now.”

Eve made her way to the admin shack. Fortunato had left the computer on, waiting, and she had to brush a few insects off the glowing screen. As promised, the Internet connection showed full bars, so she logged into Skype and dialed home.

Nicolas’s face suddenly loomed large on the screen, the camera angled up his nose. “See! I told you it was her.”

Lanie, off camera: “So you did.”

A palm wiped out the view momentarily, and then the laptop lid rocked back and forth violently, finally settling on his face. “Mom? Hi, Mom. I can see you.”

“I see you, too. How’d the book report go the second time around?”

“Good. It was about a astronaut. Guess what? Did you know? Did you know there’s a planet”—a peal of laughter—“a planet called Ur
anus
?”

“Indeed I did.”

“Oh.” This deflated him a little. Then: “I miss you, Big.”