Exotic #02 - The Hieroglyphic Staircase (15 page)

Dominic said nothing. She wondered what was going on in his head. He was following the conversation but he didn’t look happy.

“I’m concerned for your safety,” he said at last.

That’s why he didn’t look happy.

Doña
Carolita put a glass of chilled papaya juice before Elena and refreshed the other glasses. Elena toyed with the glass and studied Dominic. The gruesome death of the director concerned her, but she had never felt physically threatened by events. Not like the employees who didn’t show up to work.

“I don’t see any danger,” she said. “What do you think can happen?”

“I think we all agree that something sinister is going on out there. You may be in real danger if you take his place.”

Dominic held up his hand when Elena tried to interrupt.

“Hear me out. The murderer of the stranger you found is still at large, maybe tied to the director’s demise. My gut tells me there’s a pretty clever group of people behind all this. Stealing the hieroglyphs may be the tip of the iceberg. These people don’t stop at thievery, they kill. That’s what concerns me.”

“He’s right, Elena,” Susanna said. “You need to be careful. Maybe you should reconsider the job. This is too dangerous. I think you should come back home with me and take the rest of the summer off.”

Elena sipped the juice and thought about what they said. She hadn’t felt seriously threatened. The ghost she thought she saw spooked her more. Dominic’s concern touched her. But she still saw herself as a neutral bystander, not involved in whatever stakes were in this game. A week of fielding questions from reporters and keeping the Museum open so that things could get back to normal wouldn’t hurt. She couldn’t imagine leaving and spending the summer with her mother.

She made up her mind. “I’m not leaving. I’m taking the job. Dominic, I appreciate your concern, and I promise I’ll be careful. I’m not afraid, and I do want to help.”

Dominic said, “I understand about helping. I feel the same way with the clinic. But please be careful and don’t take unnecessary chances.”

“I promise,” she said. “Not to change the subject, but I’m hungry, is anyone else?”

“Not me, thank you,” said
doña
Carolita. “I go to care for my sick friend now.” She rose and started clearing empty glasses from the table.

“I’m game,” said Susanna. “Let’s go to my hotel and have a quiet dinner. Maybe the news people have given up.”

Dominic rose. “I’ll check and see.”

Elena’s mother put her hand over her daughter’s. “You will be careful, won’t you?” she said. “I’m always nervous when you do your field work, do you know that?”

Elena smiled and nodded. “It’s pretty obvious from the instructions and advice you load me down with every time I leave, although I’ve been on my own for years. You know, I am a grown woman.”

“I do? You are?” Susanna smiled her Loretta Young smile. “I guess I didn’t realize it. Or don’t want to face it. I’m sorry if I come across as overbearing at times, dear. You’re my only daughter, and I know you can handle your life quite capably without me. Still, I have to give advice, or I wouldn’t be a mother, would I?”

Elena laughed. “It wouldn’t be you without thousands of operating instructions and tips and advice and books to read and people to meet, food to eat, clothes to wear.”

Susanna laughed, too, and patted her daughter’s hand. “You know me so well. I should butt out, but I can’t. You seem so young and vulnerable to me.” She paused. “Dominic is a good man, and I’ve only known him for an afternoon. How long have you known him?”

“Three days.”

Susanna’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “So short a time. You seem comfortable with each other. Maybe something lasting is in the making for you two.”

“Dominic has become a pillar for me over these trying few days. But, please, no matchmaking. That’s not in the cards for this career lady.”

“All right, dear. Let’s see to dinner.”

They met Dominic in the living room, coming in from outside. “No one in sight, I’m happy to say. Maybe the news people have gone to dinner. Let’s drive to the hotel. This is going to be a real special evening, having dinner with not one but two beautiful women.”

Elena could see her mother melting over Dominic’s complimentary words. But she didn’t need any more complications.

* * * * *

Susanna retired soon after dinner, but Dominic and Elena lingered over coffee. They were seated in an alcove of the dining room located on the second floor of the hotel overlooking the pool area. Underwater lighting in the pool below accentuated the soft blue of it and made dim outlines of tables with umbrellas scattered to one side of the pool area. A Jacuzzi with splashing waterfall added a tropical note to the setting.

“Elena, promise me you’ll be careful with this new assignment. I hate to keep after you about your safety, but I’m really concerned. You don’t think you might be a target, but by being involved in all three, the thefts, the murder, the suicide, makes you vulnerable. I’d hate to see anything happen to you.”

She smiled. “Me, too. I promise. I’ll report for duty tomorrow morning and see what happens. I don’t think I’ll have much of a staff. Maybe I’ll be cleaning floors. Who knows? I’m sure it won’t be long before the minister has someone else in place.”

“I hope so,” he said, but somehow he still wasn’t convinced. “Miguel and Gordo still missing worries me. I hope the people behind this aren’t looking for them.”

“Me either. Should we send out a search party?”

Dominic half smiled. “That might not be a bad idea. I’m going to talk to some of the townspeople and see if someone can check on the bridge more often, put some kind of word out that I need to see the boys.”

“Good idea,” she said. “I can ask around at the Museum. Diego in the gift shop is good at keeping up on gossip. I’ll ask him.”

“Good. Now we should go,” he said. “You’ve a big day tomorrow.”

But she didn’t move to get up. She seemed as reluctant as he to leave the intimacy of their quiet interlude together. Before he could act on his suggestion, from the corner of his eye he caught someone approaching.

“My, what a cozy setting we have here. You two seem to be enjoying each other’s company.”

“Hello, Felicia,” he said, trying to keep his voice neutral. “How are you?”

“I’m busy on my next fundraiser. We’re looking for more money for your medical clinic. I’ve been leaning on some of my sources.”

A man walked up behind Felicia and grasped her arms, looking over her shoulder at Dominic and Elena.

“Jack, meet my friend, Nicky, and, I’m sorry I forgot your name,” said Felicia, glancing at Elena.

“Elena,” said Dominic.

“Yes, Elena,” Felicia said.

Jack was a big, balding man with cheerful blue eyes and parted teeth. He put out his hand to Dominic.

“A pleasure. I understand you’re helping at the new clinic. Felicia’s been talking about you.”

They shook. Elena nodded.

“C’mon, babe,” said Jack to Felicia, steering her toward the door. “We’ve got to get to our next party. The night is young yet.” He winked at Dominic and Elena. “Nice meeting you.” He fairly pushed Felicia out the door before she said anything else.

“I wonder where she picked him up,” said Elena.

“He’s one of the ex-pats I’ve seen around. He shows up every so often. He showed up just in time to be snagged by Felicia. Lucky man.”

He rose and held out his hand. “It’s time I dropped you back at your house.”

Twelve

Diego cradled the phone against his ear. “Have you found the kid yet?” he asked the person on the other end. “No? Me neither. Things are in turmoil here with the director dead. The whole town is scared to death. That’s a good thing. I can’t talk now. Someone’s come into the shop. I’ll contact you later when I know something.”

* * * * *

Elena showed up at the Museum around nine the next morning, dressed in olive toned slacks and a simple sleeveless knit top in a lighter shade. A scooter taxi had dropped her at the Museum, but it remained closed, and she still had no key. She circled the building looking for someone to let her in, but not even Armando was in appearance.

She headed to the visitor center, found the gift shop door open, and Diego inside on the phone. He hung up when he saw her and came over to say hello.

“Wow, Elena, you look gorgeous as ever. Are we going out on a date?”

She smiled and shook her head. “No, of course not. It’s too early in the day, and you’re too young for me. Actually, I’m looking for keys to open the Museum. Would you have a set?”

He frowned. “You want to go into the Museum after all that nasty business with the director?”

She nodded. “The Minister of Antiquities called and asked me to serve as acting director until he can get someone in place. I told him I would, but I have no keys. No way to get in. I thought you might have been entrusted with a set.”

Diego chewed the inside of his cheek. “I have a box of keys in my office. The Museum keys should be there. I’ll look for you.”

He returned with a small box of keys. “We’re in luck.” He dangled a set before her. “I think these are the Museum keys. I’ll go along to help you. I’m not sure which ones fit since I never have cause to enter the Museum after hours.”

He led the way out of the shop and along the path that Armando usually swept.

“Diego, have you seen any of the little boys that come around the Park, the orphan ones that live under the bridge?”

He stopped mid-step and his open Mayan features turned inscrutable. “No, why do you ask? Are they lost?”

“No, they aren’t lost,” she said. “I just haven’t seen them in the last day or two, and I worry about them. I give them food sometimes.”

She wasn’t going to share with him the real reason she was looking for them. She liked him but that didn’t mean she trusted him.

“I haven’t seen them around, but if I do, I’ll let you know.”

They stopped before the Museum entrance, which was padlocked. Diego hummed a salsa ditty as he tried the keys on the first ring without success. On the second ring he hit pay dirt on the outside lock and moved around the ring again searching for one that would open the deadbolt on the inside door. It gave way on the last key.

“Here you are,” he said, opening the door to the cool interior.

She stepped across the threshold and shivered involuntarily, running her hands up and down her arms.

“Cold?” he said.

“No, it’s just kind of spooky.”

“It is rather grim. Let’s throw on some lights. That will help.”

He found the light panel beside the door and experimented with the switches. Spots came up that illumined the individual stela.

“That’s better,” she said. “Thanks. That cheers things up.” But she had the eerie feeling all those Mayan heads were watching her, waiting for answers.

“Would you like help with anything?” asked Diego, hovering too close. He kept tossing the keys in the air, leering at her. He didn’t seem to get that she wasn’t interested.

Elena shook her head and walked further on, looking around the hall dominated by the Rosalila temple. The natural light from the open roof burnished the rosy hue of the structure.

“Sounds kind of hollow in here,” Diego said, coming up close behind her. “You should put up curtains and arrange for carpets.”

“Very funny, Diego,” she said, not laughing. “I don’t think I’ll need anything else. You go on. But thanks for letting me in. I’ll take the keys, so I can lock up when I leave. It doesn’t look like anyone is coming in today.”

She held out her hand for the keys. She wanted to get busy with her new job. There was investigating to do.

“Okay, here.” He dangled the ring of keys over her hand then dropped them. “I’ll be in the gift shop if you need me.” He gave her a wink and chucked her under the chin, then sauntered away along the stone path to the gift shop.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Latin machismo was beyond belief at times.

She pushed the entrance gate open wide and turned the “
Cerrado
” sign to “
Abierto
”. That was a start. She gazed around the interior of the building.

The director’s corner office had yellow tape stretched across the door. She was itching to look through the desk drawers to see if there might be any clues as to why the director took his own life. She shivered again. An unholy draft seemed to be flowing through the gallery. Hopefully, the ghosts had stayed home today.

First, she’d do a fast check of the galleries to make sure everything was in order. Then she would have a go at the director’s office. She toured all the galleries, finding spotlights and turning them on, checking to make sure that everything was in order and clean. The maintenance crew did a good job on a daily basis of keeping the rooms immaculate. The terrazzo floors shone, the exhibit glass sparkled, not a mote of dust rested on any of the intricate curves and creases of the sculptures and stelae of Mayan kings and gods.

The hush of the Museum put her on edge. The echo of her footsteps followed her around the galleries. She was not accustomed to the creaks and groans of the place. At every new sound she’d start and look around, trying to determine the source of the noise. What if the director’s death hadn’t been suicide? What if he had been murdered? Was she a target?

Stop it. Just stop it. You’re working yourself into a tizzy. To prove to herself that she wasn’t afraid, she started toward the director’s office. Time to tackle his desk to see what sense she could make of his mysterious death. She stopped before the yellow tape, saw it was fastened with adhesive and peeled it away with a flourish, sticking the end to the opposite door frame.

That was a brave move.

She turned the door knob. It opened easily. It had not been locked. A cool rush of air brushed past her, and she wrinkled her nose. She tried not to think about the source of the sour smell that still lingered in the room. She pushed the door further open, slowly, slowly, not sure what to expect. The hinges creaked, and the sound echoed hollow in the stillness. Goosebumps covered her arms.

One baby step in. Halt. Her gaze swept the desk with not a scrap of paper on top, the wood polished to a shine. The shelves behind were still lined with books. The single phone sat on the desk. The floor was spotless. She said a simple prayer of thanks to all the Mayan gods that she didn’t have to clean up.