Path of the Jaguar (10 page)

"Senorita," spoke a slow, drawling voice from behind her. A small, dark-skinned man in neat uniform addressed her. His eyes were hard and lazy, like the eyes of a jungle lizard.

"I'm looking for Carlos Alfonso."

"You found him." The man's smile was in some hidden way unpleasant. "My office is the first one you passed." His walk was unhurried, slow. He didn't speak again until they were seated across the desk from one another. A hint of a smile still remained on his lips making the thin mustache rise and showing yellowish teeth.

There was something corrupt about his smile, about his manner. Tell him the whole story about Delores? Give over the money to him? It wasn't possible to confide in someone who was looking at her like that.

A shudder ran through her as she imagined Delores or herself confined in this place, dependent upon a man like Carlos Alfonso, who most likely could be bought and sold.

Lennea gazed at the delicate, slightly sharp features of Delores' face, the graceful curve of mouth and black lashes, the stylish set of black hair.

"Has she a record of doing things like this? Not showing up?" Of course she had. Many hours Lennea had waited for her in restaurants, at the student union, happy, in spite of the inconvenience, because Delores was her one solid link to Wesley. And Delores never, ever, kept Wesley waiting. That's why this time everything was different. "She's in serious trouble. Her name is Delores Camille. You've got to help me find her!" Reluctantly Carlos Alfonso drew a paper from his desk and said, "I've forgotten your name."

"Well, if by chance we hear anything about her, I'll give you a call. As I said before, it's way to early for us to become involved. If she hasn't been found..."

"I'm sure she's in Merida."

"Then no doubt she will show up for work soon." His unhurried voice followed her as she moved to the door. "Tell Dr. Hern I'll try to catch his lecture. When is it? Next week?"

Lennea stammered a little, embarrassed that she didn't know the answer.

Carlos Alfonso gave another unpleasant smile. "That's OK. I'll call the university."

Lennea was glad to be out of the police station. She was glad to be hurrying toward Hotel Guerrero. She was anxious to see Sid's family, to be around people she liked and could trust. As she left the police station, she watched for Delores. On either side of the narrow street, facades of buildings blended with one another. Each block seemed a solid wall, an endless row of arches, curved doorways, and oblong windows, behind any of which Delores might be concealed.

"Lennea!"

Joseph stepped out of one of the many doorways, and now fell into step beside her. "Where are you headed? I was just going over to the hotel to see if I could find you."

"I'm going back there now."

"I'll give you a lift," he said, leading her across the street to a horse-drawn carriage that waited along with several others for tourists.

Joseph helped her up and climbed in beside her. It was a relief to be seated, to be shaded from the sun. He said something in Mayan to the driver and the carriage started moving. At the corner the driver turned.

"This is the wrong direction for the hotel."

"I told him we wanted to drive through the park." Joseph leaned back, an arm behind her, but not touching her. "Whoever thought we'd be taking our carriage ride through Merida today?"

He had dressed carefully in a white net shirt and navy trousers. The thin, white shirt exaggerated the width of his shoulders and opening low at the throat exposed thick, dark hair. He wore a ring, too, on his little finger, a silver jaguar with red stones for eyes. The ring fascinated her. "How unusual," she commented. "I've never seen a ring quite like it." "I bought it today. For you." He slipped it on her ring finger, where it fit perfectly. His large hand over hers prevented her from removing the ring. His hand remained tight upon hers as the carriage rolled easily down the street.

"It's beautiful! But you shouldn't..." She did not finish her sentence, but leaned back, lulled by the clump of horses hoofs on pavement. They entered the Centerario Park passing between large arched slabs of stone.

Thick trees covered them with deep shade. The trail led near a lake where a cool breeze stirred. Joseph pointed out to her various birds. "Lots of flamingos here," he said.

She was beginning to relax and enjoy the short reprieve the harrowing day offered.

Joseph was watching her. Lennea's eyes dropped to his lips and she felt stirred by the memory of them against hers. She longed suddenly for his arms to encircle her, to protect and comfort her. But he made no attempt to draw closer.

The carriage swung away from the lake. At Joseph's request the driver stopped near a vendor. Joseph got out and returned carrying ice cream cones. He stopped to speak with the driver in Mayan.

"What did you tell him?" Lennea inquired as Joseph got back into the carriage.

"I told him to take his time getting back to Hotel Guerrero. I told him," Joseph's dark eyes sparkled, "that we're in love."

* * * * *

Chapter Eight

As Lennea slid into the jeep, she first noticed the sack of wood carvings. Frank's eyes strayed to them. "I'm sorry. In all the excitement, I forgot to deliver them."

"It doesn't matter." Irritably Frank tossed the sack into the back seat, as if relieved to have the contents out of sight. "I'll give them to Sid the next time I'm in town. Just don't tell Goldie." He paused. "In fact, let's not tell Goldie about any of this. You know how excitable she can be. And this about Delores is very strange." His eyes had lost their paleness and had become muddy. "Delores is scared to death of someone."

"Sid. Sid would have married Delores if she hadn't stepped out on him. You know Sid. It was all over right then and there. But he'll still do all he can to help her."

"What will he be able to do that we can't?"

"Sid he knows everyone. He'll find her."

Frank's increasing gloom and silence made Lennea grateful to reach the hacienda and Goldie. In orange peasant blouse and multi-colored skirt, Goldie resembled a bright-winged parakeet fluttering about, chirping questions. "How was your trip to town? Did Sid like the carvings?"

Lennea, guiltily quiet, was saved by Frank who teased, "He told me to dump them in the ocean."

"Oh, liar!" Goldie ushered them into the kitchen, which smelled of herb and spice from the brewing tea. "Frank," Goldie said, setting steaming cups before them, "I've planned a dinner party for Saturday!"

"You did what?" Carefully Frank tempered the sharp edge from his voice. "Dinner party, eh? How many people did you invite?"

"I just got off the phone to Neysa. She and Lucas and Sid. Of course I invited Dr. Hern, the guest of honor! And," she glanced at Lennea, "I told him to bring Joseph." Goldie's plotting manner was familiar, reminded Lennea of her sister Val. Lennea looked down at the jaguar ring she wore. Joseph was certain to end up next to Lennea at the dinner, but he, unlike Val's bachelor friends, was in no need of assistance!

"Dr. Hern stopped by this afternoon. That's what really gave me the idea," Goldie said. "He left this letter for you." Lennea had forgotten that she had given her sister Wesley's box number. She felt a surge of homesickness as she recognized Val's large, flowing letters. She hurried to finish the tea so she could go to her room and read.

"Sis, pardon the mess, but Teddy keeps grabbing my pen. Hope all is going well for you out there in the jungle. (Ha!) Dad still thinks you'll get bit by a cobra. (Ha!)

Everyone is fine here. We missed your coming home this summer. Mom and Dad were terribly disappointed, and so was Harold."

Harold was the last in a long line of farm boys Val paraded before her. Lennea's smile lingered as she read on.

"Well, I suppose even in the jungle one has to eat. Because your cooking is so terrible, and because l feel sorry for your poor roommate, I am clipping out this 'no-fail' pie crust recipe I discovered in the last issue of Good Housekeeping."

Nostalgia increased as she lifted the neatly cut clipping.

"Now don't you dare write back and tell me that it failed!"

Lennea felt tears moistening her eyes. She thought about last summer—her father's hints about the nice job down at the Co-op, Val's good-natured kidding, the adoring eyes of Harold the bachelor—and for a moment she wondered why all of that wasn't enough for her.

Three cups of flour, one egg, one teaspoon of vinegar, one and one-forth cup of shortening. Val had underlined shortening; she had always attributed the failing of Lennea's crusts to shortening. Maybe Val was right. About pies. About everything. Lennea stared at the recipe. She would try Val's pie crusts for Goldie's dinner party tomorrow. Baking pies would keep her mind from this dangerous situation with Delores.

Any event that would cause Delores to flee from Lennea had to be crucial, for in spite of a certain lack of closeness between them, Delores had always counted on Lennea's help and protection. Lennea would not have believed Delores' fleeing, her terror, had she not witnessed it with her own eyes.

•

Goldie's baked stuffed fish and vegetable casserole waited in complete perfection on the sideboard. The pies lacked only five minutes. Wesley, always on time, would be the first to arrive!

The sound of the doorbell made Lennea hasten to the kitchen entrance. Nervously her hand went up to her hair, smoothing the straight, blond strands that just brushed the shoulders of her new turquoise dress.

"Good evening, Joseph," she heard Goldie call. Lennea stepped forward and looked expectantly past Joseph into the darkness beyond.

"Dr. Hern sends his apologies," Joseph said, sounding slightly embarrassed. "Something's come up, so he couldn't make it tonight. You know how those things are."

Lennea tried to swallow her disappointment as Joseph's words sank in. The carefully brushed hair, the dangling earrings, her best dress—all for nothing!

Anger filled her. Not for herself, but for the LaTillas. Goldie had planned the whole party just for him. Surely he could tear himself away from his work long enough to honor their invitation. It was cruel! Lennea recalled the many times she had stood in Joseph's place making vague excuses for Wesley's rudeness.

"You're looking lovely tonight," Joseph said. His slightly mocking gaze traveled from the new silver earrings to the dainty white sandals. Humiliation washed over her. He knew she had dressed up for Wesley Hern.

Joseph stood near lighted candles. His white jacket made him look darker, even more handsome. Lennea felt some silly satisfaction. She had dressed for Wesley, but she felt the secret pleasure of knowing Joseph's suit and tie were for her! Goldie intercepted Frank with the news that Wesley wasn't coming. Lennea saw the disappointment she herself had so carefully concealed come to full bloom upon Frank's round, childlike face. Disappointment, but not anger. "He's going to kill himself working so hard! I don't know why he won't take care of himself." Turning to Lennea, he added, "Can't he see he needs one of Goldie's good meals now and then?"

From outside came the sounds of talking, commotion, and laughter. Neysa and Lucas entered carrying food. Sid, looking suave and debonair, followed, one hand carefully hidden behind his back. Goldie approached them, lifting lids and squealing with delight. She eyed Sid, her gaze bright with expectation. "Sid, what do you have hidden from me?"

With the flourish of a magician, Sid extended a silky, golden butterfly on a fragile stem. "Gold for Goldie!"

"Oh, Sid!" The excitement upon Goldie's face reminded Lennea of Alice in Wonderland. Sid laughed, delighted by Goldie's pleasure. The perfect guests, Lennea observed: Sid, so charming; Lucas, so aristocratic with his gleaming white hair and old-world manners; Neysa, in lacy blouse and pink coral necklace, so very gentle.

While Goldie and Frank took dishes into the kitchen, the three, as if accustomed to finding favorite chairs, seated themselves.

"Mother's been giving Dad and I headaches," said Sid, rubbing his forehead with long fingers. To Joseph, he added, "She's been getting those vibrations again."

"We'd better listen to her this time," Joseph responded. "Mother has psychic power," Sid explained to Lennea. He turned to Joseph for reassurance. "We can't doubt that, can we? For days before the last tidal wave, Mother predicted danger!"

Gravely Joseph nodded.

"Messages afloat in the air," said Neysa modestly, "so fine that only a few of us pick them up."

Lennea felt a small shiver go through her. She never liked people to talk about the supernatural. As if sensing her discomfort, Joseph spoke softly to her. "The greatest reality is what we don't see with our eyes. What is this latest message?"