Path of the Jaguar (20 page)

Delores' hair, undone in the struggle, hung wild and disheveled around her face. Her terrible dark eyes stared past Lennea at someone who must have appeared behind them on the trail. A cry emitted from her lips, a shriek of pain and terror.

For a moment Delores appeared frozen, unable to move, then she collected herself, turned and fled off into the jungle. Lennea, stunned, but still with tight hold on the money, watched Delores disappear into the trees.

Lennea felt the skin prickle at the base of her neck. She knew who stood behind her on the trail. Now, alone, she must face him, and she steeled herself.

Once Lennea realized someone was stealing artifacts, she knew Frank LaTilla was involved. She actually pieced everything together as she passed Frank's work shed on the way to the ruins —the shed where he did his pitiful carvings, the coverup for his illegal dealings. She had thought of the diving equipment, the many crates. Robbing the treasures of the ruins was how he managed to live so well in Mexico.

Frank had needed a partner who could do the smuggling, who had contact with Mayan art collectors. Who was better qualified than Wesley Hern's secretary? She thought about Frank's anxiousness to get the map of Tikom, his interest in Wesley's affairs. Delores had fled from Lennea that time in Merida, not because she was afraid of Lennea, but because she was afraid of the man who accompanied her—Frank! As a final assurance, Lennea remembered how Frank had unexpectedly appeared at Tikom the day Wesley had first showed her the well. He must have followed them to the well, tracked their steps.

Lennea turned slowly toward him. Frank looked almost the same, a little dazed, slightly ridiculous in khaki shirt and safari hat. But his eyes were not dull, but brightly cruel. "Give the money to me!" His voice cut into the stillness, curtly, impatiently, the way it had sounded when he talked to Rico's father at his farm.

"She nearly killed Goldie!" He almost sobbed as he brought a hand up to his fleshy face. "My innocent little girl, she almost killed her! Damn her! I'll catch her and when I do..."

"Delores said she was trying to get the money to give to you. That she had never double-crossed you, but you wouldn't believe her." As Lennea talked, she stepped away from him, thinking she, too, might run, the way Delores had.

Frank was much faster than she expected him to be. He lunged forward, his hand barely missing the case filled with cash. She could hear his panting breath and feel it hot upon her face.

He looked cornered. He must protect himself, his lifestyle, Goldie!

Frank was so close to her she could see the mottled cheeks, splotched with pink. Sweat ran in rivulets down his forehead. Beefy fingers reached for the money she held.

Lennea jerked it away. Impulsively she flung it into the sacred well. Both of them, without motion, listened to the sucking plunge as it hit the distant water.

Rage leapt into Frank's eyes. She tried to sidestep, to escape, but strong hands locked on her. He thrust her backward. She felt herself losing her balance, falling, like a weightless rag doll over the cliff. Falling! Falling! Into green, bottomless water!

Water plunged over her head. She went downward with such force she thought she would never again see the top of the pool. Is this how they had felt, the Indians that had been sacrificed here?

She came to the top, sputtering, choking, unable to catch any breath of air, then went under again. Arms and legs that didn't seem to belong to her struggled in panic, wild with frightened motions.

Suddenly, from the top of the cliff, a shout, "Don't fight, Lennea! Listen to me! You must relax and float!"

Was Frank now trying to save her? It wasn't Frank she saw as she responded to the words, as she turned on her back and looked straight up the steep, rock wall.

"Lennea!" Joseph cried. "Keep very calm. You'll be all right until I get back. There's a rope in the jeep. I'm going after it!"

After the stirring of branches, empty, fearful silence followed. Joseph had vanished from her sight. Or had he ever been there in the first place? Had she imagined his face peering down at her, his voice, reassuring her?

Place of death! How many helpless victims had been tossed over the cliff? How many had desperately kept trying to live, in the end, to sink into horrible depths and die?

She kept choking. She had gasped so much of the murky water into her lungs! Joseph, please be real! Please, come back! Please hurry!

Disillusioned by Wesley, used by Delores, deceived by Frank LaTilla, why should she suppose Joseph would not betray her, too? She had been so sure all along Joseph was involved. If he were, then to save her would be to jeopardize himself. Delores, Frank LaTilla, and Joseph! Trio of conspirators! Plotters! At least she wasn't going to die trusting him, blindly believing in another human being!

In terror she felt herself sinking. She began thrashing about, water filling her nose and mouth. Relax! She heard Joseph's voice again, even looked for him among the vines and rocks. "Float, Lennea!" She ceased struggling. The water held her up. She stared up at the jungle; the brilliant sun glared down at her. The water, soft against her back, was like her bed back home. She closed her eyes and listened for Mom and Dad downstairs. They always rose so early. Dad, she saw him standing close to the stove fussing with the coffee pot, dumping grounds into boiling water; Mom, wishing he were out of the way so she could begin frying hotcakes.

Soon her sister Val would arrive, organizing, planning a picnic, a shopping trip, a day at the fair. Val, never quite understanding Lennea, but loving her all the same. Val, yes, Val, would miss her most.

Lennea felt weariness . She was so very tired. The thought of water closing over her didn't seem quite so terrible. She had already gone underwater twice. Wasn't the third time to mean death?

Weakly, she began making efforts to swim, her mind resisting the gradual submission of her defeated body.

She thought of Joseph at the airport, of Joseph beside her on the carriage. He rose before her, now, in his wet suit, black hair glistening against the sun. He lifted her into his arms and kissed her. Tears filled her eyes. "Joseph!" She said the words aloud. "I love you!"

She couldn't reach it. Once again she tasted brackish water, once more felt her heavy body slipping downward. She was submerging into that awful black hole, from which she would not return. It didn't matter as much, now. Now that she knew Joseph had returned for her!

Vague impressions! A dark figure climbing down a rope, descending agilely from cliff to water. Hands caught her, tied the rope securely to her waist. The same muscular form braced against rock, half-walking, half-pulling himself back up the cliff's side. Lennea felt her body being inched upward along the treacherous wall. Arms reached out, pulling her over the ledge. Awareness of Joseph and she, both soaking wet, sprawled on the ground, locked in each others' arms!

"How did you find me?"

"I saw the jeep and thought you'd be here."

"All the money everyone's been looking for," she said, choking again, "is in a bag at the bottom of the pool!"

"Don't worry about it," said Joseph. "Don't worry about anything!"

The money was safe! She was safe! She could rest now. Or was she still dreaming? Still floating in the dark pool? Lennea's eyes closed to blessed, blessed darkness.

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Chapter Sixteen

Lennea spent the night in the hospital. Very early in the morning Sid came into the room, smiling gratefully. "Dr. Lopez says there's no reason to keep you."

"Where's Joseph?"

"Joseph told me to take care of you, so I recommend Hotel Guerrero and the splendid breakfast Mother has waiting for us."

On the way to the hotel, Sid said, "Delores and Frank have both been picked up by the police. Mother and Dad went out after Goldie last night. Poor Goldie! I know just what a shock this is to her! I can hardly believe it myself! And to top it off, they say still another person is involved!"

No doubt Joseph had the money in his possession. By now he would be safely out of Mexico. At least he wasn't like Frank and Delores, Lennea thought. He had cared enough about her to save her life. Part of her hoped sincerely that he would escape.

The three Guerreros and Lennea lingered long after their breakfast feast of omelets and hotcakes, spread with Neysa's homemade jelly.

"After each meal my Swedish Grandfather would make us shake hands with Grandma and him and say 'Tack for maten!' I'd like to say it to you now. Thanks very much for the wonderful food! Thanks for all you've done for me. You've been such wonderful friends."

Sid winked. "I would rather have a kiss than a handshake."

"Half-Mayan, half-Latin lover," Neysa observed. "But, Sid, remember, Lennea's kisses are for Joseph!"

During the meal the Guerreros had talked in length about the crime, about Delores and Frank, but they had not once mentioned the money. That must be because they knew nothing of its existence. The last words she had spoken to Joseph, Lennea now recalled, had been to tell him the whereabouts of the money.

Sid gave Lennea the key to the same room she had occupied before, but not anxious to confront the memories there, Lennea wandered toward the statue of the jaguar, set in its hollow near the dining room. She lingered, studying the detailed etchings on the glossy black onyx. She was not aware at once that someone was watching her. The sight of the short Mayan—he had spied on her in this very area—caused her to gasp.

Deep lines formed between large eyes as he spoke, "I'm looking for Joseph Darrigo."

"You're always looking for someone," Lennea replied. She could not read the thoughts behind the stare, except to note a challenging hardness.

"And you're always protecting someone," he answered.

They gazed at the jaguar instead of at each other.

The Mayan extended a card to her from his billfold. His words were clipped, businesslike. "I couldn't tell you this before," he said, "but I work for the Mexican government. It's my job to protect our heritage, our history, from robbers, looters. You see, I investigate the illegal flow of artifacts from Mexico. Delores Camille recognized me at customs in Mexico City and she's been hiding out ever since."

"So it was you Delores was afraid of! I would have thought the police could have picked her up before this."

"I wanted to catch her in the act. I wanted all of them. These sneak-thieves are very difficult to corner. But the time always arrives."

His dark eyes skimmed the lobby and settled again on her. Lennea's gaze returned to the jaguar. "It's little wonder you have these problems. Collectors would give any price for these Mayan treasures!"

"And they're just lying around like grapes on a vine," he said. "Frank LaTilla signed a full confession. He's implicated one of our own police officers, Carlos Alfonso. I've worked with him for over twelve years." He hesitated again. "What I usually find in a case like this is that everyone is involved."

Lennea had been right in not trusting Carlos Alfonso! She drew a deep breath. "What about the money?"

Before he could answer, his eyes shifted toward the main entrance of Hotel Guerrero. Lennea followed his gaze to see Joseph walking briskly toward them. On the inspector's solemn face, the trace of a smile appeared. "I was hoping to find you here, Darrigo," he said. "I didn't get a chance to thank you for all you did yesterday. For getting the money to us, and talking Frank LaTilla into turning himself in. Without LaTilla's confession, we wouldn't have much of a case. Delores Camille and Carlos have refused to say a word."

Carlos Alfonso was the third party Delores had mentioned! Joseph was innocent! Relieved, Lennea stepped backward, leaning against the wall close to the jaguar statue. Joseph watched her, a smile in his dark eyes. She did not hear what he was saying to the investigator, instead, she heard words he had once spoken to her in this very spot. "The path of the jaguar, Lennea, leads from darkness into light."

When the inspector had departed, Joseph said, "Hern has decided to give up his project. Dr. Mendoza is taking over the site."

Lennea felt a tinge of disappointment. She had wanted to be a part of Tikom—helping to uncover its splendid treasures.

"I want you to stay here in the Yucatan," Joseph said. "I'm offering you a full partnership in my venture." His voice rose, resounding with the enthusiasm which characterized him. "You and I will put together the best Maya exhibit ever assembled! What do you say?"

"I'd be honored to be a part of your work," she replied without a moment's hesitation.

Joseph's hands reached out to catch both of hers. "Oh, Lennea, what I'm really trying to say is that I want to marry you—I want you to be my partner for life."

"I love you, Joseph," she admitted at last. Joseph drew her close in a tight embrace. A lifetime with Joseph— always unpredictable and exciting. As his lips met hers, Lennea knew adventure for her was just beginning.

The End

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