Untouched
Men of the Jungle
Jerri Drennen
Published 2010
ISBN 978-1-59578-748-4
Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2010, Jerri Drennen. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
Manufactured in the United States of America
Liquid Silver Books
http://LSbooks.com
Email:
[email protected]
Editor
Lynne Anderson
Cover Artist
Amanda Kelsey
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Blurb
Botanist Madeline Wentworth is relieved to be heading into the Amazon, far from the university and the vicious rumors circulating about her failed love affair. But on arriving in Peru, her team finds their guide dead with a small puncture wound to his neck. Waiting to replace him is Travis Kane, Amazon guide, treasure hunter, and superhunk. Mattie is instantly attracted but uncomfortably suspicious. When a member of her team falls ill and a similar puncture wound is found on his body, her suspicions deepen.
Travis has stuck with being a jungle guide for over ten years despite a run of unsavory clients. The rain forest is full of hidden ruins and undiscovered treasure, and he’s determined to find his share. But when his grandfather dies, leaving a letter boasting of Templar gold, he’s sure it's nothing more than an old man’s delusion. Everything changes when he finds his grandfather’s map. With high hopes, he leads Mattie’s team into the rain forest and finds himself overwhelmed by the beautiful blonde. When the group is attacked and has to fight its way out of the jungle, Travis discovers something more precious than gold—the love of a woman who’s made him want to be a better man.
Chapter One
Travis Kane lifted the box from the attorney’s desk and gave it a good shake, not at all surprised to find it sounded empty. His typical luck.
The cigar-size case was old. That much you could tell by the hardware holding it together and the carved etchings on its sides and top. The symbols had a Nubian feel to them, one shaped like a pyramid, another, a large eye he’d seen in Egyptian mythology. But what the hell was he supposed to do with it? It wasn’t like he had time to track down the Antiques Roadshow to find out if the thing was old enough to be worth anything.
“Questions so far?” the attorney asked.
Damned straight he had some questions.
For one, why leave everything to him? He hadn’t seen his grandfather since he was in his midteens, some twenty years ago.
“What did Cedric own besides this box?” He placed it none too gently on top of the desk.
“He had a home here in Portsmouth. A few stocks and bonds, and the estate in Nova Scotia his father left him.”
“In a nutshell, what’s it all worth?” Travis shifted on the straight-back chair, bored. He still didn’t know why he was here. The last thing he needed was property to dispose of.
The attorney steepled his hands on the desk. “That’s hard to say. In cash, not much. Your grandfather wasn’t into investing—or diversifying his portfolio.”
Travis scrubbed at his chin stubble. “Do you have any idea why Cedric left me all his stuff? My mother at least tried to see him in the past five or so years. Me, I thought he was off his rocker with his claims to the legendary Knights Templar.”
The attorney shook his head. “Cedric wasn’t crazy, Mr. Kane. I drew up his will and he was as sane as you or I at that time.”
“So you believe in this Templar bullshit?” If the man said yes, he was as loco as Travis’s grandfather.
“I can’t say either way. I just know what he insisted: that you retain this box. Is there anything else I can answer for you?”
Travis shook his head.
“Then I have one last thing. It’s a letter from Cedric to you.” The elderly man reached in the top drawer of his oak desk and retrieved a gold-embossed envelope. He handed it to Travis, and rose.
That was Travis’s cue that the meeting was over. He stood and stuffed the envelope into the back pocket of his jeans and shook the man’s hand. Then he tucked the box under his arm. “Thank you, Mr. Harding.”
He strode down the corridor to the entrance. He had no idea what he was going to do with the properties he’d just inherited. If they were speaking, he’d consider giving them to his mother, even if she hardly deserved it. All he knew for sure was he’d have to get back to work in a week or two. Though from this point on, he was going to be more selective as to whom he did business with. In the past, some of his dealings hadn’t always been what the clients had suggested going in, with him finding out too late he was guiding an unsavory bunch of hoodlums through uncharted jungles so they could pad their pockets with illegal contraband. In those cases he’d been damned lucky not to have been arrested. From now on he was doing background checks before he agreed to a client’s terms. He was sick of watching them kill innocent animals for sport. A few years ago that wouldn't have mattered so much. It did now.
Outside, Travis grabbed a cigarette from the inside pocket of his bomber jacket and stared at it while the wooden box teetered in his arm. For the past two weeks he’d been trying hard to quit.
With determination, he flicked the smoke into the rain gutter and glanced around the deserted city street. Since he’d gone inside that afternoon, the sun had disappeared under heavy snow clouds and it had started to sleet. The hard crystals stung Travis’s face. To shake off the arctic chill in the air, he zipped his jacket and flipped up the collar.
If he were rich, he’d stay at a local motel for the week. Unfortunately, he wasn’t. He’d be forced to hole up in Cedric’s home for the next few days, something he wasn’t looking forward to, and no way was he staying in this godforsaken place for long. It was too damned cold. Besides, he’d never put down roots anywhere—not ever.
Travis stepped off the walkway and crossed the road to his Jeep.
With no regard for the box, he tossed it into the backseat and slipped behind the wheel right as his cell chirped. He unclipped the phone from his belt and flipped it open. “Kane.”
“I have a job for you,” a familiar voice said through the earpiece.
Travis closed the Jeep’s door, clenching his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering. “What’s it this time? A bunch of poachers wanting to kill endangered animals? Not interested, Hall.”
“No, nothing like that and this job pays extra since they need someone right away. You could rest on your laurels a while.”
Travis laughed.
Rest on his laurels. Right. Like he’d ever rested on anything—until today. “I’m taking a few weeks off right now. I have personal business to take care of.”
“All right, but if you change your mind, it’s in Manu, Peru. Some botanist needs a guide in another week. No illegal dealings—all up front and legit. They’re taking in a team from Washington University in St. Louis, to study the flora and fauna. All scientific mumbo-jumbo.”
Like Travis knew a damned thing about science. “Sounds fascinating, but I can’t. I have some property to look at.”
“Property? You come into some money?”
Travis glanced over his shoulder at the strange box and heaved a sigh. “My grandfather left me his estate.”
“You mean the one you said was crazy? I th
ought you hadn’t seen him in years.”
“I hadn’t, but I guess I was preferable to my dear old mom. I imagine Cedric thought she’d have to share it with the next man she married. Community property and all.” Travis knew that sounded bitter, but he resented the woman for so many reasons he’d lost count.
Hell, he’d come to the realization over the years that most women only thought of themselves and what they could get from a man. He’d done his best to avoid that trap and would continue to do so.
Hall laughed. “By the way, how is your mother? I’ve been looking for a woman with a wealthy son.”
Galen was the type to marry for money—to a woman with one foot in the grave.
“I’m not sure. I haven’t seen her in a while. She’s too healthy for you, anyway. She’ll probably outlive us both. Besides, I’m far from wealthy. I have two run-down estates owned by a man who lived centuries in the past. I’d image they aren’t what anyone would consider posh real estate.”
“Need help spending your inheritance? I wouldn’t mind lounging on a beach somewhere. We could find some exotic distractions. We haven't done that in a while.”
One thing Travis liked about his friend and colleague was how his mind worked so much like his own.
“I have no idea what I plan to do yet. I haven’t given it much thought. We should get together, though. Somewhere hot. When we’re both free.”
“Sounds like a plan. Drop me a line.”
Travis laughed again. Galen Hall was into the dark recesses of life—had actually taught Travis a thing or two over the past ten years he’d known him. They’d done things some might find objectionable, but hell if they hadn’t had a good time doing them. Just not in the past year or so—neither had had time.
“Hey, call Chaz on that Manu thing. It’s right in his backyard.”
“Right. I should have thought of that.”
“I’ll call you when I hit South American soil again.”
A hearty chuckle vibrated through the phone line. “You do that.”
Travis closed the phone and re-clipped it to his belt.
He considered Hall his closest friend. He didn’t have many. Not when he traveled all the time. A few days of drinking with Galen would be a welcome change from his routine. All Travis had done the past five years was trudge from one jungle site to another. He was tired. He needed some time to think, his ultimate reason for traveling to Portsmouth. Certainly not for any inheritance. At thirty-five, it was time to reevaluate his life.
He turned the key in the ignition, shoved the 4x4 into gear, and pulled away from the curb.
With any luck, Cedric’s home wouldn’t be as bad as he pictured it. Hopefully he’d be able to stay warm and take a hot shower, and while he was there, maybe learn something about the man who’d left him everything he owned.
Then again, why should Travis care? It wasn’t like his grandfather had gone out of his way to get to know him. The two were virtual strangers and now that the man was gone, there was no way for them to change that.
* * * *
Dr. Madeline Wentworth glanced out the hotel’s window, a grimy pane of glass she’d been staring out of for a week, numbed by the dusty haze of trucks rolling by.
She was so close to having her dreams come true after five years of working toward them with the help of Washington University and the team she barely had seniority over. She’d finally be able to use her botany degree for something other than teaching. Yet now that she had arrived in Manu, she’d have to wait to enter the rain forest.
Her hands tightened on the window molding as she watched two men crossing the street.
If only the guide they’d hired to lead her team of six into the jungle hadn’t died the day they had arrived in the South American city—and under suspicious circumstances according to the local authorities. It could take weeks to find a replacement for him.
Not that she was in a hurry to get back to WashU and the whole scandal surrounding Professor Gerald Elders, but she wanted to get to work. Maybe finding a new species of plant would propel her career in the right direction. Get her away from the college for good.
Madeline sighed with frustration. She was stuck in this room, not much larger than a closet, for an undetermined amount of time; her only distraction from boredom was dreaming about the sights and sounds of the jungle just beyond her reach.
A light knock at the door gave Mattie a start. Since she’d arrived in town, she had been shakier than a seasoned investor in today’s stock market. Why, she wasn’t quite sure.
Madeline crossed to the door. Instantly, a familiar tingling sensation put her on alert. It had been some time since she’d experienced the strange feeling—she’d actually thought she’d lost the gift she’d had since she was a child. “Who’s there?”
“Dr. Wentworth?” The man’s low, gravelly voice with a German accent sent a bone-tingling chill through her.
“Yes.” She stepped back, the tingling thrumming through her becoming stronger. Thank God two of the team were right next door.
“I heard you needed a guide. I think I can help.”
Madeline’s spirits rose. If this man fit their requirements, they’d be headed into the Amazon by this time tomorrow to search for a new class of plant life—perhaps even one that could cure cancer.
Nervous fingers fumbled with the door while her inner voice screamed not to open it. What if he was just saying he was a guide to get into her room? That thought alone brought a number of horrible images with it.
If she screamed, would Drew hear her?
What should she do?
“I have worked with Mr. Junta in the past. What do you say, Dr. Wentworth?”
Should it make her feel better that he knew the dead guide? He could have heard the name around town.
“I was saddened to hear about his death.”
He sounded sincere. Maybe she was just being paranoid.
If you want to travel into the jungle you’re going to have to open that door.
Without releasing the chain, she cracked the door slightly and peeked at a man who looked to be in his mid-forties, medium height, rail thin, wearing a pair of wire-rimmed glasses over cold, dark brown eyes. The intensity in his stare sent another shiver through her. A pungent smell of alcohol and sweat permeated the air around him. Mattie didn’t have to think twice to know she wanted nothing to do with the man.
“Name’s Glass, ma’am. Martin Glass. I know the jungle. I could guide you and your team.”
“Do you have a résumé, Mr. Glass?” Mattie prayed that he didn’t. She wanted to scream no way then and there, but doing so based on sight would be rude. He’d expect a reason for her refusal and she was sure her creepy feelings about him wouldn’t go over too well.
“No, I don’t. But I know you’re dealing with time constraints. You need a guide right now. The rainy season is just weeks away. I could be ready to leave by this time tomorrow.”
Mattie swallowed hard. “I’ll need to confer with my colleagues on this and get back to you.” It was the only thing she could think to say to stall for time. Being alone with this man literally made her palms clammy. Next time they met, she’d have James and Drew there to back her up.
“Sure.” The smile he gave didn’t warm his eyes at all. “I’ll come by early in the morning. Like I said, we could leave tomorrow afternoon if you decide yes.”
Madeline returned his smile. “Let’s make it eight. I’ll let you know then.”
He nodded, then turned down the dark paneled hallway, a considerable limp drawing her attention. He hardly seemed fit to be a guide and he made her skin crawl. Not a good combination, especially with her intuition. Something wasn’t right with Mr. Glass and placing her team’s life in his hands was too risky in a jungle that wasn’t easy to begin with. She’d be crazy to trust him to lead them through it.
Chapter Two
Should he believe a word his grandfather wrote?
Travis blew out a breath and rerea
d the letter, his hands tightening around the edges of the paper. In the shakily handwritten note, Cedric told of a map to relics belonging to the Knights Templar. That treasure was hidden in the rain forests of Peru and needed to remain a secret. Travis’s responsibility was to protect this information and take it to the grave if need be.
Right. Crazy old coot.
He’d never heard of any documentation placing the Templar order in the region. Why would they travel to the middle of an overgrown jungle to conceal treasure they could have hidden anywhere in the world? It made no sense.
Then again, what did when it came to his grandfather? This was typical Cedric storytelling. Even from beyond the grave he was spinning an unbelievable tale. But Travis wasn’t falling for it. He had better things to do than to go off on some half-baked exploit.
He snorted when a flash of Indiana Jones running for his life appeared in his mind’s eye. Like that could really happen.
Travis knew the Amazon, had been in the area many times, and had never heard or seen any signs of hidden treasure—never even an inkling of a rumor.
Besides, where was this so-called map?
Travis glanced around Cedric’s cluttered office and shook his head. The man must have never thrown a single thing away. At least ten boxes littered the floor, each filled with objects wrapped in paper. Not to mention every surface was stacked high with magazines and odd news clippings.
How had anyone lived in such disorder? So far he’d been at the estate for three days and hadn’t made it through one room without tripping over something.
Exhaling, Travis scowled. Cedric had to be the poster child for the term “pack rat”. So unlike Travis, who could carry everything he owned in one duffel bag.
Now he knew something else about his grandfather—another indication that the man had plaque on the brain when he had died.
At the desk where Travis sat, he pulled the top drawer and found it wouldn’t budge. He scratched his head. Why would his grandfather feel the need to lock the thing?
Where could he have hidden the key?
Travis rose and walked to a shelf lining the far wall of the room. He’d never seen so many books in his life.
Untouched Page 1
