Despite what had happened between them, she respected his commitment and integrity to the art world. That was a part of him that would never change. “They’re lucky to have you on their side.”
“This is their heritage. I’m just happy to be a part of it. So how’s Manhattan?”
“Actually,” she said. “I’m in Mexico myself. On vacation.”
“You’re kidding? Where?”
She hesitated and glanced at the door. “South of Veracruz.”
“I’m not very far from you at all. We should get together.”
Damn. Jillian stared at the door. I hate you, Simon.
Lance added, “I’d really like to see you again, Jillian. I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.”
She closed her eyes. This was stupid. Just ask him. Did you tell anyone about my second sight? Did you share the most important thing I have? Did you betray me?
“Just give me a place, Jillian, and I’ll be there for you.”
I’ll be there for you. Right. She was getting really sick of hearing that and finding out it meant nothing. Still, she wanted to believe that he would. She was pathetic. “Okay.”
She scanned the map. “What about Catemaco Lake? Tomorrow?”
“I’m just a few hours south of there. How about we meet for lunch at two p.m.? There’s a small café on the edge of Parque de los Niños.”
“That’s perfect,” she said.
“I can’t wait to see you, Jillian.”
She closed her eyes and lied. “Me, too. Bye.”
After he said good-bye and disconnected, she tossed the phone on the bed and lay back to close her eyes.
That went well.
Except, of course, for the part where she didn’t want to see Lance again. And the part where she was going to have to find out he might have betrayed her, in living color, with Simon there to enjoy the show. And the part where Lance stomped all over her heart again.
Other than that, things were just ducky.
It was midafternoon before they had packed their bags and bought or borrowed enough supplies for a trip into the great unknown. Put on your seat belt, Jillian.
“I don’t like it,” Paulie said for the tenth time as they loaded the Jeep. “Raven told me to watch over you—”
Jillian cut him off. “Paulie, you don’t understand. This is about me. Not you. And certainly not Raven.” She tapped her chest. “Me. My responsibility.”
He shook his head in wonder. “Jesus, you two are like clones. Never met such a stubborn pair. You must have some real knockdown, drag-out fights.”
She pressed her lips together. “Actually, Raven always got her way.” Because I let her. Because it was easier.
Paulie glanced at Simon and Mancuso, who were just coming out of the house with the rest of the gear. “Fine. I’ll stay here. But if you need me, all you have to do is call. I pre-programmed my contact info into your cell phone.”
She nodded. “Got it.”
He handed her a wad of money. “I hit the ATM machine yesterday. You might need more cash.”
She was going to owe everyone after this trip. “Thank you.”
Simon and Mancuso walked by them to put the suitcases in the back.
Paulie leaned in and whispered, “And stick close to Simon. He might be a dick, but I don’t think he’d let you get killed, ’cause, you know, he needs you.”
Jillian smiled at Paulie. “Gee, what a nice thing to say.”
Paulie shrugged. “Sorry, but it’s true. And call me every day.”
Okay, now he was beginning to sound like her father. “If I can. I don’t know where we will end up.”
He threw up his hands. “The point is if you don’t call me, then I’ll know something is wrong and I can find you using the GPS tracker.”
She narrowed her eyes in warning. “Unless I throw the cell phone in the gulf on the way to Tres Zapotes.”
Paulie rolled his eyes. “Fine. I swear, you’re clones.”
She grinned and gave him a fierce hug. “Be careful. Just because you aren’t coming with us doesn’t mean you’re in the clear.”
“Don’t I know it.”
She stepped back and noticed Simon watching them. A flicker of something came and went on his face as he closed up the Jeep and headed toward them.
He shook Paulie’s hand. “Take care of Mancuso.”
“Take care of Jillian,” he returned.
Some silent male understanding passed between them, and Jillian shook her head. She turned to face Mancuso. He removed his hat with elegant flair and gave her a soft kiss on each cheek. His hands remained on her shoulders while he said, “Be careful, Jillian.”
She gave him a smile. “I will. Thank you for everything.”
He nodded and shook Simon’s hand as she climbed into the Jeep. Simon got into the driver’s seat, and they pulled out of the driveway.
Jillian looked back to wave to them and saw Mancuso make the Sign of the Cross.
Through the binoculars, Kesel watched the white Jeep head east. He easily picked out Bonner, and the blonde must be Jillian Talbot. A skinny kid and an old man waved from the driveway. He’d need to find out who they were. The kid definitely wasn’t a local.
“I told you,” Alexis said from the passenger seat of his rental.
Kesel watched the Jeep until it disappeared out of sight and lowered the binoculars. “You’ll get your payment in full.”
Her perfume wafted over him as she leaned close. He noticed new fine wrinkles around her eyes when she smiled. Her hand went to his chest, fingers slipping between the buttons of his shirt to the skin beneath.
“Is that all?” she asked.
He gave her a patient smile. “I need you to do something else for me.”
She raised one penciled eyebrow. “Anything.”
“See what’s going on inside that hacienda.” He hitched his head toward the house Bonner had just vacated. “I want names, details, backgrounds, and anything else you can uncover.”
Alexis’s other hand traced a line down to his chest. “Uncover?”
He realized there was no hurry. Not with the GPS unit he’d put on Bonner’s Jeep. All he had to do was follow the dot on the dashboard screen.
“I know that’s your specialty,” he said and kissed her hard.
Simon’s attention was split between the traffic on MEX 180 and Jillian. She’d been quiet since they left Mancuso’s. He knew part of it was the legend, but part of it was the iron grip she held on her thoughts and on her every move. He’d seen her cut loose, throw caution—and her clothes—to the wind. Somewhere under all that sleek reserve lay a tiger in wait. What would it take for him to see that again? Probably more than he was willing to give.
“Know any good road games?”
She looked up from the map that was permanently attached to her lap and stared at him in surprise. “Excuse me?”
He knew that’d get her attention. “Road games. For long trips. Didn’t you ever do that when you were a kid?”
“No.”
It was his turn to be surprised. “Never?”
“We didn’t travel,” she said simply. “My father wasn’t home much.”
Huh. “Where’d you grow up?”
“Yonkers.”
“College?”
“Columbia U.”
“So you’ve never been outside New York City?”
She frowned at him. “I’ve been to a few conferences and museums.”
That explained a lot. “So why do you have a passport?”
“My sister insisted.”
He nodded. “Your sister is smart.”
“She is,” Jillian said with total sincerity and love. “What about you? Any siblings to drive you crazy?”
His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Just me.”
“An only child? No wonder you’re so used to getting your way,” she said.
“Foster child.”
There was a short, potent silence during wh
ich Simon concentrated on the road. Then Jillian said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
He shrugged. “Forget it. Whoever my parents were, they weren’t ready for a kid.”
The horrified look on her face said it all. Just what he needed, a little pity to add to the mix. Time to change the subject and never return. “Did you get a hold of Lance?”
She nodded, looking slightly distracted. “Uh, yes. He said he was a few hours south of us. We’re going to meet him at a café in Catemaco tomorrow at two p.m.”
Son of a bitch. He was close. “Did he say what he was doing here in Mexico?”
“Working on a new excavation in Oaxaca.”
Simon made a mental note to ask Lance exactly where.
“I’d really rather meet him alone,” Jillian said.
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“If he’s betrayed me, I’d prefer you weren’t there to see it.”
If he’s betrayed you, I’m going to kill him with my bare hands. “I need to meet him.”
“Fine.” There was a sound of defeat in her voice that he didn’t care for. Why didn’t she just tell Lance off? He’d obviously hurt her and deserved it.
Just give me a reason, Lance.
It had gotten quiet again, and Simon cleared his throat. “So, road games. Ever play Horny?”
Her eyes widened. “Horny? You know a game called Horny? I can’t wait to hear this.”
He tried to keep a straight face. “Every time someone blows a horn, one of us has to remove a piece of clothing.”
“I see,” she said, acting fascinated. “And how do we decide which one of us that would be?”
He checked the rearview mirror. “If the horn beeps on my side, I strip. If it beeps on your side, you strip.”
Jillian laughed for the first time in too long, and Simon grinned. He liked hearing her laugh. He liked being the one to make her laugh even more.
“Why do I have the feeling this game is illegal at sixty miles an hour?” she finally said.
“Not in Mexico, it’s not.”
“You’re serious,” she sputtered, looking somewhere between terrified and intrigued.
He swerved the Jeep into the right lane, and the driver beside her lay on the horn.
Jillian grabbed the side bar. “That’s not fair!”
He leaned back in his seat in sweet victory. “You’re up first, babe.”
CHAPTER
14
Fortunately, it took them only about an hour to reach Santiago Tuxtla, because Jillian was really worried that Simon was going to get pulled over for reckless driving. And although she had not succumbed to the game, she was sorely tempted to get another peek at what lay under Simon’s shirt. And with that, he’d managed to keep her mind off reality for a while.
The old colonial town nestled comfortably in a valley of low volcanic hills that had formed long ago. White church steeples speared through the trees. Pink buildings lined up in an orderly fashion along the main thoroughfare. She was beginning to really love this place. It was so wise and relaxed and at peace with itself.
Too bad it was lost on Simon. She doubted there was anything about Mexico that he found appealing.
He was betrayed, Mancuso had told her. How? Why? She ached to know, but Simon would never tell her. She was shocked he’d told her he was a foster child. And at the same time, she was grateful, humbled even. She wondered how many others knew that about him.
They drove through the picturesque countryside of green rolling hills. The road narrowed, and traffic slowed behind buses, trucks, and cows. Modest houses and shops interrupted the green backdrop and leggy trees. By the time they passed the next town, the road had become a minefield of potholes, and Jillian’s stomach was in knots.
What if nothing happened? What if they got there and she couldn’t see anything? Part of her wanted to make it work, to save Celina. Part of her wished it wouldn’t. Would it be better to have the choice taken away from her rather than have to make it herself?
The town of Tres Zapotes was small and pleasant, but Jillian didn’t pay it much attention. She was focused on the end of the road and the small museum near the excavation site. Her hands were shaking by the time Simon parked the Jeep. All she could see was green grass, chain-link fences, and buildings. Where were the ruins?
A warm hand touched hers, and she turned to Simon.
“You okay?”
“Fine,” she said, but it didn’t sound like her voice.
He studied her face for a moment, and then he reached in the back for a pack. “Let’s see what this magic looking glass can do.”
She exited the Jeep and was immediately assaulted with the sultry afternoon heat of Mexico. Then Simon came around the Jeep armed with mosquito spray, and she burst out laughing. “You really don’t like mosquitoes, do you?”
He grinned and sprayed her down. “Spoken like a woman who’s never contracted malaria.”
She dutifully turned around so he could get her back, which was more erotic than it ever should be. The spray cooled her legs and sent shivers up her spine. God, she was pathetic. Then he handed her the can. “Do me.”
She froze as she looked into his eyes. They had changed somehow. Warmer now. Less distrustful. Sexier. Get a grip, Jillian. Either the heat was getting to her or the “heat” was getting to her.
“Jillian?”
“Sorry.” She blinked and started with his front— spraying his arms and chest and bare legs—and then walked around him to do the back.
The spray shimmered across long, thick thigh muscles. What a body he had. He probably didn’t even realize what he did to women. What would it feel like to have those legs tangled with hers? To run her hands across his warm skin? She wished she hadn’t been so drunk in the water back at Mancuso’s.
It occurred to her that the bug spray was running in rivers down his legs and pooling in his walking shoes while she was lost in her fantasy.
He was watching her when she came around front and handed him the can. “Done.”
He smiled as he took it and put it back in the pack.
Oh, damn, she thought. He knew. Stupid fantasies. Had to be the heat.
She walked down a dirt path to the museum entrance before he could read any more of her mind. On the way, Simon took her hand and slipped the lens into it.
“Just try not to be too obvious,” he said quietly. “I’ll screen you.”
Visitors were wandering the spacious grounds once they got inside the gate. A short distance away stood an outdoor museum courtyard. As much as she wanted to see the artifacts within, she needed to know if the lens worked first.
She stopped on the grass and scanned the area. There were no signs of ruins. Had they been ravaged, or had they simply sunk back into the earth from which they came? She concentrated, but nothing came through her naked second vision. Disappointment marred anticipation.
The glass was smooth and cool in her hand. Now or never.
After glancing around to make sure no one was looking, she lifted the lens to eye level and swept the yard, pausing on one of the giant Olmec heads placed near the boundary.
Figures emerged slowly, chiseling and rubbing the stone—two men in loincloths and wearing beads around their necks. Their heads were tanned and shaved, lips full, and bodies strong. Mancuso’s drawing had been eerily accurate. How was that possible? She watched the men engaged wholly in their work, the past in the making. No one had ever seen their smiles or how they moved or worked. This was a gift just for her.
“Anything?” Simon asked, interrupting her vision.
She put the lens down abruptly and looked around. Simon’s big body blocked her from the museum, and none of the other incoming visitors seemed to be paying attention to them.
“I saw the stonecutters, but nothing else,” she replied softly and raised the lens to scope out the rest of the visible yard. “Either there’s nothing left of the site, or this isn’t the exact location of the Olmec occupation.”
Then the lens picked up something in the corner of the yard, and she froze in disbelief. It couldn’t be.
The high priest from Mancuso’s book was watching her. A low buzz filled her ears, and suddenly she was pulled into a surreal vacuum as the rest of the site fell away. The priest seemed to draw her closer until she could see the whites of his eyes.
He began to speak, but she couldn’t make out the words, only his low intonation. She shook her head. I don’t understand you.
He lifted his arm to point to the left. She moved the lens in the direction he indicated, but nothing was there. And when she moved it back, he was gone.
“Jillian, talk to me.”
Simon’s harsh whisper shook her back to the present with a dizzying rush. She lowered the lens as she swayed on her feet. He grabbed her, and she leaned into him. The heat and the humidity swamped her senses.
“What happened?” he said in her ear after a few moments.
She closed her eyes and absorbed his strength until the ground stopped spinning.
“It was Mancuso’s priest. He tried to talk to me, but I didn’t understand. Then he pointed to something, but I couldn’t see it, and then he was gone.”
She didn’t need to see Simon’s face to sense his disappointment.
“What if I’m not the right person, Simon?” she said against his shirt.
“You are. This just isn’t the right place.”
She wanted to believe him, and the priest was a good sign that they were at least on the right path. But the clock inside her head kept ticking away. How many sites would they visit before finding the answers? Time would be their enemy.
She stepped back and fixed her mussed hair. “I’m okay now.”
His eyes stayed on her a few seconds longer. “Well, we’re here. Might as well check out the museum.”
She almost fainted all over again. “Sightseeing? Like real tourists? Won’t that ruin your image?”
He smirked and headed toward the outdoor courtyard. “I know you have a thing for museums.”
They stood under the peaked roofs and stared at a bunch of old rocks.
Jillian fell silent, her whole being focused on the stone heads and boulders housed on the patio underneath. She stopped at the first one and almost swooned—over the giant Olmec head, he hoped.
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