“I don’t care who comes as long as we find this thing,” Cal said, readying his camera.
Juan and Lewis were still watching Matthew.
“He’s right. The more the merrier.” Matthew gripped Juan’s shoulder.
Juan showcased a toothy grin. “All right, then. Let’s go.”
“Look!” Robyn pointed to the mountain ranges that peaked above the jungle canopy. Fog clung to the treetops surrounding it, covering the area in an eerie haze that intrigued more than frightened. “We’re getting closer.” Excitement laced each of her words. There was no hesitancy or apprehension.
Matthew couldn’t help but smile. Despite all the tension among them, he lived for this kind of discovery. To put one’s hands on something that had been buried for centuries, to walk where no man had in just as long. They had quite a distance to go still, with untold obstacles ahead, but he was ready and so were his friends.
They maneuvered the boats to the riverbank, and Juan and Lewis took one and hid it in the dense growth. They did the same with the other.
Foliage towered overhead and all around, robbing them of their view of the mountains. They’d need to use their machetes to clear a path. But rather than fear his surroundings, Matthew felt as though he was returning home. It was another reason why he was suited for a lifestyle that had him traveling to remote regions of the globe.
“How’s it looking, Cal?” Matthew turned to his friend, who was taking photographs.
Cal lowered the camera and exchanged it for a GPS. Their destinations had already been keyed into it to ensure they were headed in the right direction.
“Are you sure he should be the one doing this?” Robyn laughed. “You do remember India?”
“Oh, be quiet, woman…” Cal flashed her a smirk and returned his focus to the screen. “All right, so we have ten miles of jungle ahead of us.”
“Ten miles?” Ian asked.
Everyone turned to face Ian.
“If you were listening earlier, you’d know this. If the distance is too much for you, you can wait by the boats,” Cal offered.
Ian shook his head and looked away. Matthew was sure the man was having many regrets. Maybe next time he’d consider the consequences of his actions beforehand. Not that Matthew had any empathy for the guy. He deserved what he had coming to him.
“All right, let’s get going.” Robyn withdrew a machete from her bag and swung it in wide, even arcs.
Matthew stepped to her side, and the two of them worked to make a path.
He never would have dreamed years ago that he and Robyn would be seeing the world together in this way. When he had been ready to propose marriage, the timing hadn’t been right. She had just received a job offer, and he’d always known what her career meant to her. He had refused to hold her back. She’d needed to devote endless hours to the job in order to build her reputation and succeed in her field. Truth was, he’d loved her too much to see her give up on her dreams.
“You know, ten miles in the jungle isn’t like a leisurely Sunday stroll,” Kevin said to Ian.
If the two men despised each other as much as they seemed to, Matthew and his friends could use it to their advantage. If they managed to divide the men, they could conquer them. Like most things, it was all about timing.
-
Chapter 28
PAITITI WAS OUT THERE WAITING to be discovered. Matthew sensed it. Some called it intuition, others a sixth sense. Whatever it was, it spoke to him now. A hidden treasure of this magnitude would bring untold dangers. This fact brought up a deeper question: was the city meant to be found? Not only did the legendary city carry the stigmatism of whether it even existed, it brought intrigue and mysticism.
While the Incas never developed a written language, they were well ahead of their time scientifically. There may even be curses or other such deterrents protecting the city. His studies hadn’t revealed any ancient rumor as to hexes laid upon the City of Gold, but for it to remain undiscovered made Matthew wonder if it was simply due to the wrong geographical search area or something more.
He knew one thing for sure: those who’d set out with real intent to find Paititi in the past had sacrificed their lives in the search. Native Indians, disease, starvation, or an unknown factor? It made sense to him that fortifications could secure the city against capture and discovery.
He continued to swing the machete wide, Robyn working in harmony with his swipes.
“How far have we gone?” Matthew asked Cal.
“Is that your way of asking, ‘Are we there yet?’”
“Sounds like it.” Matthew stopped to catch his breath.
Cal consulted the GPS. “We’ve gone a quarter of a mile.”
Matthew wiped his brow. His skin was slick with sweat that had soaked through his clothing. The one saving grace was the cover of the trees that protected them from direct sunlight. He took out his canteen and swigged back a healthy mouthful of water. The rest of them followed his lead and drank from their own containers.
“Look at this.” Robyn indicated a butterfly, its wings like glass. The leaf it rested on showed through the clear wings.
“Beautiful.” Matthew smiled at Robyn, and she returned it and nodded.
Their eyes locked, and he was catapulted to the past. He was waking up beside her in bed. Her brown eyes were full of love and wistfulness.
Back in Bolivia, he turned away from Robyn. “We better get mov—”
“No!” Juan shoved Cal away from a tree he was about to lean against.
Cal stumbled a bit, catching his balance. “What are you—”
Juan pointed to an insect on the bark. It was about an inch long and of fusiform shape with patterned wings on its back.
“It’s a kissing bug, and they can be deadly.”
“They are also known as vinchucas. Correct?” Robyn asked.
“Yes. They are bloodsucking and known to spread Chagas’ disease.”
“Chagas’ disease?” Cal’s Adam’s apple bobbed with a rough swallow.
“Yes. It causes skin disorders, brain toxicity, digestive system irritation, and heart damage. If left untreated it can be deadly. Some people don’t even realize they are infected until it is too late.”
Cal winced and then twitched as obvious shivers crawled through his body.
“You want to find relics, yes? Not become one?” Juan asked. “Because if you become infected, it’s possible we’ll be burying you in this jungle.”
Cal nodded. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Just when there had been the possibility of a calmness settling over the group, a blood-sucking bug had managed to upset things. But with it, any hesitation about having the two extra men, dissolved. They had already potentially saved Cal’s life, and their intimate knowledge of the land and its creatures was certainly advantageous.
“We still have a long way to go, and it would be nice to get at least halfway before nightfall,” Matthew said, expecting a comment from Ian about spending a night in the jungle. None came. Maybe he was finally learning how to keep his mouth shut. In fact, Matthew was impressed that the man had remained silent through everything that just happened with the kissing bug. Or perhaps he was too terrified to speak.
-
Chapter 29
DETECTIVE BRODY FULLER WOULD HAVE preferred to make better use of his time than be looking into an abandoned car. But until his investigation concluded otherwise—this particular car was being viewed as a crime scene.
He pulled the department sedan up beside the tow truck and took in the area. This part of the city was stereotypical for vehicle dumps. There weren’t many people down here except for homeless people and drug dealers, both of which came out at night. Not that they weren’t out there now, too, but they were pros at blending in.
Drums full of burned debris spo
tted the area. Ratty comforters littered the streets, and shopping carts packed with garbage, likely to feed the fires, sat nearby.
Brody had been called down here more times than he could count for everything from drug overdoses to murder. Then there were cases like this one—a vehicle with a missing driver. But usually the cars were run-down pieces of shit.
In this case, it was a new model Hyundai Accent in pristine condition and it was behind the tow truck, not yet hooked up. It didn’t appear to have been taken for a joyride.
Brody ambled over to the truck driver who stood beside the car. The man was balding, middle-aged, and had an expansive belly. He wore overalls and his winter coat was unzipped, giving Brody more than an ample view of the man’s pear-shaped torso.
“Did you touch the car?” Brody asked.
“Nope.” The man crossed his arms, and by doing so drew Brody’s eye to an embroidered name patch announcing him as McKenzie.
“Good.” Brody pulled out a pair of latex gloves and took a step toward the vehicle. “And you found it unlocked?”
“Yeah, it—”
“But you never touched it?”
McKenzie rolled his eyes and headed to the cab of his truck. Brody remained aware of the man’s movements. He didn’t know why he was on the move. Was he getting a gun? Maybe the dislike had been instantaneous for him, too. It wasn’t uncommon for a cop to be shot down in the line of duty. Sadly, these days, it happened on a regular basis. It was a risk assumed by those who donned the badge. And it was better to border on paranoia than be dead.
When Brody assessed that it was safe, he carried on. He first peered through the front passenger’s-side window, holding his hand to his forehead to cut out the glare from the sun. No blood or weapons on any of the seats. There were no clear indicators that a crime even took place here. That was what stirred his gut. It was too pristine. Too immaculate.
He looked in the back. No garbage on the floor, front or back.
He lifted the handle on the front passenger door.
Brody heard McKenzie’s boots scraping over the gravel. He’d probably returned to watch. Without acknowledging the man, Brody continued his quick search and crouched to look under the seat. Afterward, he walked around the car and repeated the process on the driver’s seat. He found nothing.
His fingers traced the steering wheel—without making contact—dropping to the ignition. No keys. Not an uncommon find. The person who took the car could have tossed them anywhere.
The plate would be run for a few reasons. First, to obtain the owner’s identity. Second, to see if the vehicle was reported stolen. And third, to find out if it was reported in conjunction with a crime.
He opened the glove box and like the rest of the car, it was organized and tidy. An accordion-style folder seemed to hold maintenance receipts, he noticed with a quick glance. He reached beneath the folder and pulled out the car’s registration. He could mark off the car’s owner.
“Who is it?” McKenzie asked, yanking Brody from his contemplation.
Nosy driver, but he’d appease his curiosity.
“Some chick named Sophie Jones.” Saying her name aloud, Brody recognized it, but couldn’t remember why.
“Isn’t that the girl from the buses? The real estate agent?”
Ah, that’s where he’d seen it. Maybe this guy wasn’t useless after all. “Yeah, I think it is.”
-
Chapter 30
MATTHEW TUCKED HIS WATER CANTEEN back into his bag. “Are you good to clear again?” he asked Robyn.
“Absolutely.”
They took over for Cal and Ian, resuming their swipes, once again moving in perfect sync.
The seven of them made good time, eating up miles of jungle, each taking turns at cutting down the foliage, but the sun streaming through the canopy was getting dim.
“We should set up camp for the night,” Matthew suggested, sheathing his machete.
Robyn secured hers, as well. “I agree. Night falls quickly. We’ll need to get a fire going and our tents set up.”
“Wait, do you hear that?” Cal held up his finger, summoning everyone to remain quiet.
“A waterfall?” Lewis said.
“Yeah, I think so.” Cal pulled out his machete and swiped at the foliage, heading in the direction of the sound.
After about fifty swipes, they reached a small clearing. Sheltered by overhanging trees, there was a bit of a flat space, perfect for setting up camp. It was next to a lagoon with a small waterfall rolling over its back edge.
“Great job,” Matthew said.
Cal turned to Robyn. “And you still probably think I have no sense of direction.”
She laughed. “You got lucky.”
“So a waterfall and a lagoon… We are getting close.” Juan flashed his toothy smile.
Matthew sensed Juan was trying to encourage the group. Being a native, Juan would have known there were many waterfalls and lagoons in Bolivia. But it was best to leave them invigorated and thinking that they were almost there. Of course, almost there was a relative term. Distance-wise, as Juan had noted earlier in the day, a total of ten miles wasn’t that far. It was the terrain that made it feel more like a thousand-mile trip.
“How are we making out?” Matthew asked Cal, nodding toward the GPS.
“First things first…” Cal started snapping photographs of the lagoon and the falls, and then he took a couple of Matthew and Robyn. She moved in close to Matthew and held up her hand behind his head. He surmised she was giving him bunny ears with her fingers. Some things would never change.
Cal turned and swept his camera around and included shots of Juan and Lewis. Ian and Kevin denied permission to have their photos taken. Not that it came as a surprise.
“You about done there?” Matthew waved his fingers toward the camera.
“Yeah, I— Whoa, look at him.” Cal directed their attention to a low-hanging branch. On it, camouflaged to near perfection, was a large iguana.
“Oh wow. He’s awesome.” Robyn jogged to Cal’s side, as he was closer to the reptile. “You have to take his picture.”
“Already did,” Cal said and then put his camera away. “All right, back to business.” He consulted the GPS.
“Thank God,” Ian groaned.
Is it too much to ask for the man to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the trip? Matthew thought.
Cal didn’t give any indication that he’d heard Ian say anything, though. “According to this thingy, we’re just a bit over halfway.”
“Excellent.” Matthew spun to take in the area. “We’ll set up here.”
IF BEING IN THE JUNGLE wasn’t punishment enough, he was stuck there with this team of misfits. Ian recognized he was part of that collective label, but he accepted it. He’d rather be that than other things. Like dead.
He looked over at Cal. The guy was a true pain in the ass. He was acting like a damned tourist, snapping off pictures here and there. This wasn’t some sightseeing tour they were on, for God’s sake. They were assembled to accomplish a mission. One in which the stakes were of the highest caliber. Yet here this guy was, acting like he was oblivious to the danger. All of them acted as if this was perfectly normal, aside from when the short Bolivian man pointed out that bug.
Ian felt a pinch on his neck and swatted at it. This whole damn place gave him the heebie-jeebies and made his skin crawl. It was quite possible that nothing had bitten him except his imagination. But on the flip side, it was just as possible something had and that he might not make it till morning.
-
Chapter 31
BRODY FULLER REALIZED HE’D BE on scene a little longer. Calls to Sophie Jones’s phone met with voice mail, and uniformed officers had visited her apartment to find no one was home. At this point, she was considered missing and the possible victim of a crime.
&nb
sp; Brody sent McKenzie on his way after taking the driver’s statement. His griping about losing towing fares by sticking around had gotten on Brody’s last nerve. Once Crime Scene finished processing the area, the guy would be called back.
Investigators scoured the vehicle with microscopic intensity while Brody tried to secure witness accounts. If he found someone who’d seen the Accent dropped off, he’d be closer to finding out exactly what was going on.
At times like this he wished for a junior partner. Otherwise, he was more than happy to work solo. There was no small talk or bonding required. Attachment to another person wasn’t necessary to get the job done. In fact, emotional connection complicated things and just left a vulnerability for criminals to take advantage of.
If he had a lackey, the poor schmuck would be the one scouting for vagrants amid garbage and makeshift shelters of tattered blankets, tarps, fishing rods, and broomsticks. Brody would be at Sophie’s apartment, which was no doubt a Ritz-Carlton compared to this area of the city, even if discarded clothes covered her floors and dirty dishes lined her counters.
Brody focused elsewhere, summoning up the imagery of him lounging on his leather couch, a football game on TV, a whiskey on the rocks in his hand, and chicken wings on his plate. They were his one true vice. As the conjured smell of honey garlic teased his sinuses, he was hit with the onslaught of…rotting meat?
He gagged and coughed. Tears welled, hindering his vision, but he caught the vagrant quickly shutting his eyes, pretending to still be asleep.
“Hey, you! Get up.” Brody kept his attention on the man and watched his eyes flutter open, at first only to a slit. “I know you’re awake. I need to talk to you.”
The man let out a deep moan, keeping up the pretense of being roused from a deep sleep.
“Get up.” Brody barked the directive this time and clapped his hands.
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