by S. D. BROWN
He could have been hurt in a boating accident and ended up washed up on some deserted beach about to die. Alone. Or someone could have kidnapped him for ransom. He had an important job at Madison Hunter as their top product troubleshooter.
I examined the official looking envelope addressed to him and wondered. Could it be the ransom demand? Waiting in the resort office for who knows how long. Normally I don't open my dad's mail, but things weren't normal. Half afraid of what I'd find, I tore open the tough manila envelope. It's contents fell onto the tile floor.
Reaching down, I picked up an International Driver's License and opened it. Dad's serious business face stared up at me.
A knock sounded on the door. I hid both letters under a pillow and went to peek through the privacy viewer. To my relief, it was Raul.
I unbolted it and let him in.
Grinning, he held up a large clear plastic bag full of what looked like an assortment of papers in one hand and a set of car keys in the other. "What's above, eyebrow?"
Okay, I thought, translating his last attempt at slang in my head. "Oh. What's up? " I said.
"Yeah, man," he said. "That's what I said. So cut me some pants."
Even though I was totally worried about Dad, I had to laugh. "Slack, not pants. Cut me some slack."
His brow crinkled. "Aren't pants and slacks the same?"
"Yes, but the kind of slack you mean is different. It's…" I couldn't think of a good way to explain. "Just trust me. Cut me some slack."
"Okay, I cut you some slack." he said, shaking his head. "American slang is confusing. Here's the stuff from your father's first rental car. And here are the keys to his second rental car. Let me show you its space."
"Sounds good."
13: Serena
The advantage of the emotions is that they lead us astray, and the advantage of science is that it is not emotional.
Oscar Wilde
AZTEC PALACE RESORT
CANCUN RIVIERA
When I rejoined Harry and Mum, it was obvious their honeymoon was on hold. If anything, she seemed even more annoyed with him than ever. Unfortunately that annoyance spilled onto me.
"Serena," Mum said, sounding superior. "You need to up your flirting game. Your performance was pathetic. I thought you were an experienced agent."
"Things between me and J.T. are moving just fine," I said. "Kids have changed since you were my age. Guys don't like desperate."
Harry belted out a huge snort. "She nailed you there, wife-y."
"Shut up Harry," Mum snapped. "The clock is ticking. We don't have all week for you to develop a relationship with the boy."
"I don't need all week." I turned to watch Harry fiddle with the monitors. All three were illuminated.
"And Harry," Mum said, "purchase some breath mints before we have to appear in public again."
"Sure thing. Anything for my little darling." He gave her a big fake grin. Mum retreated to her private space. To me he said, "Looks like the cameras are operational except the one in the suite's living room. Unfortunately, that's the most important one."
"What about the volume? Can you turn it up?""
"Sure." He turned up the volume and I heard J.T. say, "Lead on. Hey, what kind of a car is it?"
"A red convertible Mustang," answered an unfamiliar guy's voice. From his accent, he must be a resort employee.
"Awesome." J.T. said.
Next we heard the door slam.
"The boy's headed to the parking lot," Harry said. "Maybe I can get into his unit and replace the camera."
"Think you'll have enough time? It'd be bad if he caught you in the act."
"Got that right. But if something goes wrong, your loving mother will throw me under the bus. But if I don't, she'll say I missed important intell because I didn't do my job. A rock and a hard place."
"It'd be her word against mine," I said, thinking this was a great opportunity to get him on my side. "Let me help."
He frowned. "I don't know. You're a smart kid, but it'll be my neck in the noose if I don't play this right."
I slid open the balcony door, leaned out and had a first class view of the walkway which ran from J.T.'s unit past ours. "Perfect timing. They just walked by. Let's hurry."
"Slow down, little miss. We have to have a plan before we act."
"I have one. I'll be your lookout. If he returns before you're done, I'll delay him with what Mum called my vapid flirting skills."
Harry nodded. "Great thinking. Just let me lock down the monitors. We don't want your Mum to mess with them while we're out. "
"You mean you can block her access?" I grinned.
"You bet your booty. It's a simple as . . ." He quickly typed in a code word and hit the return button on the keyboard. "Don't worry your pretty head about it."
What Harry didn't realize is that he'd given me the password. At my first opportunity, I'd log on and do a little of my own reprogramming.
"And for the record you did just fine with the boy. He was definitely interested." He dropped a tiny surveillance camera into a hot fuchsia-colored beach tote. "Time to ride. Here, you carry the bag. It's more your style."
In less than five minutes, Harry was inside. I waited on a nearby bench strategically placed in the shade of a decorative banana tree. At least with the advancing late afternoon the air had begun to cool, but was still laced with a cloying moisture. Before long, I felt like I was in need of another shower. And a strong dose of bug repellant. Talk about false advertisements. The glossy travel brochures for Cancun failed to expose the perils of its vicious tropical climate.
Something tickled my arm. Gross. A huge mosquito had its proboscis planted in my skin. My reflexes kicked in and I swatted myself hard. The loud slap stung and left a streak of splattered blood in its wake.
"Hurry up, Harry," I said. "Or I'll be a spawning ground for a malaria outbreak."
My mobile rang. A quick look at the caller I.D. made me forget my petty discomforts.
"Uncle Monte! I'm soooo glad you called. Pretend Mum is insufferable and Harry is . . . well Harry."
"Pretend Mum?" He cleared his throat. "Well yes, I just spoke with Blanche."
"So that's her real name. It suits her. I wager her surname is Tattle."
"Serena." Disappointment ricocheted from the phone.
"I'm sorry. It's just that she's treating me like a little kid. Doesn't she understand I'm a trained agent? This is my case and she works for me. Not the other way around. And, punishing my parents' killer is the reason for this mission."
"Part of the reason," he said in a low soothing voice.
"That's not what you said yesterday."
"The situation has changed."
"How? What's happened?"
"For one thing, I have Chapman in custody."
"Fantastic. You'll take care of him and I don't have to pretend to make friends with the boy. The mission is complete." I slapped another pesky mosquito into oblivion.
"Not exactly. I still need you."
"For what?"
"There's more at stake than your revenge. Before we took him down, he managed to kidnap two of our top scientists. I want them back. And it's in your best interest that they're returned, too."
"Why?"
"Because there's a small glitch in your internal computer. Haven't you noticed your batteries have been draining at a faster rate? Their deterioration is accelerating and we don't know why."
I suddenly felt cold and a hard lump formed in my center, spreading like a cancer. If my internal computer failed, I'd become a paraplegic, this time for life. "How much time do I have?"
"I'm not sure. The two kidnapped scientists had just made a breakthrough discovery. That's the reason they were in Mexico. To train the on-site scientists in our Latin American lab to begin production."
"Why Mexico?"
"Fewer regulations. Mr. Chapman snatched the scientists before they were able to implement the plan. They disappeared along with all of their research
data."
My mouth went dry. "You knew this before you sent me, didn't you?"
"Yes, but I wanted you to focus on the boy and not your fear."
"I'm focused."
"You're sure you want to continue? Under the circumstances I'd understand if you came home."
"Just tell me what you want me to do."
"Get close to the boy. Photograph him. Find out how much he knows about what his father was up to. Stick to him like glue. When the time is right, we'll use the boy to force the father give up the location of the scientists."
"Hey, Rena." Speak of the devil's spawn. J.T. He gave me a half smile and I mentally kicked myself. I hadn't even noticed his approach.
"Oops, sorry. You're on your phone," he whispered, held up both hands and started to back away.
I shook my head and motioned for him to wait. I couldn't let him walk in on Harry in the act of planting the camera. "I've got to go, Uncle Monte. I'll get back to you later. Bye."
I pocketed my phone, but not before I snapped a photo of J.T. for Uncle Monte. Hopefully it'd serve as a suitable weapon against the man who'd killed my parents. I smiled and tried to look like I hadn't just heard the worst news of my life. "Find your dad?" I asked, keeping one eye out for Harry.
J.T.'s face turned grim. "He's a no show."
"You mean he stood you up?"
He looked uncomfortable, like he wasn't sure he wanted to tell me what was going on in his head. Behind him Harry exited the unit, gave me a thumbs up and disappeared around the corner of the building. I was impressed. He might seem like a dufus, but it was obvious why my uncle had hired him. His exit was smooth, like an experienced cat burglar.
"Maybe I can help," I said. "Be your sounding board. I know what it's like to have stupid parents." I heard a buzzing and felt a sting on my cheek. I slapped and when I looked at my hand, it was blood stained. "Three down and a million to go."
J.T. seemed to make up his mind to trust me. "My dad's not stupid. He's missing."
"Missing?" I willed my eyes to open wide like I'd unexpectedly plopped down on a prickly hedgehog. "Like kidnapped? In a foreign country?"
"No. He's not really missing. It's just his way of trying to make my vacation seem more exciting. I think he wants me to track him down." Slap. He looked at his hand. "Make that five down and nine-hundred-ninety-nine-thousand, nine-hundred-ninety-eight to go."
His attempt at humor was sweet. This assignment would be so much easier if he were a jerk. Still, it was obvious he was lying. There was no way he thought his dad was playing some hide-and-seek game. Of course we had just met. It would have been a bit strange if he'd told me his deepest, darkest secrets on such a short acquaintance.
"I'm pretty good at ciphers," I said. "I could help you find him. If you don't think he'd consider that cheating."
"Hey, let's escape to a bug free zone?" he said. "I have the whole condo to myself. And we can talk private like."
"That sounds like a great idea." Slap. "Six. I'll leave the countdown to you. Mathematics is not my vocation."
"Mathematics is not my vocation," he repeated in an attempt to replicate my accent. He must have misread my amusement, because he added a rush of words. "Hey, I'm not making fun of you. I love the way you talk. It's cool. Kind of like being on a movie set. If you know what I mean."
Chapter 14: J.T.
In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.
Proverbs 2:6
AZTEC PALACE RESORT
CANCUN RIVIERA
Stupid comment number five-hundred-and-fifty-three rolled off my tongue like an out of control snowboarder with diarrhea racing for the ski lodge at the bottom of the slope.
"You should get some Calamine lotion or something," I said. "That spot on your nose looks like it's about to erupt."
Her hand flew to the bump. "Oh," she said, her face blazing a darker shade of red than the mosquito bite.
We were sitting at the glass topped kitchen table, drinking lemonade I'd found in the fridge. The plastic bag Raul had brought me from Dad's rental car sat in the center of the table.
"You must be really allergic." Why couldn't I keep my big mouth shut? What was it about this girl that morphed me totally brainless? "Does it hurt?"
"You have toothpaste? Or deodorant?" she said.
"Sure, yeah." I raced into my bedroom and rummaged through my bag. Time to get my priorities in order I told myself and grabbed a tube of minty fresh Crest and my Brute roll-on. Why was I so fixated on this girl?
It was like she'd cast a voodoo spell on me. Sure she was cute. But my dad was missing. That's what I should be focused on. Not trying to impress her. I made a fist and air punched. That settled that. I'd think of her as one of the guys and focus on finding Dad.
If Rena could help, it'd be great. If not, then I'd go it solo.
Either way, I'd let her think that this was a game that Dad and I had played before. A sophisticated kind of hide-and-seek and it was my turn to be the seeker. Telling her the truth could be a real disaster if she was like most girls. Any hint of possible danger and she'd get all hyper and hysterical. I didn't need that.
When I came out with the supplies, she was reading Mom's ring of laminated Bible verses.
"I didn't take you for a religious zealot?" she said. "You don't look the type."
"I'm not." I took them from her and gave her the deodorant and toothpaste. "It's homework."
She sniffed the deodorant, made a face and set it on the table. "I thought religion was banned in American schools."
"Only in the public ones. I go to the Christian Academy in Phoenix. And not by choice. It was my Mom's idea."
"Oh." She squeezed some toothpaste on her finger and started dabbing it on her mosquito bites.
"Why are you doing that?"
"May not be glamorous, but it suppresses the itch. Want some on your arm?"
"Sure. Why not." My skin tingled when her finger made contact. There's a reason wounded soldiers fall for their nurses. Her soft touch zapped my brain cells to my toes. So much for my vow to pretend she was a guy, but I had to try. I pinched my leg under the table and told myself to focus.
"Are these the trail of clues your father left for you to follow?" She nodded at the bag of stuff from the car.
"Yeah." I flipped the bag and dumped it on the table. There were receipts, maps, some tourist brochures, four pens, a penlight, matches and a little pocket-sized red notebook. The notebook wasn't Dad's style, but when I flipped it open I recognized his handwriting. Just a bunch of numbers and a list of every-day Spanish words.
hola - hi amigo - friend buenas días - good day
baño - toilet chi' - mouth adiós - goodbye
por favor - please donde esta - where is? Gracias - thank you
I looked up to see her quickly sorting through a stack of receipts.
"I'm sorting the receipts into chronological order," Rena said. "That way we can track his movements."
"Great idea."
"Do you have notepaper?"
"No, but there's a whole roll of paper towels."
She laughed. "You write, I'll read. Ready? Friday the seventeenth he bought coffee at the airport at 7:00 am. Same day, he picked up his rental at 7:22 am. At 8:15 am he made a purchase at the Ciudad Mercado and spent $24.95. 5:45 pm on Saturday he spent $425.75 at the Tortuga Dive Shop."
By the time we finished with the receipts, I had a pretty good picture of what Dad had been up to until four days earlier. That's where the receipt trail stopped.
"This last receipt is for parking at Chichén Itzá," Rena said.
"Which is what?"
"Chichén Itzá is an ancient Mayan city."
"Okay."
"With pyramids."
"Cool."
"And its literal translation is, at the mouth of the well of the Itza. Chi' means mouth. Ch'en means well. Itzá is the name of the ethnic group that gained dominance of the northern peninsula." She frowned. "Not that you probabl
y wanted all that information."
"It's all good." I said, thinking she'd make a great encyclopedia. "The more I know about Dad's last known location the better." I shook out the bag and one last little red, green and yellow card dropped onto the table. "Whoa! Almost missed this clue, and it's the best one yet. A business card for Armando Perez. Licensed tour guide for Chichén Itzá. Finally, a place to start the investigation. You think your parents will mind?"
"Mind what?"
"You taking a little trip to see the pyramids this afternoon."
She shook her head. "The site closes in half an hour and it's at least a two-hour-drive from here. Plus we'll have to find a driver and rent a car."
I pulled the keys to the rental Mustang from my pocket and jiggled them in the air. "We have the car. I'll drive."
"You have a license to operate a vehicle?"
I handed her Dad's International Driver's License.
She frowned. "I don't believe this is legal. Wrong photograph, name and birth date. How will you make it work?"
"It'll look legal by morning. Dad and I have the same name. The birth date can be easily smudged. And compliments of my mom's paranoia, I have extra passport photos on hand."
"And you know how to drive?"
"Are you kidding?" I asked her, not wanting to admit that most of my driving experience had been limited to go-carts, video games and backing Mom's car out of the garage when I had to wash it. How hard could it be? "Americans learn to drive in preschool."
"Okay," she said, not sounding all that enthused.
"We'll leave early. Seven sound good?"
"Sounds lovely. I should be going. See you bright and chipper in the morning."
15: Serena
The dead cannot cry out for justice; It is a duty of the living to do so for them.
Lois McMaster Bujold
Mexico 180D Toll Road
Yucatan Peninsula
