Path of the Jaguar Page 10

  Lennea watched Delores disappear into thick trees. She expected Wesley to follow after her. He cared so much. She could see that in the heavy way he turned and seated himself on a rock beside his books. She felt as sick as he looked, betrayed by them both.

  How long had their affair been going on? How could she have been so blind, so stupid? Lennea's heart unthawed to pain. She had shared her dreams of Wesley only with Delores. She had told no one else, not Mom, not even Val.

  It's not fair! A voice inside her groped its way through her pain to defend Wesley. She could not blame him. Wesley had no idea how much or how long she had loved him. Only Delores knew. Delores, not Wesley, had deceived her.

  She heard the roar of a vehicle from the top of the slope. Delores leaving. Anger and pity mingled and at last surfaced as hope. The pathway to Wesley was now open and clear. She told herself that she owed Delores no loyalty. Now when Wesley, her idol, was so deeply hurt.

  As Lennea approached she noticed how self-consciously Wesley reached for his notebook and pretended absorption.

  "The one person I can count on," he said. His deep blue eyes raised from the book, watching her approvingly. Then, abstractedly, he inquired, "Where's Paco?"

  "Wood-carving."

  "God help the art world."

  Lennea saw how his mouth set in a tight line, how his words held an edge of bitterness. She waited for him to make some mention of Delores.

  Lennea's heart pounded. Her mouth felt dry. To know, and yet have to pretend that she knew nothing about his meeting with Delores, was awkward, difficult. "I saw Delores yesterday," she said finally. "She's flying back to the States."

  Wesley turned a page of the book. Nothing about their broken love affair, not a word about the angry scene she had just witnessed.

  "I thought Delores might have stopped by to talk to you."

  "Delores is irresponsible." Wesley attempted to shrug away all association with her. "Anyway,' he added coldly, "Delores is no longer important to this project—to us."

  "I see." Troubled, Lennea avoided his eyes. Wesley hadn't exactly lied about seeing Delores. But it was obvious that he preferred to keep his meeting with her a secret. His evasion left Lennea feeling even more hurt.

  "Lennea." Hopefully she turned toward him. He was gazing at her deeply, searchingly. The blue eyes, so brilliant without the shield of dark lenses, sparkled with a strange intensity. "We need to talk."

  Lennea's voice trembled slightly. "What about, Wesley?"

  Maybe now he would confide in her. She waited, anxious to console, ready to forgive. But his words had nothing to do with Delores. Instead, he said with great fervor, as if nothing else in the world seemed to matter. "I am in the midst of the most exciting discovery in my life!"

  "Discovery?" His words took her totally by surprise.

  "I can't keep it to myself any longer. Lennea, I have decided to share it with you!" Wesley rose. "There's no way to explain something like this. I'll have to show you."

  Curiously Lennea followed close beside him as he wound through dense trees. Their being alone together was soiled by Delores, but not totally ruined. Lennea could not let it be ruined. She had dreamed too long to let go of her fantasy at the very moment it was materializing. Lennea and Wesley Hern were walking together in the depth of the jungle! She watched his carefully polished boots, the slender legs clad in tan trousers.

  Lennea knew that she should be trying to catch up with Delores and making certain she was put safely on a plane, but leaving Wesley now when she sensed how much she was needed was too much to ask of herself. "I'm anxious to get started with the excavation," she said as they approached the rubble of stone from the huge south temple.

  He laughed, a short, hollow sound. "Tikom, that pile of rocks, is merely a prop—a stage to prompt creative thinking."

  "You mean you don't expect to find anything here?"

  "Nothing worthwhile. What I've found is going to make my name known throughout the world. Lennea, I'm certain that it has never been discovered!"

  Lennea began to absorb his excitement.

  "It's a very long walk." He pointed to the west. "We're going to follow the line of the hollow as far as you can see it." He stopped walking to gaze at her. "In my spare time, I explore. Did I tell you about the time I crawled into a cave and came face to face with a wounded jaguar?"

  "No, what did you do?"

  "I crawled out very quickly."

  "It's good practice never to disturb anyone's gods."

  Wesley's laughter made her feel lighthearted. The anger, the hurt, the extreme paleness, had faded from his face.

  "Sid was telling me about seeing jaguars here. Sid and his family have been so kind to me. What responsibility they must have! Sid said they owned hotels in every major Mexican city."

  Wesley's smile returned, but this time it was thin. "Sid is a very likable fraud. Not anyone I thought you would be taken in by."

  "Why, I can't picture—"

  "Oh, maybe not a fraud. I believe Sid actually thinks he is a billionaire and that everyone he meets has appeared to him fully-robed from heaven." The brilliant blue eyes ignited with a spark of cynical amusement. "Sid's chains of hotels consist of a very shaky establishment in Veracruz and a partially finished monster in Cancun. Actually, he keeps busy juggling the funds in order to survive, and pacifying dear old Dad, who did well enough in his day, I suppose."

  "I wouldn't have believed any of that."

  "That's why I still grade your papers," Wesley said. The observation made a tight feeling in the pit of her stomach. How many other people had she naively misjudged? Their talk ceased as Wesley speeded his step toward a nearby ruin, where abruptly he stopped. Lennea's eyes fell to where he gazed. Someone had used a sharp instrument to chip and even force loose portions of rock, making bare, ugly gaps in the ornately etched sections of stone.

  "Damned souvenir hunters!" Wesley cursed.

  "They do so much harm," Lennea echoed, recognizing the mutilated visage of the rain god, Chac. "They don't realize how much meaning they take with them."

  "They don't care. Common thieves! Looters are one of the biggest problems Mexico faces."

  Lennea looked around the isolated, unprotected jungle and saw how impossible it would be to stop them. Wesley walked on in silence. The fast pace of his step was tiring.

  He had to wait for her again. "Lennea, I have that lecture scheduled for tomorrow in Merida—at the University, one o'clock. I'm going to have to ask you to take it over for me. I've got to be free to make preparations for my find."

  Her throat felt suddenly dry. Take over Wesley's lecture! Tomorrow! "Why, I—I haven't anything planned."

  "Don't worry about that," Wesley said. "Just pick up some of your old class papers."

  "But if you're not there, everyone will be so disappointed! You know they'll be expecting you to talk about Wrought in Stone".

  "All you have to do is stall them," he replied impatiently, as if the lecture was barely worth discussion. "Just kill time. Talk about anything and everything. They won't expect much out of you."

  Lennea's cheeks felt flushed, yet the warmth had nothing to do with the humid air. Surely, Wesley didn't mean that the way it sounded. "I know I can't replace you, but I certainly want to say something worth their effort."

  "You'll think of something. After all, that's your job." A small smile showed at the corner of his well-formed lips. When he looked at her like that, so winning and persuasive, Lennea couldn't possibly oppose him. Even if she was terrified at the thought of giving such an important lecture alone.

  An idea began to take form in Lennea's mind. "Wesley, you know how carefully I've followed the notes on your book. What if I give them a little preview tomorrow? I could talk about that new theory you're proving." Enthusiasm rushed her words, making her breathless. "I could talk about epidemics that have forced great societies to crumble. I could prepare them for the conclusions you reach in your book."

  "No, no, Lenne
a. Stay with the facts. Leave the theories to me.

  As silence fell around them, Lennea tried to conceal the sting of his emphatic dismissal of her idea. Did he think her unworthy to discuss his new book?

  "There's a reason why I don't want Wrought in Stone mentioned," he said finally. A feverish look came into his eyes. "I may have to make some changes. Lennea, what I've discovered out here is brand new evidence! What I am showing you today is a well—an untouched Sacred Well!"

  "Wesley!" She burst out in awe.

  "Think of it, Lennea." The very air around him seemed charged with electricity. "A totally undiscovered sacred cenote!"

  "How—how did you come across it?"

  He gave a little laugh. "I stumbled on to it, in fact, I almost stumbled into it. It was so covered over with weeds and debris that I'm certain it has never been explored. I'm going to get permission to dredge the water. Gold. Jewels. No telling what offerings we'll uncover. This is the great find of the century! It will make Wrought in Stone a worldwide sensation. But I have to be cautious; just in case we gather evidence that might work contrary to my theory."

  "And in the meantime, what do I tell your eager students?"

  "You just be my little straw man and let me handle the details."

  "But I'm the one who is going to have to face them tomorrow with nothing to talk about."

  Her protests seemed to bother him, but he was able to brush his annoyance away. "Trust in inspiration. You'll know just what to say when the time comes." His lean, warm hand touched hers briefly in a gesture of reassurance. It did little to lessen her fears. But the lecture, like Delores, she could put aside. Let tomorrow take care of them both.

  Wesley had now begun to climb up a steep slope, where they faced a mass of trees. "We're almost there," he said. His rapid step left her far behind. Suddenly, he stopped short. "Lennea, my very own sacred cenote!"

  Reluctantly now, Lennea approached. The opening revealed to her was small in diameter, the water so thick it didn't look like water at all.

  "Don't get too close," Wesley warned. "What looks like earth is tangles of underbrush grown across the well. Over here, you can get the best view."

  Lennea gazed down a precipitous slope of rock into green, stagnant water as warm as the afternoon rains. The cenote looked forbidding, evil. The water had absorbed the olive reflections from the encircling trees, whose crooked limbs bent over it as if in some eerie worship. She could imagine she saw dark images floating in the water—human figures struggling against the fathomless depths which waited in perfect stillness to enfold them.

  Lennea shuddered and turned to face Wesley. He reached out for her, warm fingers grasping her bare arms. "My well," he said quietly, "our well. I'm glad you're here to share this moment."

  Lennea felt a slight chill next to her heart. If not for their argument, it might have been Delores standing here now, Delores sharing the thrill of discovery with Wesley. If things had worked out differently, would Wesley even have told Lennea about the well? She pushed the thought quickly out of her mind. She would not torture herself about what might have happened, what now never would happen. She was the one here with Wesley now, not Delores. And Wesley wanted her! Lean hands slid down her arms. His eyes looked into hers in an instant of closeness. Thin lips brushed lightly against hers.

  Lennea waited, hoping his lips would part and meet hers again. The dark pupils of his blue eyes seemed to enlarge. They seemed deeper, more full of treasure than the pool they stood beside. His hands softly stroked her arms. "Lennea, he said, as if he had never seen her before.

  But the passion or whatever it had been that had prompted him to kiss her became lost. "We've got so much to do," he said. Wesley had moved away and stood looking into the well. Lennea watched him, hoping that he wouldn't be disappointed. She wanted to pray that this well would give him exactly what he wanted. Then, what? Another vision, a larger goal. Was Wesley ever going to stop long enough to savor his success? That was ambition, genius. Would Lennea be able to trudge beside him on such a path?

  They fell into step together and naturally, now, his hand slid down her arm and long fingers entangled themselves in hers. "There's a Sound and Light show Tuesday night," he said, as if he had tapped into her thoughts. "Would you like to go with me?"

  "I've been hearing all about it. I'd love to go."

  "I'll be by for you at eight."

  Lennea's happiness was as penetrating as the jungle air. She said nothing, allowed her joy to float with them as they retraced their steps back toward Tikom.

  "So much to do," Wesley said again. "Endless revisions. And without benefit of a secretary."

  "I can help with the typing," Lennea volunteered.

  "I'll get someone from the university."

  "I'm sorry about Delores..." Lennea's voice trailed off leaving awkwardness between them. She glanced away from the darkness that had come into his eyes. She wondered why she had deliberately mentioned Delores' name. Delores now intervened, separating Lennea from Wesley and from her short-lived sense of happiness.

  Wesley had let go of her hand and now walked slightly ahead of her down the slope. Because of the trees they still could not see Tikom, although it was less than a mile away.

  "Wait!"

  Startled, Wesley looked back at her.

  "There's someone down there."

  "No one would..." Wesley started, but his voice faded as he listened intently.

  Whoever it was walked in the same direction they walked, only much faster.

  "It's only Paco," Wesley said.

  "He told me he'd be busy today. What's he doing so far from the site?"

  "Worrying about me!" Wesley laughed. Forgetting Lennea, he walked rapidly on, calling, "Frank!"

  Below them, Frank stopped, stared around blankly, trying to locate Wesley's voice.

  "You lost, Paco?"

  Frank removed his hat and wiped his forehead. He waited until they both reached him to say. "Goldie thought you might really need me today. When I didn't find anyone working, I got worried."

  "I am glad to see you, Paco," Wesley said. "I may have some problems with the government again. I need a special permit for an area beyond Tikom." Wesley's voice dropped as he went on talking about permits and local government.

  "Goldie was right!" Frank interrupted. "You do need my help! I just happen to have a very good friend in Merida."

  "It's good to know someone who knows someone."

  "What did you say you needed this permit for?"

  Wesley's bright eyes shone as they met Lennea's in a conspiratorial manner. "I can't tell you anymore now. But we just may be on the trail of something big!"

  Lennea fell slightly behind as they neared the excavation site. Joseph had arrived. He had wandered to the top steps of an ancient temple, where he stood looking down at them like a high priest surveying his domain.

  "I'm going to Merida," Wesley told him as they approached.

  Joseph frowned. "I thought we were going to begin excavating the south temple." He spoke to Wesley, but he was staring straight at Lennea, his eyes solid and opaque. They might have been black glass set in rock.

  Feeling frightened, Lennea drew closer to Wesley. At the same time, Wesley's hand gripped hers possessively.

  "I've canceled my plans to be here," Joseph stated coldly. "Something has come up," Wesley said. "It looks now as if we can't possibly begin before Monday."

  "Lennea and I can start today."

  Lennea's breath caught. She didn't want to be alone with Joseph! With relief she heard Wesley say, "No, I'm afraid not. Not without me."

  "Your assistant should be able to carry on without you."

  "Lennea has a lecture to prepare for tomorrow." Wesley, acting distracted, glanced at his watch. "If I'm going to get to Merida before noon, Paco, we had better get started."

  Lennea watched him gather up his notebooks and without another word, start away. Alone, Lennea faced the unspoken accusation in Joseph's dark eyes, ey
es that had still not left her face.

  "So you're going to give Hern's lecture tomorrow. How did he dump that on you?"

  "It's my job, to assist him."

  "Assist him, or do his work for him?" Joseph demanded.

  The closeness, the deep attraction, from the night of the dinner party had vanished. She saw Joseph through Delores' eyes, someone to be distrusted and feared. With a stab of uneasiness, she heard the sound of Wesley and Frank's leaving. "I must go," she said quickly. As she walked away, she felt the black gleam of his eyes upon her back.

  Delores had jilted Joseph. And he had threatened her life. Lennea knew Joseph was close behind her as she hurried down the hill where she had parked the jeep. His footsteps made no sound. She felt subtly endangered, just as she had that night in the jungle when she knew someone was stalking her.

  "What about our date?"

  Lennea's heart pounded unevenly in her chest. She forced herself to face him. "What do you mean, our date?"

  "The Sound and Light Show."

  "I'll probably be there," she replied evasively. For an instant she felt that she, like Delores, was jilting him for Wesley Hern.

  The tightness of his lips, his narrowed eyes, frightened her. Anger, carefully controlled, made his voice dangerous. "You were going to the Sound and Light Show with me."

  "I'm sorry. But I never made any promises."

  "You're going with Hern, aren't you?"

  Lennea did not answer him. She fled to the jeep. As she backed it up, she caught one more glimpse of Joseph.

  The mask of civility had fallen away, revealing outrage. Fury curled his mouth, tightened the hard muscles of his jutting features. His eyes, no longer opaque, seemed hot enough to sear her skin.