“You finished?” he asked.
“Stuffed.”
He threw some money on the table. “Let’s go.”
They left the café and went to their rented Bronco. Hunter didn’t see anyone who cared. Lina’s neck didn’t itch.
“I’ll drive,” she said. “You check on Jase.”
Hunter didn’t argue. She knew the way better than he did.
The Cancun-Chetumal highway was two lanes of divided road in either direction. There was jungle crowding on both sides, giving only rare glimpses of the ocean that was close enough to taste as an underlying tang in the air pouring through the open windows.
Hunter changed chips in his phone and called Jase at the hospital. As he waited for the call to connect, he noticed a flash of color on the right. Another shrine overflowing with flowers and offerings of food and liquor. By the time he was put through to Jase’s room, a second shrine flashed by on the left.
To Hunter’s shock, Jase answered his own call.
“’Lo?”
“Jase, it’s me, Hunter. What are you doing answering the phone?”
“Enjoying being alive.” Jase’s words were a bit slow and slightly breathless, but otherwise strong. “’Sup?”
“I took Lina and ran south.”
“Good. Bullets hurt like a bitch.”
“Brubaker off your ass?” Hunter asked. He damn well better be.
“Off it? Hell, he’s kissing it. Dude’s rolling in artifacts.”
“What?”
“Got ’em all back and then some,” Jase said.
“Wait, are you telling me that the missing artifacts have been returned, obsidian mask and all?”
Lina shot Hunter a startled look, then went back to driving. But she kept listening real hard.
“Close enough for government work,” Jase said.
“Amigo, you’re not making sense. I’ll call later.”
Jase kept talking. “Snake’s lawyer delivered the box, from what I heard. Said he had a client with a dirty conscience. Now it’s clean.”
“Snakeman’s lawyer coughed up the artifacts?” Hunter asked in disbelief. “Did the lawyer say where the artifacts came from?”
“Janitor stole them to pay Snakeman a gambling bet.”
“Bullshit.”
“Yeah,” Jase said, “but it grows mighty fine roses. Even if they aren’t what you planted.”
Ali’s voice came in the background, talking to the nurse. It was time for Jase’s pain shot.
“Give it to me while I’m on the phone,” Jase said.
Hunter knew he’d have to talk fast. Pain meds tended to hit Jase like a landslide.
“So you have artifacts,” Hunter said, “even if they aren’t exactly what went missing?”
“Yeah. They’re in real good shape, too. Like new.”
“And Brubaker’s buying it?”
“Ouch! You using a twelve-gauge needle?” Then, “Brubaker ain’t looking in no gift pony’s mouth. ICE will be front and center at the re-pa-tri-a-tion ceremony. Gold star in my file. Maybe a raise, new title.”
“Are you high?”
“Getting there. Damn, the drugs in here are prime. Hey, darling, c’mon over and give your big stud a kiss.”
Ali’s giggle came through the connection, then the sound of a kiss. Over Jase’s muttered protests, she took the phone.
“Hunter?”
“Hi, Ali. Sounds like our boy is feeling good.”
“The stuff they give him hits him hard and fast. Otherwise he wants to get up and go home.”
“He said something about Brubaker.”
“Whatever the boss was so upset about is over,” Ali said. “I don’t know the details, but Brubaker got his hands on a box of old stuff and he’s doing the happy dance around Jase’s bed. I don’t understand any of it, but Brubaker can’t say enough nice things about Jase.”
“Huh.” Hunter saw a riot of color whip by on the left side of the road. Another shrine. Rodrigo’s words echoed in his mind.
Death is out there. A hard death.
And the locals were praying like hell that death didn’t find them.
“…out of danger,” Ali said. “He’s recovering so fast the doctors are amazed. He’s in a regular hospital room now.”
Hunter snapped back into focus. He smiled as a weight he hadn’t realized was there shifted off his chest. “He always did heal fast. Give your big stud a kiss for me.”
Ali snickered. “I’ll be sure to tell him it’s from you.”
The instant Hunter turned off the phone, Lina said, “What’s going on?”
“Someone returned the stolen artifacts, or something close enough that Brubaker doesn’t care.”
“That’s…” Her voice died.
Hunter laughed without humor. “Yeah. But Jase is off the hook and recovering so fast the docs are smiling.”
“So if we assume that the artifacts and the kidnap attempt on me are connected…” she began.
Hunter waited.
“Because the coincidences are pretty overwhelming otherwise,” she added. “So I should be safe now.”
He didn’t answer.
“Well, hell,” she said.
“Pretty much. None of this makes sense. Until it does, I’m all over you like fur on a bunny.”
A spark of color up on the right resolved into another roadside shrine.
“Pull over,” Hunter said. “I want a closer look at that.”
“And you want to make sure we’re not being followed.”
“Two birds, one stone.”
Lina slowed and carefully pulled off the paved highway. They bumped to a stop ten feet from the shrine. Unlike other parts of the highway, no trash was scattered near the shrine. The only bottles there were full, offerings left by believers. The only paper or plastic was in the flowers, though many were fresh. The arms of the cross were longer than was usual for a Christian symbol.
The flowers were brilliant yellow and scarlet and purple against the white limestone crumbles of the roadside. The cascade of petals was interrupted by candles of various sizes and shapes. The cross was covered in snakeskin that the reptile hadn’t shed willingly. Bright feathers were glued to the cross. They moved in the lightest breeze, like they were somehow alive, breathing.
“That’s the fifth one of these that we’ve seen out in the open since Playa del Carmen,” Hunter said.
“Normally you see a roadside shrine and they’re for someone who died in a crash along the highway or something,” Lina said. “They aren’t really legal, but it’s an old custom. They just appear overnight and gradually fade into the jungle.”
“Whoever put this shrine out was pretty brazen. Or else drivers on the highway don’t really care what happens on the side of the road. Must have a lot of accidents here.”
“I don’t remember this many shrines. And there aren’t any pictures or names of loved ones.” Lina rubbed her fingers together, as though trying to clean them. “Flowers don’t smell like this. Like death.”
“I was thinking that.”
“This is creepy, Hunter. Can’t you feel…something out here?”
The wind picked up, making the wall of vegetation rustle and shake as if something large slithered through the undergrowth. Wind whistled over the snakeskin, a sound like thin reptilian wings. The head of the snake appeared to be swallowing the cross from the top down.
For a moment everything felt dry, a forest fire or a desert riding on the restless wind.
“This is wrong,” she said.
Hunter agreed. “Not a quaint little roadside shrine. Someone around here is really into ancient gods.”
The snakeskin twitched in the wind, pulling like an animal wanting to be free.
Lina made a low sound.
“What?” Hunter asked instantly.
“This is an altar to Kukulcán. The cross isn’t here to pay lip service to Catholicism.” She shivered, though the temperature was warm. “This represents an ancient Maya belief system.”