While he’d been drifting in and out of consciousness, she’d stayed continually by his side. Jack couldn’t remember any time he’d awakened and not found her there. Her smile was gentle, her words encouraging, her touch tender. The truth was, in all his life, Jack had never had anyone care this much about him.
And sometime during the past few days, he’d fallen in love with her. In love with a woman already married to another man.
In a different situation, he would have made his escape. Fled temptation. Gotten the hell out of her life before he screwed it up. But now there was no place to run. They were trapped on this boat together.
One option was to make her hate him, freeze her out, be cruel. Say or do something that would keep her at arm’s length. But Jack discovered he couldn’t. He was half-inclined to credit his lack of resolve to his weakened condition, but that was a lie and he knew it. He was in love with Lorraine, and loving her prevented him from saying or doing anything that would bring her pain. That included what he wanted most, which was to touch her the way a lover would. Kiss her, make love to her, cherish her.
He cursed his weakness the night before, when he’d touched her breast. He’d wanted to do a lot more and was fully aware that she would have let him. He also knew that in time she’d come to regret it. When she returned to her husband, he vowed she’d go undefiled, without remorse, free of guilt.
What made his love for Lorraine beautiful, Jack reflected, was its purity. His relationship with Marcie and every other woman in his life had its existence primarily in the physical.
Not so with Lorraine. Their relationship had a physical dimension, but more than that, it had an emotional depth, even a spiritual one. He was a man who’d lived his life on the edge, emotionally distant; now he found himself in unfamiliar territory.
“Morning,” Lorraine greeted him as she stepped onto the deck with breakfast. It was ten days after the shooting. “How are you feeling?”
“Better.” The first thing he noticed was that she didn’t sound quite like herself. He couldn’t stop looking at her. Sunlight surrounded her, giving her an angelic appearance. He wondered wryly if God planned to teach him a lesson and had sent Lorraine to torment him with all the might-have-beens.
Carrying the tray, she stepped out of the sunlight. Jack’s eyes narrowed when he saw her face. Something wasn’t right. She wasn’t good at hiding her emotions. It was one of the traits he liked so much about her.
“Raine.” He always called her that when he wanted a reaction.
She either ignored it or didn’t hear him. “I brought your breakfast.”
“What’s wrong?” He favored the direct approach.
She frowned at him as if she wondered how he knew.
“Tell me,” he ordered. He moved over, making space for her on the chair.
He read her hesitation. Then with a deep sigh, she sat down next to him. “Remember I told you I first tried to remove the bullet with tweezers?”
He nodded.
“Well…the tweezers were in my makeup case. I was in a hurry and I dumped out my purse on the mattress. I remember seeing something odd then, but didn’t take time to examine it. And afterward I just scooped everything up and put it back.”
“Something odd?”
“A…gold object. I didn’t know what it was or how it got into my bag, but it didn’t seem important at the time. I’m constantly putting things in my purse for one reason or another. I thought it might be a broken earring or a pin I’d forgotten. I didn’t think twice about it.”
“What is it?”
Lorraine reached for his hand and squeezed his fingers hard. “I…can’t tell you for sure what it is, but I can guess. And I have a strong suspicion about how it got there.”
“How?”
“Jason Applebee. I’m afraid it’s another artifact. Another of those star things.”
It’d been over a week now, and no one had seen or heard anything of Jack Keller, Lorraine Dancy or Scotch on Water. Jason had run the risk of capture and worse in his efforts to locate the woman—or more importantly, her purse. He was afraid she’d discovered the Mayan artifact he’d hidden inside the small zippered bag. If she hadn’t already found it, then it was only a matter of time.
At least he hadn’t put both pieces in her luggage. That would have been disastrous. To lose one half of the Kukulcan Star was bad enough, but both would be unthinkable. Intolerable. Too many people had already died. Mostly by his hand. Jason had put himself at risk time after time and refused to be thwarted now.
This penchant for killing had come as a surprise. Jason hadn’t realized he had any appetite for it. He’d prefer to avoid it, of course, but he’d learned that when it was a question of getting what he wanted murder came easy. Easier than he would’ve dreamed possible.
From the time he was a kid, archaeology had fascinated him, especially anything concerning the Maya. He’d studied it exhaustively, obsessively. As a teenager he’d come to identify with the Mayan god Kukulcan. Unlike him, though, Jason hadn’t taken a vow of celibacy. Hey, why should he deprive himself of sexual pleasure? Frankly he couldn’t see any reason not to indulge. In the end Kukulcan had broken his own vow and was overwhelmed by guilt. He’d set out on a snakeskin raft and sailed toward the east. According to myth, the raft had then burst into flames that consumed him. His heart rose heavenward and eventually merged with the sun. One day, it was said, Kukulcan would come back, and Jason had found the key to his promised return. He’d stolen the archaeological find of the century.
He felt his anger rise as he remembered that he’d already lost half the Star; he’d learned from the press and the radio that it had been returned to the museum—which meant it was more crucial than ever that he get the other half back.
But that half was in the possession of a woman, an imbecile who didn’t have a clue what she held in her hands.
Jason had called upon every resource available to him, to no avail. It was as if Scotch on Water had disappeared off the face of the earth, as if Lorraine and Jack Keller had vanished. Perhaps they’d been engulfed in flames themselves and drifted toward the sun. But they would resurface one day, and when they did, Jason would be waiting for them.
“Let me see it,” Jack said. He resisted the urge to touch Lorraine, to reassure her. He noticed that a strand of hair, so neatly tucked behind her ear, had escaped, and finding the impulse too strong, he replaced it.
Her eyes met his and she reached up to clasp his hand. Their fingers entwined and she leaned forward and braced her forehead against his good shoulder.
“Hey, what’s got you so worried?” he asked. “Your friend isn’t going to find us. Hell, I don’t even know exactly where we are.”
Lorraine’s only response was a tremulous sigh.
“Get the artifact for me,” he said, “and I’ll take a look and tell you what I know.” Living in Mexico, Jack had learned a fair amount about Mayan mythology and culture.
Lorraine left him and returned a couple of minutes later. “Here,” she said, and handed him a three-pointed gold object about the size of a silver dollar.
Jack turned it over in his hand and felt his excitement growing as he began to understand the significance of what he held. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered.
“What?”
“Let me ask you something first. Did you see the artifact the police found in your luggage?”
“No.”
“Did anyone tell you anything about it?”
Lorraine paused. “Jason was talking to me at the time, and everyone else was speaking Spanish. But I do remember them referring to a Mayan god.” She paused, as if going over the conversation, then shook her head. “I can’t recall the name.”
“Was it by any chance Kukulcan? Or Quetzalcoatl?”
She frowned. “That might have been it—the first one. Why?” She stared at the gold piece in her hand.
“If this is what I think it is, you’re holding the lost half of the Kukulcan Star.”
“A star,” she repeated. She turned it over. “I see where it could be a star—I guess.”
“Each half has three corresponding points,” he explained, taking it from her palm, “and the two halves link together.”
“Who was Quetzalcoatl?” she asked, the name stumbling awkwardly over her tongue. “The other one you mentioned.”
“In most of Mexico he’s known as Kukulcan, and he’s half man, half myth. There’s a lot of conflicting information about the Plumed Serpent, as he’s also called. And it seems there were two Mayan leaders who took the name Kukulcan, as well, and were looked on as gods. In any event, the Mayans believed this deity, the original one, descended from heaven and presented their society with the concepts of love and patience. He was said to have united them into a confederation of tribes.
“Unfortunately this state of utopia didn’t last long. He was tricked into breaking his vow of celibacy. Filled with guilt and regret, he set sail, promising one day to return. Only he promised to come back as the Morning Star, the symbol of regeneration and hope.”
“Is this the Morning Star, then? Why is it in two connecting parts?”
“That I can’t say, but if what I understand is correct, it solves the mystery of his supposed return. See these symbols?” He reverently handed her the artifact. “I don’t know what they mean, but I do know that when the halves are linked, the secret is supposed to be completely revealed. I don’t think the pieces ever have been linked. One half of the Star has been kept in a museum, since it was found in the 1930s.”
“Oh, my goodness!” Lorraine murmured, covering her mouth. “When I arrived in Mérida, I waited forever before I was able to clear customs. Someone said all the available agents were checking everyone departing the country, looking for a stolen museum piece.”
“Half of the Kukulcan Star,” Jack said.
“You think this is the other half?” Lorraine asked.
“It has to be, if they found one in your suitcase.”
“You’re right.”
“Once locked together and read,” Jack went on, “these two pieces will open up all kinds of new discoveries into the culture of the ancient Maya.” He tilted his head. “Incredible, isn’t it?”
Lorraine frowned, her fingers folded protectively over the half-star.
“Hey,” he said. He lifted her chin until their eyes met. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, Jack, don’t you know what that means?” There was no disguising her fear. “Jason will do anything to get this back.”
“True.” Jack wouldn’t mislead her. But Jason wasn’t their only worry. He knew any number of men and women who would kill for a mere glance at the missing half of the Kukulcan Star. “We have the advantage, though.”
“How’s that?”
“First of all, we’ve actually got it in our possession—and we’re going to hand it over to the Mexican government.”
