Canyon of the Sphinx (6 page)

"Got it," Kathlyn set
her bag down. "Thanks again for your hospitality."

It was Kimberly's cue to leave
and she did so respectfully.  Now that she was alone with only Debra Jo for
company, Kathlyn threw herself across the nearest bed with the intention of
resting for a moment but she ended up telling Debra Jo about her phone call
from Marcus. Debra Jo's reaction was to lift an eyebrow at her.

"There's something not right
about all of this," she said. "I don't know what it is, but there's
something about that chick that bothers me."

"Like what?" Kathlyn
demanded.

Debra Jo shook her head. "I
don't know. Maybe it's the way she looks at you. Or maybe it's the way she
looks at Marcus. She's totally infatuated with the entire dig. It's really
weird."

Kathlyn shrugged. "I don't
blame her for that. Oh, I don't know... maybe I'm just blowing this whole thing
out of proportion.  When she came at me insinuating that I had forged expense
reports, I guess it just put me on my guard about her."

"Now you're going to start
reading things into her."

"Exactly."

Debra Jo didn't say anything. She
just lifted her hands. Kathlyn lay on the bed for a few moments before pushing
herself up and pulling out her overnight case. Silly as it sounded, it would be
hell to keep make up on in this climate, but Kathlyn wore make up, always, for
one very good reason; her skin was very sensitive and make up protected it.
Fixing her face and brushing out her long ponytail, she was in the process of
changing clothes when there was a knock at the door.  With a short pair of
khaki shorts on and a white tee shirt that accentuated her rather nicely, she
padded barefoot across the floor and opened the door.

A pair of pale blue eyes stared
appraisingly at her. They were piercing, like Marcus' eyes. A man with massive
forearms stood outside, his fair skin crisped brown by the sun and spikes of
pale blond hair poking out from his backwards baseball cap. He was extremely
handsome in an all-American, surfer-boy way, maybe a couple of inches taller
than Kathlyn’s five feet and five inches, but he was built like a bulldog.

"Can I help you?"
Kathlyn asked politely.

"I'm Dr. Murphy." His
voice was soft, not particularly deep, but it commanded authority. He extended
one of those thick arms and Kathlyn shook his hand. "Sorry I couldn't meet
you at the airport. I had some other things going on."

"No problem," Kathlyn
removed her hand. Her initial impression of him was one of quiet gentleness,
like true gentlemen had back in the days of chivalry and grace. "Dr.
Levine was a great guide. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Dr. Murphy. I've
heard a lot about you. Your work is extremely impressive."

Murphy wasn't quite sure how to
answer. Since he wasn't thrilled to have her here, he couldn't say it was a
true pleasure on his part. Still, he was trying to be polite about it and not
sure if he was doing a good job. But Adam had been right about one thing; she
was drop-dead gorgeous. It was kind of shocking.

"I hope you'll be
semi-comfortable," he tilted his head in the direction of her cabin.
"For us, this is the Presidential Suite of the camp. I'm sure you're used
to the crème de la crème wherever you go, so I'm sorry if this isn't up to your
standards."

"I just came from a camp in
the middle of Egypt. I'd hardly call that the crème de la crème of anything.
More like a Roach Motel."

Murphy may have cracked a smile;
she couldn't be sure. By his demeanor she guessed he was either very wary of
her or extremely shy. He crossed his enormous arms, almost protectively.
"I'll have to take your word for it. I would think someone like you would
have the best set-up with all that sponsorship behind you."

"Only in my dreams, Dr.
Murphy." She steered the conversation towards the heart of the matter.
"If you're ready to get started, let me get my shoes on and we'll get
going."

Murphy didn't say anything other
than to nod his head in a 'go-ahead' gesture. Arms still crossed defensively,
he turned away as she went back in and threw on her big black boots. With Debra
Jo on her heels, they joined Murphy, who silently led them across the camp,
where Mark, Otis and the doctoral students met them at the mess area. They were
drinking bottled sodas and getting acquainted with the camp personnel. Murphy
removed his hat, tossing it on the nearest table as he raked his fingers
through his over-grown crew cut. Though Kathlyn was completely unaffected by
him, Debra Jo was entranced. Kathlyn swore she could hear the woman panting.

"I'm going to take Dr. Trent
over to Site A," he said to his crew.

Before any of them could reply,
Kathlyn interrupted. "Site A?" she asked. "That would intimate
that there's more than one site?"

"There are two," Murphy
said. "Didn't you read the data we sent you?"

"I read it all. But it
mostly focused on your discovery of what appeared to be an Egyptian sphinx. It
was unclear, however, if the site where the sphinx was located was your primary
objective site, or if the sphinx itself was your primary objective."

"The sphinx wasn't what we
had you in mind for. Up until two days ago, I understood that your husband was
coming with you. We were going to leave that to him."

"He's not coming, now if
ever. You should probably bring in another Egyptologist. Surely you have
in-house personnel for that."

"Sure we do, but Burton's
the best and we were hoping...."

"That you'd get a freebie;
invite me to come and help you find your 'objective' and get Marcus Burton's
consulting work for free."

"That's not it at all, Dr.
Trent."

Kathlyn realized she was actually
insulted. They wanted Marcus to identify their sphinx more than they apparently
wanted her. They had hoped that he would accompany his wife on her assignment
and they'd get the bonus plan, two world-class archaeologists for the price of
one.  Her irritation bloomed.

"Whatever," she said
snappishly. "So let me ask you this; is there really an objective here for
me or am I just wasting my time?"

"There really is,"
Murphy said steadily. "As I said, there are two sites. The site with the
sphinx is Site B. Site A is the primary objective, just over that small ridge
to the northeast."

Kathlyn understood a bit more,
but she was still peeved. Yet the bigger question loomed.

"Just so I understand this
completely, Dr. Murphy," she scratched her neck where a bug was feasting."
What, exactly, do you need my help in locating?"

Murphy looked at her. He'd known
the woman all of three minutes and she was already going for the jugular. She
was aggressive, pushy, feisty and sharp as a tack. He could tell just by
looking at her. But she radiated an aura that the television didn't capture, a
glowing magnetism that had him very curious. Yet he couldn't blame her for her
irritation, especially in light of the sketchy data that UIR apparently sent
her, but he couldn't help feeling very protective about his work.  He was
terrified that somehow she would get the scoop on it and turn it into a
half-hour cable program under his nose.

"Didn't the information UIR
send you state that clearly?" he asked.

Kathlyn shook her head. "It
did not. All I was told was that you needed help locating your objective, and
that the objective is something along the same par as El Dorado which, in fact,
happens to be right up my alley considering my field of specialty. Other than
that, the data was very nearly cryptic. I'm really coming in here blind."

Murphy lifted his eyebrows.
"You come half way around the world on what you consider to be cryptic
information?" he shook his head ironically. "If you’re thinking to
find El Dorado here, you're going to be disappointed. This isn't a treasure
hunt, Dr. Trent."

"I never though it was; but
then again, I don't hunt treasure. I locate things most people only dream about
and make them a reality," she cast him an icy glare, very out of character
for her. But for some reason he had managed to tick her off. "As far as
the sketchy information, that's your university's fault, so don't blame me. I'm
doing what I'm told to do, cryptic information or not. So would you be kind
enough to tell me what in the hell you want me to do for you, Dr. Murphy?"

Murphy sized her up. She was
sizing him up, too. Although he wasn't thrilled with her presence, he certainly
didn't want to pick a fight with her, and their conversation to this point had
gone badly. His initial politeness with her had turned to something
not-so-polite. Christopher Murphy was many things, but he wasn't belligerent or
antagonistic by nature. In fact, he was very much a softy. He began to feel
rather bad about his attitude. Indicating for her to sit at the picnic table,
he sat down across from her.

"Look, I'm sorry if we've
gotten off on the wrong foot," he said quietly. "Let's just start out
fresh, okay?"

Kathlyn didn't know why she was
so irritated at him. She was so used to dealing with Marcus and his wild temper
that she found, as of late, she wasn't as patient or calm with people as she
used to be. She was starting to act like her husband and that was a bad flaw.
Murphy truly hadn’t been anything other than polite. Forcing herself to relax,
she smiled weakly.

"No problem," she said.
"I guess the jet lag is getting the better of me. I'm not usually so
cranky."

Murphy smiled shyly. "Hey,
you have every right. It sounds like no one has been particularly
helpful."

"That's not unusual in my
line of work."

Murphy could only imagine.
"Well, let me try to change all of that and give you a little background
on this from my perspective,” he began. His voice had a soft, soothing quality
that put everyone at ease. “Mesoamerican culture is probably one of the most
overlooked as far as richness and diversity. Everyone is always focused on the
Egyptians because of their fascination with the pyramids, or the Roman Empire,
or the cultures of the far-east. The world has never been particularly excited
about the Zapotecs and Olmecs and Toltecs simply because they are, to this day,
still a tremendous mystery. Buried out here in the jungles, this branch of
archaeology is relatively new when compared to Oriental or Egyptian studies. But
that doesn't make it any less important. The Olmecs had full-blown cities going
on when London was still a village. They had a calendar that is still accurate
to this day, plumbing, organized religion, you name it. These weren't wild
natives that lived in mud huts; these were people with structure and
culture."

Kathlyn had been listening
intently. "A few years ago I was called in on a dig just south of Mexico
City to help locate the tomb of an ancient Mayan King, Xochitlmatcl. I learned
a lot about the Maya during that time. Absolutely fascinating."

Murphy nodded. "I know. Your
discovery was remarkable."

Kathlyn shrugged. "The
discovery itself was remarkable. I just happened to be the one to find
it." She leaned forward on her elbows. "So what am I here to help you
find?"

Murphy met her strong gaze.
"I'm not looking for a tomb, Dr. Trent."

"I figured that. What are
you looking for?"

"A missing city."

Kathlyn sat a moment as if
waiting for him to say more. When he didn't, she lifted her eyebrows
questioningly. "That's it? A missing city?"

"That's enough."

"There's got to be more to
it than that."

"There is," Murphy
admitted. He passed a glance at Adam, seated across from him, silently
confirming their old argument. "You see, Dr. Trent, there are a lot of
people who believe the Egyptians were so worldly that they established colonies
all up and down the eastern shores of Meso and Southern America. Several years
ago when I was working on my thesis, I came across a library at a monastery in
Sao Paulo that stored manuscripts written by monks who traveled all over these
parts back in the fifteenth century. One of the manuscripts was written by a monk
who tried to spread Christianity in the Yucatan Peninsula. Part of his
manuscript told the story of an overgrown city that was marked with a series of
human-bodied, lion-headed statues and avenues painted yellow.
La Tierra
Dorada de los Jaguares
, they called it."

Kathlyn was listening closely.
"The Gilded land of... what's the last word?"

"Jaguars."

"Jaguars," Kathlyn
repeated slowly. "You know, legends of cities with golden streets are not
uncommon in many parts of the world. Why did this particular story catch your
attention?"

"Because the buildings in
the city were created of
las columnas del agua florecen
."

Kathlyn had to think a moment to
translate. "Columns of water flowers?"

Murphy nodded. "He even had
sketches of them. The exact translation from the monk was
flores blancas que
dan vida, el loto
."

It took Kathlyn a minute to get
it. "White flowers that give life?"

"The lotus."

"You've got to be
kidding."