Maria thanked him again, then hustled to her meeting.
Shaded by a massive thatched roof known as a palapa, Isla Contoy offered fabulous views of the ocean and the hotel’s sandy beach. In the distance, to the east, she could see the red-and-white-striped lighthouse at Punta Cancún, which is built on the tip of a rocky shoal that juts far into the channel. Waves crashed against the rocks, sending spray into the air like an angry whale. Yet somehow the water at the nearby beach was as calm and clear as a bath. Unsure how that was possible, she decided to spend the next few days doing research — while wearing a bikini and working on her tan.
Maria scanned the restaurant and spotted her employer at a small table near the back, as far from everyone else as possible. Wearing a panama hat and an open-collared shirt, he could have passed for a tourist if it weren’t for the briefcase at his feet. In a restaurant filled with beachwear, it stood out like a surfboard on Wall Street.
‘Dr Hamilton,’ she said as she approached.
Deep in thought, the American took a few seconds to react to the sound of his name, but once he did, he hopped to his feet with so much energy he nearly knocked the table over. ‘I am indeed. Which means you must be Dr Pelati.’
She smiled and shook his hand. ‘Please, call me Maria.’
‘Only if you call me Terry. All my friends do.’
‘OK, Terry.’
A few inches taller than Maria, he was in good shape for someone twice her age, even though he hadn’t been inside a gym in decades. Blessed with good genes and a high metabolism, his years in the field had kept him toned and tanned. A week’s worth of whiskers covered his cheeks, but couldn’t hide the smile lines near the corners of his mouth. They peeked through the grey every time he grinned, which was quite often during their conversation.
Always the gentleman, he pulled out her chair and urged her to sit down. ‘So, what are you drinking? I’m halfway through a strawberry daiquiri, and let me tell you, it’s heaven in a glass! They make it with fresh strawberries, Cuban rum and clean ice — which is very important in Mexico. Coming from Italy, are you familiar with the term Montezuma’s revenge?’
She shook her head.
‘Trust me, you don’t want to become familiar with it. It’s a miserable condition that affects nearly forty per cent of all foreigners who visit this country. Down here, bottled water is a must. Never — and I mean, never — drink from the tap, even if the locals say it’s clean. And unless you’re in a nice resort like this one, stay away from the ice. It will get you every time.’
‘Good to know.’
‘And fruit,’ he said as an afterthought. ‘Only eat fruit if you peel it yourself.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Because the fruit is washed with local water. Apples, pears and the like are OK if you remove the skin, but I’d avoid grapes. Those rascals are tough to peel.’
She laughed at the thought.
‘So,’ he said as he called over the waiter, ‘what’ll it be?’
‘Tap water, extra ice. And a side of apple skins, please.’
He burst out laughing, glad she had a sense of humour. ‘I can tell already we’ll get along fine. For me, that’s my biggest concern on any project. Not the academics or the science — those things tend to sort themselves out in the long run — but the personalities of my co-workers. I’ve been on digs where we’ve found nothing, yet I couldn’t have been happier because I enjoyed my time in the field. On the other hand, I’ve made some major discoveries that were ruined by the miserable bastards I had to share my tent with.’
Maria ordered a daiquiri as he continued to talk.
‘When you reach a certain age — and mine shall remain a secret until it’s chiselled on my tombstone — you learn there’s more to life than your achievements. If at any point you find yourself not enjoying the journey, you need to find a different path.’
She nodded in agreement. ‘It’s funny you should mention that because I’ve been struggling with that problem in recent months. Don’t get me wrong: I love my work. But there has to be more to life than late nights in the library. There has to be something to balance it out.’
He held up his drink. ‘You mean like daiquiris on a beach in the middle of winter?’
‘That’s a start. But I was thinking something bigger.’
Hamilton smiled and leaned in closer. ‘In that case, this is your lucky day. Because I’ve stumbled across something that will blow your mind.’
6
Maria glanced across the table, trying to decide if Hamilton was serious. One look at his cocksure smile told her he was.
‘What did you find?’ she demanded.
Hamilton laughed at her bluntness, enjoying the secret knowledge he possessed for as long as he could. To milk the moment a little while longer, he took a slow, pronounced sip of his daiquiri before wiping the corners of his mouth with his napkin. The whole time Maria stared at him with unblinking eyes.
‘So,’ he asked, ‘how was your flight?’
‘My flight?’
‘I sprang for a first-class ticket. I hope you were comfortable.’
‘My flight was great.’
‘And your suite?’
‘My suite?’
‘Yes, your suite. Does it have a nice view?’
‘My view is great. So are my bed, my bathroom and the minibar. Now quit stalling and tell me what you’ve found!’
‘Boy,’ he teased, ‘you weren’t kidding when you said you were all business. We’ll have to work on that before you have a nervous breakdown.’
Maria laughed, surprised that the two of them were hitting it off so well after such a short time. ‘OK! Be that way. But keep something in mind: you invited me here for my expertise. Over the next few days, I’ll have plenty of opportunities to get even.’
‘That, my dear, is a very good point. Perhaps you’ve waited long enough.’
‘Perhaps I have.’
Hamilton glanced over her shoulder and frowned. ‘Unfortunately, it looks like you’ll have to wait a few more seconds.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘We have company.’
As if on cue, the waiter returned with Maria’s daiquiri, plus a basket of tortilla chips and a dish of pico de gallo. Known locally as salsa fresca, the uncooked condiment was made from chopped tomatoes, onions and serrano peppers. The aroma was so strong, Maria’s nose and eyes started to run even though it had been placed in the middle of the table.
‘Santa Maria!’ she said, coughing. ‘I’m glad I’m sitting upwind from that concoction. The smell alone is giving me heartburn.’
‘I’ll gladly eat your share,’ said Hamilton, who dipped one of the tortilla chips into the salsa before shoving it in his mouth. ‘I’ve been here so long I’ve fallen in love with spicy food. Now I put hot sauce on everything, from eggs in the morning to steaks at night. Believe it or not, I sometimes top off my dinner with jalapeño ice cream. It’s a local favourite.’
Maria scrunched up her face at the thought. In her mind, a meal wasn’t complete unless it ended with something sweet. Preferably something chocolate. ‘How long have you been here?’
‘In Cancún? Less than an hour.’
‘Really? I thought your crew was based here.’
‘Heavens no! Not a lot of research to do in these parts. This is a tourist city, not an historical one.’ Hamilton pointed at all the hotels that lined the beach. ‘Right now, there are approximately seven hundred thousand people living in Cancún, plus tens of thousands of tourists that visit on a daily basis. That being said, do you know what the local population was in 1970?’