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Chapter Twelve

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Isabella had trouble falling asleep. Could Garza have brought her here under false pretenses? There were two ways to find out—either ask him or do some digging of her own. As soon as the sun filtered into her room, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Eunice Isakson. Other than calling her father and asking for Pedro, the cook/operative’s, phone number, Eunice was the only other person at the Guatemalan dig who she knew how to contact and ask if someone had come around asking questions about the people at Ch’ujuña.

The phone buzzed several times.

“Come on, Eunice, have cell service.” Isabella mumbled as her stomach grumbled.

“Hello!” Eunice sounded out of breath.

“Hi, Eunice, it’s Isabella.”

“Well, hello. I haven’t talked with you since Guatemala. You disappeared into the jungle without a trace. I asked around and learned you’d returned to work, but I didn’t stop worrying about you until I called and confirmed it. I told the officials who showed up at the dig that you were missing, but they didn’t appear worried.” Her tone held a scold and relief.

“I’m sorry. I just had to get away from Virgil. I didn’t understand his attitude and... well...”

“I understand, he wasn’t himself at all during that dig and to think his irrational behavior got him killed.”

There was an awkward silence.

Eunice blurted. “I was surprised you weren’t at the funeral.”

“I was out of the country and couldn’t get back.” She hated lying to her friend. She’d been in training at the WIA institute. Even if she hadn’t been busy, she would never have been able to go to the funeral of the man who betrayed her so openly.

“Are you back in the country? We could meet for lunch today. I’m at a dig not far from your university.”

“Bad timing. I’m actually in Mexico researching for a paper.” And she meant it. Lunch with Eunice would have been heavenly after all the chaos in her life lately.

“That’s a shame. What did you call me about?” The curiosity in the woman’s voice couldn’t be missed.

Isabella collected her thoughts. She had to ask without it seeming as if she were hunting for information. “I just wondered if someone contacted you, too, about our time in Guatemala.”

“I heard that private investigator talked to everyone. Well, everyone but Virgil, for obvious reasons.”

Her heart pounded and vibrated in her chest like a bass beat at a rock concert. “Do you happen to still have his card? I lost mine and I remembered something he asked about.”

“Sure, just a minute. It’s on my bulletin board in the office.”

The sound of Eunice’s breathing and her walking resounded in Isabella’s ear. Her hands shook scrambling to find a pen and paper. Someone had been investigating. Now she needed to discover if he was working for Garza. She couldn’t call and tip her hand that she knew Garza was investigating her. Her next call would be to Daddy. Her father could send someone to discreetly find out who was the investigator’s client.

“Here it is. Joseph Pintauro. He’s out of Tucson.”

Shamutz! He lived and worked right in the same town as she did. He’d, no doubt, also talked with her colleagues and the staff at the university. He’d know she was the same person the people from the dig talked about and that she was right now in Mexico City.

“Thanks. I forgot he was local.” To draw Eunice’s thoughts away from this topic she asked, “What are you doing in my area?”

The discussion focused on the dig where Eunice was taking photographs of the artifacts for categorizing and photos of the dig operations for an archeological magazine.

“That’s wonderful. Maybe I’ll still get a chance to meet up with you for a cup of coffee or a meal when I return.” Isabella glanced at her watch. They’d talked for half an hour.

“That would be wonderful.” The welcome in Eunice’s voice brought tears to Isabella’s eyes. This was the only real friend she had besides Tino, and she couldn’t even tell this woman about the man she loved. Maybe by the time she returned to Arizona she could tell Eunice all about Tino. That little bit of hope sparked a renewed effort to decipher the puzzle for the true reason she was in Mexico and to help Tino get the information he needed so they could both be tucked away safe in the states.

“It’s been great talking with you, but I need to go. I have work to accomplish today.”

Eunice chuckled. “You’re always working, young lady. You should take a vacation some time and find out it can be good to sit back and enjoy life now and then.”

“That sounds like wonderful advice, and I’ll take you up on it one of these days. Perhaps went I get back home. See you then.”

“I’ll be looking forward to the meeting. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Isabella tapped the end button on her phone and stared at the notes she’d jotted down. As much as she hated to bring her father into her assignment, if she and Tino were right, they needed to know what Garza knew.

She scanned her contacts and dialed.

Voice mail.

She sighed and after the beep said, “Daddy, I need to talk to you. It’s important.” She tapped the end button and dressed.

Folding the dress she wore the night before, she uncovered the employee files and surveillance tapes. The only way to watch the tapes was to have a video player brought up. She picked up the phone in her room and called down to the desk.

“This is Dr. Mumphrey in room 211. I’d like to have a video machine that will hook up to the television delivered to my room as well as breakfast.”

“Señorita, we have cable for the television.”

Isabella’s heart raced. She hoped they had what she needed. “Sí, but I brought videos with me I want to watch.”

“Ahh, we can help you. I will have that to you in thirty minutes.”

“That will be fine, gracias.”

Isabella stacked the video tapes on the dresser and picked up the stack of files. She used the list of occupations with employee’s names to find the security guard files. She pulled those out and sat down in the chair. One by one, she opened the files and read. Two people, the night guard and one of the day guards, started at the museum within weeks of one another. They also had a large backlist of references. That alone was a red flag.

Either the two moved from job to job a lot or they padded their resumes with places of prestige. Either one was a reason to have them looked at further. She added their names to a list she titled suspects.

Director Bastante was the next file she read. He’d been the director for five years. Before that he was at a smaller museum for ten. He had degrees in archeology and business. Both made sense given his chosen profession. She pulled out a small laptop and began searching his background some more. When she couldn’t find him listed under the awards he stated having received in college, she added him to the suspect list.

Knocking at the door interrupted her search.

“Just a minute.” Isabella closed her laptop and tossed her dress across the files. She didn’t need some nosy bellboy saying she had files scattered around her room. With everything she’d learned, she knew enough not to trust anyone.

She opened the door and was surprised to see Alphonso.

“What are you doing...?” Her question trailed off when she saw the video player under one arm and a tray of food in the other hand.

“I didn’t know you worked here.” She took the tray, set it on the dresser by the door and then took the video player from him.

“I was downstairs when my cousin was looking for a boy to bring up what you ordered.” The smile he gave her felt genuine, but his gaze roaming about her room, made her uneasy.

“Gracias.” She grabbed up her vest and pulled out a five-dollar bill. “I appreciate your cousin’s diligence.” Handing the money to Alphonso, she pushed him to the other side of the threshold and shut the door.

Wonderful! Now it appeared she had become a person of interest to the Bohu gang. Was there anyone in this city who wasn’t watching her?

She set the video player on the table next to the television and connected the cords. After popping in a video from the archive room dated during the week before the curator noticed the first missing artifacts, she sat down with the tray of food on her lap and watched.

The film was grainy and hard to distinguish who went in and out of the room. From what she could tell, it seemed to be the same five or six people throughout the day. Then the lights were shut off and the video camera seemed to sleep, until light made the camera come alive once more. She leaned forward in her chair, setting the tray to the side and peering intently at the television.

The way the person carried himself she knew him. But who was it? The film was too grainy to get a good glimpse of his face. He didn’t wear a guard uniform. He was dressed in a baggy shirt and pants and wearing a ball cap. To get into the building at night he would have either sneaked in or been an employee that was trusted. He walked up to a specific crate and... She moved closer to the television. The person was adhering shipping labels on two crates.

That’s how the items came up missing. They were shipped. No one carried them out stealing them; they were carried out by employees to be shipped. But the address would have to be something that didn’t set off any alarms in the person delivering them...unless the person who delivered the shipments was the person who put the label on the box.

She ejected the tape, placing it on top of the files of the people she wanted her father to check out. Why hadn’t he called back?

She plopped back down in the chair and finished off the tortillas and cheese, leaving the papaya and bananas for later.

The theme song from Indian Jones invaded the quiet of the room. Isabella chewed on her lip and picked up her cell phone from the table. Now that Daddy had called, she didn’t want to come across as a newbie agent.

“Hello?”

“How are things in Mexico?” Daddy’s jovial voice brought a weak smile to her lips.

Too bad he wasn’t here to infuse more of that her way.

“Getting more and more complicated every day.” She pushed her glasses tighter on her nose and peered at the name she’d scribbled on the note pad.

“This is just a simple job of discovering how the artifacts were stolen.” The tone of his voice instantly took her back fifteen years to when she was eleven.

“I discovered how that was accomplished—”

“Good, send me the report and get back here.”

“I can’t.” She held her breath waiting, and it came.

“What do you mean you can’t? That’s not a request as your father that’s an order as your superior.”

“There is more going on here than stolen artifacts.”

“Isabella, you’re in Mexico City for crying out loud, of course, there is more going on than stolen artifacts. It’s a city teeming with every black market there is. And that’s the best reason for you to get back here.”

“Now you sound like Tino.” She hissed out an exasperated sigh.

“I knew I liked that boy.”

“I need you to check out a private investigator in Tucson. His name’s Joseph Pintauro.” She heard an intake of breath. “Mom, are you listening in?”

“Yes, Isabella, I am. Joesph Pintauro did work for us several years back. What makes you suspect him of the artifact theft?”

“I don’t. Someone has him interviewing everyone who was in Guatemala when I shot Virgil.”

“How do you know this?” Her father’s hard tone proved he’d shifted to work mode.

“Tino and I have our suspicions that I was brought down here for a reason besides the thefts. He suggested Paolo Garza, the drug lord he’s infiltrated, knows about my connection with the circumstances surrounding his friend Don Miguel and the shooting in Guatemala. I contacted Eunice Isakson, and she confirmed this Pintauro has been asking questions about the Ch’ujuña dig.”

She heard her mother talking on another phone.

“Your mother is looking into who hired him right now. Write your report and bring it and your evidence back to me tomorrow.”

“I can’t. I promised someone I’d help with something, and I’m not leaving here until I’ve had a chance to talk with Tino.” She rarely defied her father and never defied a boss, but this time, she was going to listen to her gut and it told her she needed to stay and assist Tino.