Treasure of the Jaguar Warrior - Mystery of the Mayan Calendar Page 8

  “Someone’s in an awful hurry,” Patricia Parker, the busy bee said to wonder boy.

  “Yeah,” the big man gave the woman in his arms a tight smile.

  Chapter 8

  Jessie pulled up in front of her aunt’s home, ran up the stairs of the veranda, and threw open the door. “Jacques,” she yelled. She heard her mother’s startled exclamation as she ran to the living room and found Jacques sitting on top the curio, looking like a petulant child gazing at the contents of the cabinet distributed across all the other surfaces in the living room.

  “What are you doing running through the house screaming Jock?” her mother asked from where she stood in the middle of the chaos, a cleaning rag in one hand and the other hand pressed to her bosom. “What is Jock?”

  “Ah. . . . It’s an expression of excitement, like opa!” Jessie faked a cheer while stepping into the room through the clutter. “Mom, what are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” Gloria turned back around to pull another bottle from the cabinet. “I’m cleaning this filthy thing.”

  Jessie glanced at Jacques who didn’t appear to be enjoying the fact that his sacred domain had not only been invaded in a robust cleaning mission, but now was also being insulted. He gestured wildly at the debris field, throwing his arms wide, reminding her of an Italian whose car has just been wrecked.

  “This doesn’t look like it’s been dusted in ages.” Her mother’s voice was muffled as she worked inside the large curio.

  Jacques threw up his arms. “I feel like I’ve been violated.”

  “What did you say?” Her mother turned to her.

  “Ah—I felt like a beignet and I-ate-it.” Jessie quickly adlibbed, covering up Jacques’s verbal slip.

  “Oh, that’s nice, dear,” her mother said as she set more glasses down on the end table. “Are you still hungry?”

  “Yes!” Jessie said. “Famished. Could you make me one of your amazing BLTs?”

  “Certainly.” Her mom returned to clearing the shelf, coming out with two more bottles. “Did you get the groceries and the cold cuts I asked for?”

  “Ah, yes,” Jessie said, glancing up at Jacques who was making the motions of safe in a baseball game or the don’t leave me here alone with your mom move.

  “Mom, how did you get into the cabinet?” Jessie asked.

  “What do you mean?” Gloria paused to look at her. “It was open when I came in here.”

  “Open?” Jessie repeated.

  “Yes, open.” Her mother gave her a strange look. “Here.” Gloria handed her two more bottles. “Put these over there. There is no more room over here, and I’ve almost gotten this cleared out.”

  “Are you sure it wasn’t locked?”

  “Jessie, what’s gotten into you?” Her mother stopped again to look at her.

  “I locked that up last night,” Jessie answered.

  Her mother looked back at the cabinet. “Well, I did hear a noise earlier, but when I came in here, nothing had fallen, but the cabinet doors were slightly ajar. Maybe the lock broke?”

  Jessie watched as Jacques shook his head angrily. “Mom, why are you cleaning?” Jessie asked, looking around at the mess.

  “Well, at first I thought I’d just straighten a bit, but one thing led to another, and here we are.”

  “Let me finish up in here. It’s your vacation,” Jessie said.

  “I just wanted to spruce it up a bit so we could get a tree.”

  “A tree?”

  This time her mother looked at her like she’d lost her marbles. “Yes, Jessie. A tree . . . A Christmas tree. It’s December 18th if you haven’t noticed.”

  “I noticed, in fact I just bought a few gifts,” Jessie said . . . and threw one out the window, she added to herself.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” Jessie said. “I’ll go get the groceries and finish this if you make lunch.”

  Her mom looked back at the cabinet longingly before agreeing. “Deal.”

  “Great!”

  “You need to wipe all those bottles though, and I think I’ll take the glasses to the kitchen for a thorough washing.”

  “Mom, I’m a big girl . . . a doctor. I think I can handle it,” Jessie teased her with a big grin on her face.

  “You’re right,” Gloria sighed. “Hurry in with those groceries, and I’ll fix lunch.”

  Jessie watched as she set down the cleaning rag and walked toward the kitchen. She turned back once. Jessie waved. As soon as she was out of sight, Jessie turned to Jacques and the cabinet. “How are you?” she whispered.

  “How do you think I am?” Jacques asked. “I’ve been stuck here, forced to enjoy the cleaning spree while someone steals from me.”

  Jessie closed the door. He disappeared immediately. “Jacques?” she whispered, looking around. He showed up across the room looking angrier than she’d ever seen him.

  “She was just trying to clean in here for Christmas.” Jessie tried to calm him down.

  Jacques ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath before he spoke. “Someone has been seeking my treasure,” he growled. “The key is gone.”

  “What?”Jessie yelled.

  “Shh-shhh!” he hushed her, looking over his shoulder to the vicinity of the kitchen.

  “What?” Jessie said again softly. “How?”

  “There was someone here when I arrived.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know. I could not see them.” He disappeared before she could respond. He was back in a flash. “Whoever it was is gone now.”

  “Well, that’s a relief!” Jessie sighed, thinking of the danger her mother had been in. “This isn’t safe anymore, Jacques.”

  “It never was.” He looked at her with an indescribable expression. “I’m living proof of that.”

  Living? Jessie decided not to quibble with the details considering the danger that faced them.

  “Jessie where’s the bacon, honey?” her mom shouted. “Are you bringing the groceries in?”

  “Be right there, Mom,” Jessie yelled, turning back to him. “Why couldn’t you see them?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe they had a talisman or something.” He ran his hand through his hair in frustration.” They left as soon as your mother came down the hall. Stuck here as I was, I couldn’t give chase.”

  “Should we call the police? I know you hate people going through your house, but. . . .”

  “Whoever it was knew, not only that I was not here, but exactly where to find the key. There is nothing for the police to find, they were careful not to leave prints.”

  “But we are in danger,” Jessie said. “They could have hurt my mom.”

  “Oui,” Jacques said. “We were lucky.”

  “I’m calling the police anyway,” Jessie said as she headed for the phone, “for protection.”

  “I can protect you better than the police,” Jacques said.

  She looked at him doubtfully.

  “I just won’t leave again.”

  ~*~

  Gloria wiped the crumbs from her lips and sat back onto the sofa. “That was good wasn’t it?”

  “Excellent,” Jessie agreed as she placed the last of the bottles in the cabinet and closed the door. She’d rushed through her own sandwich in order to finish the cabinet so that she could free Jacques who still lounged on top of it. “You make the best BLTs I’ve ever tasted.”

  “Thanks, sweetie.” Gloria beamed with pride. “You know?” She sounded amused. “I found the strangest little secret compartment in there.”

  “In here?” Jessie pointed to the curio. She watched as Jacques leaned forward curiously from the top, surprised as much by the information as she was. “What was in it?” Jessie asked.

  “Well, how would I know?” Gloria said, slightly affronted by the question. “I was cleaning, not trying to find my sister’s private stash.”

  “Mother!”

  “Well, your aunt was a wild one in the 60’s.”

>   “I’m sure I don’t want to know.” Jessie said.

  “The only reason I mentioned it is because you are her heir, and if anything should happen to her or me, you may want to know about it.”

  “Wait. . . . I’m her heir?” Jessie asked stunned.

  “I thought you knew that.” Gloria seemed surprised she didn’t know. She chuckled as she stood up. “Don’t you remember coming here when you were a little girl?”

  “Yes.” Jessie nodded.

  “Katie signed you onto the deed then. Mavis, next door, even notarized it.”

  It was all beginning to make sense now, Jessie thought as she glanced over at Jacques, who was now behind her mother. Well, some of it was making sense at any rate. He was rolling his hands in an impromptu game of patty-cake and charades, pointing to the cabinet and then at her mother.

  “I guess I’ll go wash these,” Gloria said as she gathered their lunch plates.

  What? Jessie mouthed when her mom bent over.

  Jacques’s movements became more frantic. Finally, he swooped next to her and whispered in her ear, “Ask her how to open it.”

  Goosebumps went clear to Jessie’s toes. She shivered. “Ah, Mom.”

  “Hmm?”

  “How do you open it?” Jessie asked, hoping she sounded indifferent and casual.

  “There is a little lever in the back on the underside of the lowest shelf. I never would have noticed if my rag hadn’t gotten caught in it. When I pulled it out, the bottom popped up.” She glanced back at the grand cabinet. “I hope I didn’t damage Katie’s most prized antique. She had that dated to the sixteenth century you know. It was brought over from the old country.”

  “Which old country?” Jessie asked while Jacques became even more impatient over the question.

  “Spain, if I remember correctly.” Her mother jiggled her ear.

  “I could have told you that,” Jacques whispered. “I brought it over myself.”

  “I’m going to make an appointment to have my ears cleaned,” her mom said, picking up the last plate and leaving.

  Both Jessie and Jacques looked at each other before scrambling toward the cabinet.

  “Maybe you should go in the other room or something while I open it,” Jessie said, looking at the cabinet, then him.

  “I’m just going to end up here the second you do.” Jacques stated the obvious.

  “Oh, right,” Jessie said as Jacques reopened the cabinet and stood looking inside. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked.

  “Oui,” he sighed.

  “Just one thing first,” Jessie said.

  “What?”

  “How did a Frenchman happen by a Spanish antique?”

  “It was my great-great-great-great-grandfather’s.”

  Jessie looked at him in surprise. “That’s the second time today someone has said that to me.

  “Really?” Jacques said. “Who has the distinction of the other?”

  “Mavis.”

  “I had to ask,” he said bitterly. “My first mate was none other than, the not so honorable, Theodore Bancroft. After my demise, he apparently took all that I owned as his own and wiped my name from the known world.”

  “Why?”

  He looked at her sharply. “That, I do not know.”

  “What about your grandfather?” Jessie asked, looking into the curio. “What is it that makes this so special?” Jessie smiled. “Inquiring minds and all.”

  “My great-great,” Jacques started, only to pause when Jessie rolled her eyes and her hand as if to pass on the greats, “grandfather was one of the original Spanish conquistadors.”

  “Really?” Jessie exclaimed.

  “He returned to Spain with a map leading to El Dorado which was passed down to the male heirs of my family to watch over and protect.”

  “Where is this map now?” Jessie asked “Is that what’s in here?”

  “I doubt it.” Jacques sighed in disgust. “I left the original map where it would be safe.”

  “Where?” Jessie asked. At his hostile expression she said, “No.”

  “Oui,” Jacques said. “I left it on my ship in the captain’s safe with my first mate guarding it.”

  “Bancroft.” Jessie looked around. “So it really might still be here in the house after all?”

  “Non.” Jacques shook his head. “I’ve been through every nook and cranny. There is no map here.”

  “So it could be in there.” She pointed to the cabinet.

  “I don’t think so,” Jacques said. “Bancroft couldn’t have known of this secret hiding place or my strange connection to it. I didn’t even know.”

  Jessie puzzled that over and then asked, “Okay, what about the Christmas decorations?” He looked at her, wondering where that came from.

  “Trust me,” she said, looking over her shoulder in the direction of the kitchen. “The question is coming, and unless you want my mother going all through your house, you’d better just answer.”

  “They are in the attic.”

  “Thanks.” Jessie nodded in acknowledgment.

  “Je t’en prie.” Jacques nodded.

  “Maybe we should just put a padlock on it, with a big chain to keep whomever it is out?” Jessie said.

  “I need to know what it is,” Jacques said. “But you should leave.”

  “Do you remember what happened last time?” Jessie asked. “Uh-I think you need me.”

  “It’s true,” he said, looking at her before facing the cabinet again. “Just in case I don’t come back.”

  “You’re coming back!” Jessie stated emphatically. “Or we’re not doing this!”

  “You are my dream, Jessie,” Jacques whispered it softly.

  His words made her feel suddenly self-conscious, and the way he was looking at her sent warm fuzzies to her brain. She glanced away.

  “Jessie?”

  He had a look of concern in his eyes when she looked back. “What is it?” she asked.

  “I would see my jailer, but only if you are safe.”

  “Jacques,” Jessie said. “From what I’ve seen so far, you’re the one in jeopardy.” She started to reach down.

  He held up his hand to prevent her. “Before we do. . . . I must tell you.” He took in a ragged breath. “It was said that if the map fell into the wrong hands or failed to be protected, a curse would fall on our name.”

  “A curse?” Jessie asked. “What kind of curse?” She couldn’t help but think about the woman at The Enchantress . . . and her warning.

  “I am sorry, Jessie, to have placed you in danger,” Jacques said, his voice filled with self-disgust and loathing.

  “Ah, well, I had nothing better to do for my Christmas holiday anyway,” she said, trying to lighten his mood. “Besides, you didn’t make someone break in and steal the key.” She studied him for a moment, but there was no getting through. He was a man filled with remorse. “Jacques, it’s not your fault.”

  He drew in a ragged breath. “If something happens, I want you to get away from the cabinet, find your mother, and leave the house. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, but—” Jessie started.

  “Shh-hh.” He put his finger to his lips. “Just do it.” At her obstinate look he added, “For me, s'il te plait.”

  “Okay, fine.” Jessie nodded. She cleared the bottom shelf and got down on her knees to better see into the cabinet. She ran her finger along the underside of the lower shelf until she felt it. “I’ve got it.”

  At her words he shifted from one foot to the other, preparing himself. He leaned forward, knees bent.

  “Are you ready?” she asked. At his nod she said, “Here goes nothin'.” She pulled the lever.

  He slid across the floor towards the cabinet when the bottom popped open. Determination was written on every line of his face as whatever energy it was pulled him. He stopped about a foot away.

  “Okay?”

  At his nod she opened the cover, revealing an old metal box about th
e size of a small shoe box. “I’m going to lift it out.” At his nod she proceeded to take it out until she held it in front of her. “What now?”

  “Honey?” Her mother called from the back of the house.

  “Yes, Mom,” Jessie yelled.

  “I’m going to call Mavis and confirm our dinner plans.”

  “Crap” Jessie said.

  “Crap?” Jacques asked.

  “I don’t want to go, but if I say that now, she’ll want to know why and come here to talk,” Jessie whispered.

  “Well?” her mother asked.

  “Augh,” Jessie sighed. “Yeah, sure, Mom.”

  “All right, honey,” her mother answered.

  “Are you still all right?” Jessie asked. At his nod she moved to her feet. “We need to get this up to my room before she comes back,” she whispered. “Come on.”

  “I have but little choice,” he said right next to her.

  “Oh, right.” Jessie smiled at the obvious.

  “I am at your beck and call, ma chérie,” he said as he followed her up the stairs and down the hall to the pink piglet palace.

  Jessie shut the door with her foot and carefully set the box on the bed. She stood looking down at it. “Now what?” she asked.

  Jacques had little choice but to sit next to it on the bed while Jessie stepped back to considered it. “I’d like to open it,” Jacques said.

  “Are you sure?” Jessie asked, noticing that he looked a little pale.

  “Oui.” He nodded.

  “Maybe we should wait.” Jessie said.

  “Meanwhile, I am stuck here.”

  “Then we should put it back,” Jessie said.

  “This defeats the purpose, no?” Jacques said. “We need to find something made of wood to hide it in.”

  “Wood?” Jessie asked.

  “That’s the only thing I can think of that kept a separation between this and me.”

  “That actually makes sense,” Jessie agreed. “I think I just read about wood’s protective qualities in regard to the supernatural. Something to do with its cellular structure.”

  “Let’s try this.” Jessie opened the underwear drawer, making room.” She placed the box inside and shut the drawer. “Well?” she asked.