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“Is there anything about the subject matter that strikes a chord?” Remi asked.
“Not really,” he said. “A procession. Quetzalcoatl. Priests or dignitaries. The usual jaguars and eagles. The most unusual is the depiction of the pyramid or temple.”
“But it doesn’t mean anything to you?” Sam asked.
“Part of the problem is that much of what we believe is really interpretations, which are subject to change based on new information. We’ve already made some discoveries in the crypts that have us reconsidering our earlier assumptions about the Toltecs.”
“We’d love to see what you’ve been up to in our absence,” Remi said.
Antonio nodded. “Of course. We’ll be heading up there after this meeting. You’re welcome to come along.”
“It’s still quite grim,” Maribela said, “but now that water service has been restored to some of the affected area, the tension level has receded since you were last there.”
“Then it’s a date,” Sam agreed, and quickly busied himself with his notes until he caught Remi glaring daggers at him.
When the siblings had departed to their office, Remi moved away from Sam, her shoes clicking on the linoleum floor.
“What is it with you every time Maribela’s in the room?” she asked.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Fargo.”
He shrugged. “No, really, I don’t.”
“She opens her mouth and it’s like you’re a teenage boy at the prom.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “Why, Remi, is that the green-eyed monster surfacing? You? Really?”
“Don’t try to deflect. I see how you’re behaving.”
“You mean how I keep pawing at her?”
“It’s not funny.”
His expression softened. “You should know by now it’s you and nobody else.”
She eyed him distrustfully. “Are you just saying that to make me feel better?”
“If I was, whatever I said would also be to make you feel better. So if I said no, it wouldn’t be the truth.”
“See? That’s what infuriates me about you. You can never give me a straight answer.”
“I just did. Now, can we return to the treasure of a lifetime? Not that I mind living in a Mexican soap opera or anything . . .” Sam pretended to twirl a nonexistent mustache, and, in spite of herself, Remi laughed.
The ride to the site took forty minutes through the city’s bustling streets. When their SUV pulled up to the crypt entrance, a different contingent of soldiers was guarding the opening. The familiar formality of handing over identification was repeated and soon they were underground, where a dozen earnest students were whisking at pottery with brushes and photographing the finds.
Antonio led them through the passageway to the largest chamber. “You know, one of the carvings you showed me reminds me of several here. I didn’t want to say anything until I saw them again, but I’d be interested in your opinion.”
As they arrived, he said something in Spanish to three students who were tagging artifacts. They promptly left, making room for the four of them.
“Which carving?” Remi asked.
“I think . . . Yes, here it is. Right here. It’s quite small, so you’ll have to get close to see the detail,” he said, tapping an area of the pictograph with his finger.
Sam and Remi drew near and studied the area he’d indicated. A group of warriors and priests were paying homage to a pyramid. Above it, a cloud hovered.
Maribela squinted at the carving. “I could go either way on that. It’s inconclusive.”
