Jack had no desire to see these lights, but he didn’t want to appear anxious to leave. Maybe the way to get out of here was to pretend to want to stay.

Semelee shook her head. “Maybe you wouldn’t, but I can’t risk it. Not yet, anyways. But maybe when I get to know you better…”

Jack noted how she said “when” instead of “if.”

“What’s wrong with getting to know each other now? We could go back to town, have that drink, maybe two or three, and do some serious talking.”

“Not tonight, or tomorrow or the next night, for that matter.”

“Why not?”

“The lights run for three nights. I gotta be here for that. But after Sunday…” She leaned closer and he caught her pleasant, musky scent. “… We got all the time in the world.”

That’s what you think, sister.

But he had to be careful here…hell hath no fury and all that.

Then he noticed the black shell dangling from the thong around her neck. The same size and shape as the one he’d found in his father’s hospital room. Even had a hole drilled at the hinge end. Had to be the same.

He pointed to the shell. “How’d you get that back?”

Semelee started and clutched the shell. Jack figured from the sudden widening of her eyes that she hadn’t wanted him to see it. Because that meant she’d visited the room a second time—and he didn’t like that one bit.

But if that were the case, why had she worn it around her neck and left the collar loose?

“What do you mean?” she said.

“I found it by my father’s bed in the hospital, right after you were there. When did you go back for it?”

“I…I didn’t.” She kept the shell wrapped in her fist. “I had two.”

“Oh.” That made Jack feel a little better—if she was telling the truth. “I guess I saw the other one then.”

“Where?” She grabbed his wrist. “Where’d you see it last?”

Jack was about to shrug and say he’d left it on the bedside table and assumed the housekeeping staff had chucked it out, but her tight grip on his arm and the intensity in her eyes made him hold off.

“I’m not sure. Let me think…”

Why was a damn shell so important?

He glanced around and noticed Carl was missing.

“Carl?” Jack broke Semelee’s grip on his arm as he rose to his feet and scanned the lagoon banks. “Hey, Carl! Where are you?”

“Never mind him,” Semelee said, rising with him. “What about that shell?”

Jack left her behind. He skirted the edge of the cenote and headed in the direction of the huts where he saw a number of the men sitting around the little fire, smoking, drinking, but Carl wasn’t among them.

Shit! Where was he?