Path of the Jaguar Read Online Free PDF Page B

had to laugh. "I guess I've read too much about gory rituals and human sacrifice," she confessed.
    "Didn't Hern bother to teach you that the Mayas were never a blood-thirsty race? They performed human sacrifice, but only as a part of their complex religious ceremonies. The Mayas have never been a war-like people. They have always been more interested in art and religion, in building up rather than destroying. It's so important to understand all this—" With an effort, Joseph stopped himself. "Here I am, stealing Hern's job, lecturing you mercilessly."
    "Please go on," Lennea insisted. His enthusiastic talk showed an understanding of the Mayas that not even Wesley seemed to possess. "Tell me a little more about your art exhibit for the museum."
    She smiled to herself at the bright glow in his eyes. "I'm trying to put together the very best of Mayan art." Seriously, he explained, "I'm authorized by the government to gather artifacts from new excavations as well as make purchases from private collectors." Such enthusiasm stirred in his voice whenever he spoke of his work. Lennea almost envied his great sense of purpose. "I want to make this exhibition spectacular, the best that's ever been!"
    "Will it rival the King Tut exhibit of Egypt?" Laugh lines crinkled about his eyes. "It's not exactly my mission to rival King Tut. But I do want to educate the people, to make them more aware of the splendor of the Maya civilization." He shook his head sadly. "So much of their art has been stolen or destroyed. What the Spanish did to the Mayas is just like what your ancestors did to the Indians in the United States. To cut a people off from their cultural past is the worst kind of theft there is."
    Lennea thought about the vanishing ways of the Sioux, the Cherokee, the Navajo and Hopi. Silently, she agreed with Joseph.
    "Maybe we'll uncover something spectacular at Tikom," she said.
    The waiter placed their food before them. Joseph had selected well. For a while, Lennea felt the tension ease away from her. She was enjoying the good talk, the delicious food, the feeling of intimacy the small table provided. For the moment, she could almost forget the heavy burden of the blue bag and its contents which lay on the tiled floor near her feet.
    She looked across the table to smile at Joseph and glimpsed Sid coming toward them, a grim, tight frown on his face. Her first thought was that he must have some news of Delores. She waited tensely, expectantly.
    Sid stepped over to Joseph's side of the table. "You have a phone call," she heard him whisper. The smile that he flashed Lennea seemed strained, artificial. "I wouldn't have bothered you, but it does seem urgent."
    "Excuse me, Lennea." Bewildered, she watched Joseph walk away with Sid. She felt oddly conspicuous, as if every eye in the room was upon her. Absently, she took a bite of the delicious meal, but without Joseph, the food lost most of its flavor.
    Joseph must be talking to Delores. But why didn't Delores ask to speak to her instead of Joseph? Like everything else that had happened, it was secretive, sinister.
    Lennea pushed her plate away. She sipped her coffee, now grown cold. She was beginning to wonder if Joseph ever intended to return.
    An uneasy sensation filled Lennea. She felt eyes watching her. She turned, her gaze shifting from the sunny tables near the window to the shaded ones by the enormous vases. As her eyes passed a lone man, he reacted by looking away. Did she imagine that he shrank back behind a huge foliage plant as if to remain hidden? He was being so secretive—hiding behind the plant like spies in fiction hide behind newspapers.
    Her heart pounded. Was this the man she had seen at the airport? Or was it only the high, thin-bridged nose, the dark hair and eyes, the short, rather husky build—the typical Mayan—that she seemed to recognize?
    Lennea stole another glance in his direction. It was him! A sense of panic gripped her. His gaze was riveted to the navy