Page 49 of Wicked Ambition

At last, Lurch said, “Yeah. Archer didn’t fill in his team about Fuentes or other intel they should have known, like the fact that KW located a piece from the treasure in the convent. I’m not sure how much you could trust anything the man did pass along. For sure you couldn’t count on it being complete.” He paused, scowled, and added, “About Fuentes, my Fireball didn’t know much and most of what she told me was guesswork from the rumors she heard. Her theory is that the man is methodically researching the treasure.”

Cal nodded, but it wasn’t very helpful.

“Not what you were hoping for?” Lurch didn’t wait for an answer. “If you want to find Fuentes, I’d look for clues to the location of the treasure. My Fireball didn’t have any proof, but she believes there’s a map and that Fuentes knows it exists. She believes he’s beaten her team to some of the archives and thinks the man will stop at nothing to reach the treasure first. It appears to be common knowledge that the Paladin League is hunting for it. If the woman you’re searching for crossed paths with Fuentes, the sooner you find her, the better.”

The last placeArcher wished to be on a Sunday evening was his office. At times, it was tempting to bring the papers home and work from there, but despite his precautions, the security at his residence wasn’t nearly as robust as at Paladin League headquarters.

His cryptographer’s report interested Archer enough to drive in to read it immediately instead of waiting for the morning.

Nyx Templeton was correct. There was a map to the treasure. Her conjecture was borne out by the code deciphered in the journal that she’d brought with her from Puerto Jardin to Los Angeles. It seemed Mother Bonifacia Emilia, the first Mother Superior of La Convento de Madres Fieles, had quite a talent for encryption.

Leaning back in his chair, Archer stared out at the lights of the city. He tried to put himself in the place of the British ship’s captain who’d stolen the treasure. The man would have been desperate, knowing the Spanish authorities were closing in on him and his first mate. He wouldn’t want to be captured with the map in his possession.

But giving it to Mother Bonifacia Emilia? That’s what Archer couldn’t understand. Granted, she had brought food and water and had generally been sympathetic to them. It seemed the Reverend Mother wasn’t a fan of the Spanish occupation and was a closet supporter of the rebellion taking place in 1820.

Archer shook his head. There were religious relics included in the Treasure of Trujillo. At the very least, he imagined she would have wanted them returned to the church. From all accounts, the woman was devoted to her faith.

Turning back to his desk, Archer read through the report again. The facts hadn’t changed. According to the code in Mother Bonifacia Emilia’s diary, the captain had given her the treasure map and she’d hidden it. Where? That wasn’t revealed in her diary. It was possible that even with the encryption, she hadn’t trusted that the authorities wouldn’t decipher her words.

His thoughts returned to the one thing he couldn’t comprehend. Why did the captain give that map to the nun? He could have concealed it in the convent himself. That was where he and his first mate were hiding when they were recaptured.

Not having the answer to a question this large bothered him. It could sway the interpretation of the intel or open new avenuesof investigation. And there might be no solution to be found. Not over two hundred years after the fact. Everyone involved was long dead, paperwork destroyed or buried in archives and forgotten.

Francesca and Ellis continued the hunt for documentation. They’d discovered nothing relevant since Nyx had returned with the journal.

And those other papers. The research by Diego Ramos.

Standing, Archer went to his secure vault and retrieved the documents. Nyx had gone through them and believed Ramos had discovered something. He was less convinced, but she had been correct about the map.

Placing them on his desk, he resumed his seat and read through the papers again. If Diego Ramos had stumbled across intel, the originals were in the possession of a drug lord. Sending Francesca and Ellis in to locate them was not an option. Not when he still had one missing employee to worry about.

Where was Iona Desmond? Why had she disappeared? And most important of all, would the Special Forces team in Puerto Jardin be able to find and rescue her?

If she wasn’t already dead.

Fuentes stoodon the balcony and looked at the ballroom below. The Presidential Palace was alive with music and crowds of partygoers. Everyone appeared to be having fun. Traveling to Rio Blanco, though, hadn’t been on the agenda for the week and it was damnably inconvenient.

Still, when one received a summons to attend a Cardozo soiree, it was wise to accept. The president of Puerto Jardin was known for rewarding his favorites and punishing those whodispleased him. No one with sense wished to be in the latter group.

A waiter with a tray of champagne flutes stopped and Fuentes took a glass. It was an excuse to stand in one place. An excuse not to mingle.

Fuentes had gone through the receiving line, greeted Cardozo and his wife, socialized with the Puerto Jardinese elite, and wanted to leave. A glance at the time said it was too early. It would be at least another hour before it would be acceptable to say goodbyes and exit.

Even then, returning to Trujillo tonight was out of the question. The drive through the mountains was far too treacherous in the dark.

Señora Adames, champagne flute in one hand, her evening bag in the other, stopped and began conversing. The Señora was tall, bedecked in jewels, and a grande dame who liked to gossip. She might know something helpful about the hunt for the treasure.

The blonde woman, drugged and locked in a room on the upper level of the hacienda, came to mind. She’d remain unconscious until Fuentes returned.

At least she should.

Chapter 20

Ayla slouched in her seat and stared at the road ahead. The green of the rainforest encroached on both sides of the narrow two-lane highway and there was a steep berm on her right. Puffy white clouds seemed to hang within touching distance of the hill as they approached.

They were in another sedan. If she hadn’t miscounted, this was the third vehicle Oz had driven. She’d asked him about it because it seemed odd that he had a fleet of cars at his disposal. Apparently, though, he was borrowing from his friends because changing what they were riding around in would make it more difficult to track them.

It startled her. She thought they were safe once they’d lost the Russians from the café, but Oz believed differently. Since this was outside her experience, she had to trust his take on the situation.

---