One Grave Less

The name of the perpetrator was probably on that list or no more than a couple steps away—within their grasp. And she had more names he could add. If they could connect any of the names to one of the four dead men, or to these Julio Corday or Marco Calvo persons . . .
    “Diane?” said Garnett.
    “Just thinking about network analysis. It’s one of Gregory’s favorite tools.”
    “So,” said Garnett, cocking an eyebrow at the two of them and rising to his feet, “you’re thinking you can get Kevin Bacon to find the perps.”

Chapter 31
    The motor started in such a normal fashion that Maria found herself releasing the tension from her muscles. The beat-up truck had been through a lot the day before. Perhaps, like her, it had just needed a rest. The now-familiar noise of the engine was a relief to hear.
    Rosetta let out the breath she’d been holding. Maria wished she knew some way to make the trip less stressful for the little girl. Not that Rosetta wasn’t accustomed to stress, but to be so close and yet so far from finding her mother must have her in knots.
    Maria continued the story of Harry Potter as she drove from the burned-off clearing into the steamy jungle again, heading toward Benjamin Constant. A place she hoped she could find help.
    She had to constantly check the compass. Finding ways they could traverse with the truck that always led north was getting more difficult. They may have to get out and walk sooner than she hoped. But if she could just get a little closer to a town while they still had wheels—while they had a cab to sleep in.
    The thick plants surrounding their truck seemed to grow thicker. Maria was about to suggest they would have to abandon the truck. She checked her map again against the compass. Right direction—just no road. She looked on all sides for anything to indicate the jungle might be thinning out, or that there might be a large animal trail or something. She’d go for a rabbit trail at this point. They were obviously near water. The jungle was thicker near water, and it was really thick here. We’re probably going to end up in a river , she thought. I can’t see ten feet in front of us. She wondered whether she should get out and scout ahead on foot.
    Just as that thought passed through her mind, she saw a face between the giant leafy fronds of the plants ahead. When she blinked, the face was gone. Maria didn’t doubt she’d seen a face. She had confidence that, if she saw something, it was there. She wasn’t imagining things, was she?
    “Rosetta, do you speak some of the local languages?” she asked.
    “Some. You talking about that guy in the forest?”
    “You see him? Why didn’t you mention it? I thought we had a deal after the crocodile incident.”
    Rosetta giggled. “I told you, I didn’t see the crocodile until you were already outside the truck. And I was afraid if I said anything while you were driving over the bridge it would scare you and you would drive off the bridge. You know how you hated the big snake.”
    Rosetta looked at her and grinned. She didn’t appear to be scared. Maria supposed this was the kind of people Rosetta had stayed with when she was on her own. She looked at the child’s tan little face and black hair. The kind of people she originally came from .
    Maria hoped Rosetta’s laid-back take on the situation was accurate. I’m an anthropologist , she thought. If I can’t deal with indigenous peoples, then I need to turn in my degree . Of course, as an archaeologist, she only dealt with the dead.
    Without warning, there was a loud thump and the truck began rocking. Maria looked in the rearview mirror. She had a passenger. At least it wasn’t a snake. The new rider was an indigenous male, mostly naked except for a baseball cap and red body paint. He was going through the supplies in the back—examining the whiskey and things he probably couldn’t use but perhaps thought he might trade. It looked like it was market time.
    Another man jumped in the back with him, and a third jumped on the hood. This one looked in through the windshield at the two of them and grinned. He appeared to be no more than a teenager. He banged on the hood and pointed off at an angle ahead. Maria drove slowly in the direction he indicated.
    “I hope this is the right thing to do,” Maria whispered.
    “I don’t think we have a choice,” said Rosetta.
    “It’s nice to have directions for a change,” Maria said. “Think we could talk them