Read Online Don't Look Back by Gregg Hurwitz - Free Book Online Page A

said, “ now they will.”
    She rotated the mouthpiece to her neck, stifled a laugh.
    They said their good-byes, and she signed off. The sun had encroached on the shade, and she tilted her face to the warmth, closed her eyes, and breathed in the smells. The workers—a man and a woman—bantered in a dialect not unlike Spanish. Eve let the patter wash over her, deciphering every fifth word. She took in the soporific rasp of the brushes at work, the whine of a winged insect, the rustling of fronds.
    And then a phrase sailed out of the conversation and smacked her.
    “—la desaparecida.”
    Eve rose abruptly and walked over to the workers. They paused in their task, at nervous attention. She recognized the young man as the bearer of the anniversary cake.
    “Hi, I’m Eve.”
    They nodded at her.
    “You are?”
    “I am Fortunato,” the man said. “This is Concepción.”
    The woman smiled shyly, hooked her hair back over her ear.
    “What were you saying?” Eve asked.
    “I am sorry.”
    “No, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was just curious.”
    Fortunato cleared his throat. “She say you remind her of another tourist who come here months past. She sit by herself also. And be thoughtful.”
    “La desaparecida?” Eve asked. “The disappeared woman? What do you mean, ‘disappeared’?”
    Fortunato shifted from one bare foot to the other. “She leave here early.”
    “Theresa Hamilton? A blond woman?”
    “I do not know her name.” Fortunato cast his gaze everywhere but at Eve. He was even younger than she thought, maybe seventeen. “We have many reservations.”
    “ Why did she leave the lodge early?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Did it have to do with a man with a scar here?” Eve circled her neck and jaw with her hand. “Lives in the canyon by the zip line? You’ve seen him?”
    Fortunato shook his head rapidly, picked up his bucket, and walked away.
    Concepción gathered the brushes. She turned to leave as well but paused before Eve, her head lowered, straining to find words. “Do not go … there.”
    “Why not?” Eve asked.
    “Hombre malo,” she said.
    Eve watched her scurry off. The air tasted of dust, tinged with the bitter mist of the cleaning agent.
    Hombre malo.
    Bad man.

 
    Chapter 11
    Steering crazily, Neto cried out, “Look! Mexican zebras!”
    In the back of the van, Eve and Jay strained to gaze ahead, only to see a few burros blocking the road. Neto erupted in laughter.
    Jay looked at Eve, tapped an imaginary microphone. “Is this thing on?” He rolled his eyes and went back to working the lid of his baseball cap into a better U, his softball biceps lifting and falling.
    The van bounced across a series of hand-grenade-worthy potholes, Sue letting out a gasp from the front bench seat, Will almost smacking his head on the roof beside her. The ruins, their afternoon destination, were still a few hard miles out, and impatience was on the rise. Lulu had ceded the passenger seat to Harry after he’d complained of back tightness; she shared the middle bench with Claire, who remained as sullen as ever, gazing out the window, fidgeting with her dive watch. The roaring engine and branches rattling against the van’s sides meant it took effort to communicate with anyone beyond those sitting adjacent, ensuring a measure of privacy for each row.
    “Sorry!” Neto shouted back to them, proving he was equal to the task.
    “Why don’t you get a four-wheel drive?” Harry shouted.
    “Four-wheel drive just means you get stuck farther out. ” Neto laughed, his fists fighting the wheel. “The roads, the jungle is hard on them. You leave one alone for six months, you can come back and it is gone. ”
    As if to prove the point, the asphalt turned to mud. And then, at once, the ground past Eve’s window fell away. She peered down the steep slope. A cargo truck had skidded off the road and rolled partway down the wooded decline before smashing into a tree trunk. The cracked