women talk, I take more and more notice of Matt. He hasn’t said a word, but I get a bad vibe from him, like he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing. At one point, he almost seems bored and is looking around the apartment like he’s considering buying it. At other moments, he seems overly invested in the conversation, though he holds his tongue.
But the weird part is that it’s slick. To a casual observer, he probably seems bland, like oatmeal with all the excitement of a pat of butter on top. But I’ve seen guys like that before. Sometimes, it’s real and a conversation with them is like pulling teeth because they’re just so blah.
But other times, it’s a practiced front.
And I haven’t decided which this conversation is for Matt.
He excuses himself to piss, and I wait a beat for him to close the bathroom door. The girls don’t even pause when I rise too, heading down the hallway to listen carefully. I lean against the wall, waiting for the bathroom door to open.
I see the shock of surprise when he opens the door and the flash of anger in his eyes. But Matt hides it quickly, and very well, which is interesting.
I get the feeling that if I wasn’t standing here, he would’ve snuck into Emma’s room and started digging through the drawers. But he doesn’t seem like an undie-stealing pervert. No, there’s something different in his motivation. He’s looking for something, but why would he be snooping around Emma’s place?
I ask him and play it coy. “Wanted to talk to you away from Carly. What do you know about Stone? What do you think about Emma?”
Matt repeats what Claire said like it’s the party line. Within two sentences, I’ve gotten my read on him. I know a coached soldier when I hear one.
“Okay,” I reply, heading into the toilet before he can get a read on me. “I just don’t want Carly to be scared, you know? Excuse me . . . gotta use this.”
I close the door and lean against the counter. This situation, as unclear and twisted as it was before, seems to just keep getting more and more complicated.
I don’t like complicated.
Complicated gets people killed.
And more often than not, not the ones who deserve it.
Chapter 35
Nathan
The entrance to the caves emerges out of the trees like a vision, but if you didn’t know they were there, you’d miss it. Ironic, I know, but the truth is before my eyes as Francisco leads us out of the tree line into the small clearing.
I don’t know what caused the pervasive Amazonian rainforest that we’ve been hiking through for the past day and a half to stop fifty feet from the sheer ridgeline in front of me like some god had used a ruler to measure the distance, but the line holds true for as far as I can see to my left and right, leaving a thin thread of pale, grassy green in the midst of the green-black jungle.
The cliffs themselves are dramatic, vaulting nearly two hundred feet into the air, making them some of the tallest hills in this part of the forest, like a barrier between the lower forest and the highlands that create the next level of jungle.
I’m sure a geologist could describe why the cliffs and the forest change are so sudden, but I honestly don’t care. What I care about is the waterfall in front of me, relatively narrow but so high that the water turns into a fine mist as it cascades to the bottom of the rockface. It’s there, almost mundane compared to the beauty of the scenery around it, that the cave entrance awaits me.
I know the inside, from countless hours studying Dad’s notes. I’ve memorized every turn and twist, and I know that even then, there’s another entrance inside the entrance . . . easily overlooked, easily dismissed, and containing treasures beyond description.
“Stop,” Francisco says, raising a hand just to get the point across. “Rest.”
“Finally,” I murmur as I lay my bag down, taking out the urn that contains ‘Dad’s ashes.’ “I can honor my dad’s dying wishes.”
I have to force my voice to sound mournful and hesitant, as if the words pain me, playing the part of the dutiful son.
“Not now,” Francisco says, pointing off to the left. “You’ve had a long day. You should rest for a few minutes, clear your head before you scatter your ashes. You have all day. We head back after breakfast