The Death Relic by Chris Kuzneski

more seconds …’
    Payne opened the door and stepped into the bitter cold. His clothes and hair were quickly coated in snow. Except for two smokers huddled near the doorway for warmth, the sidewalk was completely deserted. On a night like this, even hookers stayed inside. Searching for privacy, Payne glanced in both directions and spotted an empty bus shelter about twenty feet to his left. Although it wasn’t heated, it was better than nothing. Not only would it protect him from the gusting wind, it would save his lungs from the second-hand smoke.
    Payne ignored the elements and headed that way.
    Jones, who was slowed by the crowd and the bouncer, emerged a moment later without his coat or gloves. This time, he didn’t shiver or complain about the weather. His emotions were keeping him warm. A little too warm.
    ‘Where in the hell are you going?’ he shouted.
    ‘In here,’ Payne replied as he ducked into the shelter. Made of tempered safety glass, the walls were covered with ads for local businesses. A wooden bench was bolted to the ground. A fluorescent light glowed overhead.
    ‘Jon, are you there?’ she asked.
    ‘I’m here,’ he assured her as Jones joined him inside the shelter. ‘If it’s OK with you, I’m going to put you on speakerphone, so DJ can listen in.’
    She took a deep breath. ‘David’s there?’
    ‘Yes. Is that a problem?’
    She paused. ‘Maybe.’
    ‘Great,’ Payne said, completely ignoring her response. He didn’t care how many problems it caused Maria. There was no way he was going to keep this conversation from Jones. Not with the anger in his best friend’s eyes. Instead of condensation, Payne half expected to see flames coming out of Jones’s nostrils. He was
that
pissed.
    Payne turned on his speakerphone. ‘You’re on with both of us.’
    She remained silent for the next few seconds, unsure of what to say.
    The moment lingered a little too long for Jones.
    ‘Are you there?’ Jones blurted.
    ‘Yes,’ she said meekly. ‘I’m here.’
    As soon as he heard her voice, the edge in his softened. He could tell something was wrong. ‘Are you all right?’
    ‘I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.’
    His anger quickly turned to concern. ‘Where are you? At home?’
    ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m at a hotel.’
    ‘Where’s the hotel?’
    ‘Cancún.’
    ‘
Cancún?
What are you doing in Mexico?’
    ‘I came here for a job, but …’
    ‘But what?’
    She swallowed hard. ‘Something happened.’
    Jones glanced at Payne, looking for an explanation, hoping he could fill in the details that were currently missing. But Payne was lost for words. He was just as confused as Jones, maybe more so, since he had no idea why she would call him in the middle of the night. Then again, neither did Jones, which was why his temper had flared when he saw her name on Payne’s caller ID. For a few terrible minutes, he had assumed his best friend had betrayed him.
    Jones quickly regained his composure. ‘First things first, are you hurt?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Are you safe?’
    ‘Maybe.’
    ‘That’s not good enough,’ Jones snapped.
    Payne put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and squeezed, urging him to calm down. Anxiety would only heighten the situation. ‘What do you mean by
maybe
?’
    She tried to explain. ‘I’m locked in my bedroom inside my suite, but I don’t know how safe it is. I think they grabbed him downstairs.’
    ‘Grabbed who?’ Payne asked.
    ‘My boss. His name is Terrence Hamilton.’
    Without delay, Jones punched the name into his smart phone and pulled up as much information as he could from the Internet. Within seconds, he knew Hamilton was an American anthropologist from a prestigious university, and that he specialized in the Maya.
    Payne continued the questioning. ‘Do you know who grabbed him?’
    ‘I don’t know. I didn’t see. But he left the restaurant and didn’t come back. He said he would be gone for five minutes – he had to get something