The Monkey Idol Read online

  The Monkey Idol

  Decker & Callie Adventure

  Book One

  K.D. McNiven

  All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.

  All rights reserved

  Copyright © 2017 by K.D. McNiven

  The contents of this book may not be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author.

  Contact information: https://www.facebook.com/KDMcNiven/#

  Book cover: Temple Ruins

  Illustration by Jared Shear

  Special thanks to my husband, David for his support and encouragement to follow my dream. Thanks to Ryan and Brit McNiven for their help editing and for being my cheerleaders, and to Sarah Thomas for the many hours of computer work she put in figuring out all of the nuts and bolts of publishing in order for me to accomplish this work.

  Prologue

  Honduras 2016

  Leonard Romero bounded down the staircase, stopping abruptly at the bottom and peered around the corner. Under his arm he carried a wrapped package tied with heavy string. Satisfied that there was no one lurking in the marbled reception area, he stepped out from the shadowed nook and made his way to the counter.

  “Would you make sure this is mailed today?” he asked, handing the package over to the hotel desk clerk, a pleasant Hispanic gentleman that Leonard had come to know quite well over the past months.

  He nodded. “Si, Señor Romero. I’ll make sure it does.”

  Leonard was hopeful the package would find its way quickly into the hands of his wife, Holly. In hurried strides, he made his way out of the hotel lobby where his jeep was parked. His two guides, Pedro Gonzalez and Basilo Suarez were already there waiting for him. They had come highly recommended and had led numerous expeditions into the Honduran jungles. Leonard could not have managed without their expertise.

  He tossed his rucksack into the back, packed tightly with the equipment they’d need for excavation, along with plenty food supplies. His plan was to return to the La Mosquitia area—the darkest, most primitive land he’d ever ventured.

  One day later, they were paddling their pipante, a long, slender boat, up the snaking Río Plátano River. The diverse vegetation ranged from four-foot grassy marshes to long trailing vines knitted together to form thick walls on either side of the river. Slim fingers of golden light filtered through the thick umbrella overhead, lending an eerie cast that made it seem as if they’d stepped from one world into another.

  As they continued their trip up river, they noticed another boat following close behind. Fishermen and adventure seekers alike frequented the river—and unfortunately, drug runners and poachers as well. Leonard only hoped it was a couple local fishermen heading back to one of the villages located along the banks.

  It was midday when they pulled the pipante and the rubber raft carrying their supplies, out of the current and onto the rocky shore. Pedro dragged the hollowed-out boat from the muddy surge and was banking it when a shot rang out, seemingly from nowhere. Instantaneously, Pedro’s body crumpled into the river, the rushing water swirling around him. His splayed body bobbed over the river’s peaks as he drifted away.

  Both Leonard and Basilo bolted into the thicket, though not soon enough for Basilo. There was a loud crack, and his body collapsed in a lifeless heap. Another shot split the air, whizzing past Leonard’s ear. His heart raced with fear. He dashed forward, briars and tree limbs raking his face and bared arms as he frantically ducked through the thick foliage. His breath was ragged. His mind spun with confusion. But he continued battling his way through the matted vegetation. His pulse quickened as he anticipating the next shot.

  Gripped with fear, he realized he’d lost his bearings and could no longer determine where he was. It was strange where a person’s thoughts could go when under duress, Leonard pondered. Gruesome stories began flashing through his mind about explorers who’d stumbled onto decaying bodies in the jungle because they’d gotten lost in the maze of undergrowth. He shuddered involuntarily.

  He pressed forward into a slick trough of mud and fought desperately to find his footing. It was near impossible to get traction in the spongy, water-soaked ground cover. The thick sludge enfolded him, wrapping him in a warm blanket. Feverishly, he grappled at the slimy banks, clawing like a madman. He dug his heels deep into the mire and struggled to push himself to his knees and then to his feet.

  It was enough that he had to cope with the slick terrain, but now he had to face a torrential downpour. The rain pelted against his face with stinging intensity and within minutes the ground turned into a surging watercourse. The force knocked him down once again, and he grunted when his face struck against a stone. His arms quaked as he dragged himself back to his feet, knowing that if he didn’t, it would be certain death. Blood trickled into his eyes and dripped off his chin to mingle with his mud-caked shirt.

  In a daze, he reeled forward, his instincts shouting at him to follow the stream back to the river so could regain a sense of direction. Behind him, he could hear brush crashing and snapping, and realized with dread, that whoever was trying to shoot him was gaining ground quickly.

  Leonard didn’t see the tree branch until it was too late. His feet got caught up on the rotting wood, and he tumbled headlong into the gurgling stream. Fatigue had overtaken him, and he barely had enough life-force in him to move, but desperation drove him. His arms flailed at the water, and he managed to push himself back onto shaking legs. He lunged forward when another shot tore through the dark jungle…

  Chapter 1

  Holly Romero grabbed clothes off hangers and in rapid fire tossed them carelessly into the opened leather suitcase. Her heart was pumping so fast, she thought it would leap out of her chest. She had to keep reminding herself to slow down her breathing to keep from hyperventilating.

  In her haste, she found it difficult to determine what items she would need to take. It was inconceivable her life would take such a frightful twist and that common everyday life would be turned upside down. She was filled with uncertainty, and yes, fear. That was the emotion plaguing her right now—gripping fear. The slightest noise, like a dog barking or a car rumbling by, made her nerves snap with anxiety.

  From the closet, she moved to her dresser and began sorting through her belongings. She continued to glance at her watch, praying Decker Hayden would return her call. She knew him and his wife, Callie, were vacationing because Garrett, Decker’s father, had told her as much when she’d called, but she was desperate. Even though she’d always been independent, she was painfully aware that she could not manage this nightmare alone.

  It was not as if she knew Decker and Callie all that well. The first time they met was on a dig in Montana when she had insisted on tagging along with her husband, Leonard. Even though Decker and Callie were leading the team, and were quite busy, Holly still managed to get acquainted with them. On one of the evenings they had gone out for cocktails, and another time they simply sat around the campsite to discuss the day’s events.

  Decker had also dropped in a couple of times over the years to go over some archaeological details with Leonard, and she had spoken with him a couple of times on the phone after that. What she was certain of was that Leonard had held Decker and Callie in high esteem. He trusted their expertise, as well as their friendship. Presently, in the midst of her confusion and angst, Holly was mindful that she had nowhere else to turn except to the Haydens.

  Life was not supposed to turn out this way, she reasoned. Leonard was within one year
of retiring—or so he would say. She gave an abject snort, concluding that Leonard would never have been able to settle down and give up archeology. It was buried deep within his soul. How she missed him already—the stories he had shared with her, the disappointments he had experienced and the undeniable thrill of discovering an artifact. There were times when she had been jealous of his passion for unearthing old relics because of the incredible amount of time it had taken away from them. But, that was who he was, and she would never have considered asking him to give it up.

  She prepared to leave the bedroom when her eyes caught sight of their wedding picture. It stopped her dead in her tracks. With trembling hands, she grabbed hold of the photograph, pressed it to her heart, then opened the suitcase and placed it safely between the layers of clothing. Presently, she was uncertain of where to go or what would become of her.

  As she walked out into the living room, the horror she’d experienced minutes before struck her smack in the face. The room was in shambles. Dresser drawers were pulled out and thrown onto the floor. Papers were scattered from the entry hall all the way to the adjoining rooms. Lamps were toppled over, and several chairs were lying on their side, insinuating that whoever broke into her house had been in a great hurry to find whatever they had been looking for. With Leonard’s sudden death, and now this dreadful intrusion, Holly felt nauseous and alone.

  She jumped with a start when the doorbell rang. She stood frozen to the spot, and then with great effort, she choked out the words, “Who is it?”

  “Mail, Mrs. Romero, I need your signature.”

  On wobbly legs, she moved towards the door and peeked out of the security hole. Relief filled her when she saw that it was indeed the mailman. She cracked the door and forced a weak smile for his sake. Quick as her quivering fingers could, she sprawled her name out. “Thank you,” she said, closing the door behind her.

  Her heart was still racing as she examined the package in her hands. It was a heavy box wrapped in brown paper. It was from Leonard, postmarked from Honduras. Anticipation shook her very core. Carefully she peeled back the wrapping, lifted the lid and stared disbelievingly at an odd-looking artifact. It was a rather small statue that had deep grooves chiseled into it. By appearance, it resembled a monkey. Holly was stunned. It was apparent Leonard had sent the package from Honduras before he was murdered. Her mind whirled with confusion. Why? Was Leonard trying to smuggle the artifact out of the country? She knew him well enough to know he would never do anything illegal. Even she was aware that antiquities had to be registered with the government. The trafficking of any artifact was prohibited to protect the cultural heritage in other countries. She shuddered even to consider that he might do something so unlawful. Now, more than ever, she needed Decker and Callie. They would know what to do.

  Her legs felt like jello, as she sagged against the wall for support. Her eyes remained locked onto the statue, her mind a vortex of unanswered questions. The sound of a car door slamming drew her attention. She peered outside and saw two men coming up the walkway in hurried strides. Both men looked intimidating and up to no good. The tall one had a scar deeply embedded in his shallow cheek. Stringy light brown hair brushed his shoulders, making him a rather foreboding figure. The other man walked with a notable limp, his coffee-colored face was leathered and deeply wrinkled, reflecting a hard life. His dark brows were woven into a menacing scowl.

  The silhouette of a third man could be seen seated in the black vehicle parked on the street, though she was unable to make out the man’s face. Filled with fear, she rushed out of the room to snag the artifact and frantically placed it back into the box, then stuffed it into her oversized purse. Hurried steps took her to the back door, panic overwhelming her. Heart racing, she raced across the lawn, through the back gate.

  The only thought in her mind as she sprinted down the alley was to get away and find help. When she heard a man’s voice yell, she twisted her head to see them dashing across the backyard, heading in her direction. She was an avid runner, which today was useful.

  There were several stores lining the street and Holly ducked into a quaint dress shop, looking for a rear exit. The bell above the door jingled, and she caught sight of the two men as they rushed in. They stood still for a time, their eyes surveying the surroundings. One turned to the left, the other to the right, and they began a slow search of the store.

  The store clerk glanced up. “May I help you?”

  “Did a woman come in here?” The tall one inquired.

  There was an edge of danger in his squinted eyes, and he glared at her menacingly.

  The store clerk noticed a revolver tucked into the waistband of his jeans. Yes, she had seen the woman who had come in, but she was reluctant to tell him. Nervously, she replied, “I didn’t see anyone.”

  Right then, Holly took the initiative and made a mad dash out the back door. Her heart felt as if it would explode as she headed back into the alley. Even though she did not turn back, she heard the back-door slam behind her. She merged with a side street where she was able to blend with the steady foot traffic on the sidewalk.

  The pastry shop! Holly knew one of the waitresses there whom she had worked with for several years. With any luck, her friend would be on duty and would be willing to hide Holly from her pursuers. When she burst through the door, she nearly cried to see her friend Jeanette standing behind the counter.

  Jeanette jumped with a start by the abrupt entrance. Her face went ashen seeing the ghost-white woman rush in, looking on the verge of hysteria. “Holly, what the…”

  “I don’t have time to explain, Jeanette. I need a place to hide!” Holly’s face was stricken. Her entire body shook uncontrollably. “Please, Jeanette!”

  Jeanette grabbed her arm and led her into the back room. “Stay here,” she insisted. In a flurry of emotion, Jeanette headed to the front of the bakery. She flipped off the light switch, turned the lock on the door, and turned over the “Sorry, we are closed” sign. No sooner than she’d locked up the place, she spied two men dodging inside and out of some of the stores. Though Jeanette didn’t know the present circumstances, she sensed these men were trouble. Jeanette hurried to the back room where Holly was hiding.

  Holly’s face twisted with fear, and she slowly slithered down the wall to curl into a tight ball, her entire body trembling.

  Jeanette stooped down and dropped her hand on Holly’s shoulder comfortingly. “Here,” she offered her hand and helped Holly to her feet. “Take a deep breath. Now, what’s this all about, Holly?”

  Pent up tears began coursing down Holly’s cheeks. Weeks of pain surfaced, and she could barely stop the flood long enough to speak. “You heard Leonard was murdered?” she sobbed.

  Jeanette nodded her head, affirming she had read about his death in the newspaper. She realized that Holly was having to cope with her husband’s murder, and at the same time, having to deal with these men chasing after her.

  “I don’t know what’s going on; truly I don’t. I came home this morning from shopping, and my house had been ransacked. Apparently, these men think I have something that they want because they returned a while later trying to find me. When I saw them, I snuck out the back of the house, and here I am.”

  “What can I do, Holly? Do you want me to call the police?”

  Holly looked stricken. “No!” she blurted out. “I have to think this through. No police. Not yet.”

  “Would you like to stay at my house for a couple of days?” Jeanette offered. “You can’t stay here. It’s nearly shift change, and the store will have to be opened up. The men are not around here at the moment, but if they came back twice intent on looking for you, then you aren’t safe going back home.”

  Holly didn’t want to bring the police into it yet. Not until she knew what this whole situation was about. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to Leonard. She knew deep down that Leonard had sent the artifact in an attempt to keep it safe from someone. Possibly the two men who wer
e after her. And she couldn’t be sure there weren’t others involved. Whatever the reason behind all of this, someone was willing to murder for it.

  “That would be great, Jeanette,” she agreed. “I’m waiting for some friends to call me and advise me what to do.”

  Jeanette squeezed her shoulder to reassure her. “I’ll go get my car and drive it to the front. When I’m sure those two men aren’t around, I’ll motion for you to come out. Flip the lock on the way. I’ll call Nora Lang and explain what’s going on. She’ll be here in a half hour.”

  Holly nodded her head and tried to keep herself from falling apart. She stood and followed Jeanette out of the room and stayed close to the door until Jeanette drove her car around. Shortly, she saw Jeanette wave her hand that it was clear and she was safe to come out. Flipping the lock, Holly dashed out to the red Nissan and sank deeply into the seat.

  During the drive, Holly remained silent. Thoughts whirled around in her head, many thoughts that had no answers. She cracked open her purse to confirm the statue was still tucked safely inside. Presently, it seemed to be the one thing that kept her connected to Leonard. So long as she had it in her possession, she realized her life would be in grave danger. Even so, she would protect it in every way she could.

  “Holly,” Jeanette’s voice broke the silence. “What make of car were the men driving?”

  “Why?”

  Jeanette glanced in the rear-view mirror nervously. “There has been a black Toyota Land Cruiser following us for quite some time. Maybe I’m being paranoid?”

  Holly’s face drained of color. “That’s what they were driving, Jeanette. Can you take an off ramp and see if they follow you?”

  After they had driven a quarter mile down the road, Jeanette slipped across lanes and onto an off ramp. She looked in her mirror, and her heart picked up a beat. The Land Cruiser was close behind. Jeanette had never tried to shake someone from her tail, but instincts took over, and she accelerated, weaving her way through traffic, her heart pounding fiercely in her chest.