Chapter 2
After two flights from Yellowstone to Cancun and a long, bumpy ride in a bus that had to be at least fifty years old, I finally arrived at Tulum in Mexico. All the passengers who had made the journey with me climbed off the bus at the tourist section of town, where the cafés blared Western music and promised tacos and buckets of Coronas for bargain prices.
I didn’t have time to explore Tulum, nor did I want to. I had spent my life savings to get to Mexico, but I wasn’t here for a vacation. I was here to find answers that I hoped would provide some closure for my mom before cancer finally took her from my three sisters and me.
The bus crunched into gear again, and as it rolled along the main street, I admired the ocean out the window. The water was the most incredible aqua color I had ever seen. A pang of longing swept through me as I imagined how spectacular the scuba diving would be in that crystal clear water.
Instead, I planned to scuba dive into a dark cave where few people had ventured.
The bus entered a narrow street flanked by shanty-like structures with faded paint and sagging gutters, and many had boards covering the front doors. Trash littered the dirt road, and several times, the bus had to slow down for the feral cats that strolled across the potholed road like they were playing a game of chicken. I was impressed that the driver cared enough to avoid them.
“This is the stop,” the driver yelled over his shoulder as he stomped on the brake.
“Oh. I’m here already?” I pulled my backpack onto my shoulders, grabbed my small duffle bag, and thanked the driver as I stepped off the bus and into the hot Mexican sun.
The bus farted a cloud of black smoke from its exhaust as it pulled away, and as I fanned the fumes, I pulled my notebook from the top zipper of my backpack.
I turned over the front cover and caught the photograph that slipped out before it fluttered to the dirt. My heart sagged as I studied the picture. “I’m doing it, Dad. I’m finally doing it.”
I returned the photo to the notebook, flipped over the pages to my list, and ticked off the first three steps of my journey.
Next step was to find Infinite Abyss Cave Tours.
I pulled my backpack onto my shoulder and searched the crumbling buildings for a street number. Every sign was in Spanish, and I couldn’t see a single digit.
Once the bus disappeared around the bend at the end of the street, silence settled over the area and the humidity sat right on my chest, heavy and hot.
Squinting against the blazing sunshine, I strolled along the deserted street and tried to interpret the pictures on the signs to find the dive tour company that had promised to take me into the last cave my father had ever explored.
My heart raced as I peered up and down the street.
Where is everyone?
Since Dad vanished, I’d been determined to find out what happened to him. But when I finally figured out the location in the last photo he sent us, I’d been shackled by my pathetic income and minuscule bank balance. Mom’s recent diagnosis was the push I needed to get off my ass and make this happen. The day I received my new Amex card in the mail, I maxed it out buying this tour and the cheapest transport I could find to get me to Mexico.
The last three weeks had been a whirlwind of planning, and it was surreal to finally be here.
Sweat trickled down my temples by the time I found a tacky, faded figurine of a dolphin wearing a scuba mask on the front veranda of a building with gaffer tape holding the cracked windows in place.
Damn, that didn’t portray the ‘quality’ tours that were advertised on their website.
Farther along the deserted street, a black cat slinked across the red dirt like it was stalking its prey. Creepy vibes tormented my curious mind, which, according to my mom, I’d inherited from my father.
Forcing my trepidation away, I returned my attention to the dive shop. On the wall next to the cracked window was a poster of a woman in a yellow bikini who was wearing snorkeling gear. The picture had faded so much the water was nearly white, and the words had almost vanished altogether, making them impossible to read.
This does not look good.Scuba diving requires well-maintained equipment. I hoped their gear was in better condition than their shop.
The temptation to walk away reeled in my mind. But I couldn’t. I needed answers. So did Mom.
I’m here and I’m doing this.
And I was not letting some decrepit dive store statue and faded sign ruin my plans.
Nothing was.
I climbed the weathered steps onto a small landing and pushed through the bead curtain. As my eyes adjusted to the dim setting, I searched the tiny room for my tour guide. Tattered paperwork covered a small desk, and yellowing photos and crinkled brochures were pinned to a cork board on the back wall.
A toilet flushed from somewhere in the back, and I stepped away from the desk, waiting for someone to appear. A second bead curtain was swept aside, and a chubby Mexican man stepped into the room, zipping up his pants. He smiled, revealing at least three missing teeth.
“Hola, ?eres Katherine.”
I hadn’t had time to learn Spanish, but I did recognize hello and my name from his opening statement. “Hello, do you speak English?”
“Sí. Are you Katherine?”
“Yes, Katherine Reynolds. But everyone calls me Kat.”
“Kat.” He rubbed his hand over the stains on the shirt straining over his round belly, then held his hand forward. “I am Pedro.”
I shook his hand. “Hi, Pedro, I’m looking for Colton Henderson. The man who is taking me diving.”
“Sí. You are in time, Kat. We are ready to go. Come with me.” He waved for me to follow him and stepped through the bead curtain again.
Clutching my pack and bag, I followed him into a hallway that reeked of cigarette smoke.
Halfway along the corridor, he turned to me. “You need bathroom?”
“Oh, um . . .”
“It long drive. You go. I be waiting outside.” He pushed open the door at the end of the hall.
Cringing, I stepped into the grime-covered bathroom, but the door wouldn’t shut properly behind me. Damn it. There was no toilet paper either. I fished into my bag for one of the packs of tissues my younger sister had shoved at me after she’d driven me to the airport in Montana.
Don’t chicken out now, Kat. You’ve got this.
Repeating the mantra, I quickly peed, tugged my shorts back on, and at the basin, the water spluttered as I washed my hands. Wiping my palms on my denim shorts, I strode out the door and into the blazing sunshine again.
“Over here.” Pedro waved me toward a faded aqua-blue Kombi van that looked about sixty years old. Rust had claimed the edges of the doors and windows, staining the paint like creeping vines. Behind the Kombi van was a box trailer with the words Infinite Abyss Cave Tours painted in bold blue letters that had been made to look like water.
“Kat, meet your friends.” Pedro indicated to the four people already seated on the bus.
“Oh, hi everyone. I’m Kat.”
“Hey there,” a cheerful voice called out.
Ducking my head, I entered the bus, sat on a cracked vinyl seat, and turned to face two couples in the seats behind me.
“I’m Kasey, and this is my husband, Charlie,” a woman said, and her curly red hair bounced as she reached forward to shake my hand.
“Nice to meet you. Is that an Australian accent I detect?” I shook their hands.
“Sure is,” Kasey said. “We’re from Brisbane.”
“We’re Australian, too, from Perth.” The second woman waved from the back seat. She had long, silver-blonde hair, tanned skin, and enormous breasts that bulged from her bikini like dueling balloons. “I’m Lara. That’s Ethan, my boyfriend.”
She pointed at a broad, heavily tattooed man in a tank top with Corona beer branded across the front who had earbuds in his ears and his eyes closed.
“Who is ready for adventure?” Pedro yelled as he climbed into the driver’s seat.
“We are,” Kasey and Charlie replied as I turned to face forward again.
Pedro started the engine and drove onto the dirt street.
I leaned forward. “Excuse me, Pedro. Where is Colton?”
“We go get him now.” He turned his gaze toward me for way too long for my liking.
“Oh, okay.”
Just before he drove into a wall, he turned back to the front and yanked the steering wheel to correct his direction.
“Where are you from?” Kasey asked.
“I’m from Montana. Have you been to America?”
She and Charlie shook their heads. “Only in transit to get here. Have you been to Australia?”
“Unfortunately, not,” I said. “It’s expensive to fly there. Hopefully, one day.”
“I know what you mean,” Kasey said. “It took us forever to save for this holiday, but I can”t believe we”re finally here. This is going to be amazing, hey babe?” She nudged her shoulder to Charlie, and a glance between them was enough to know they were in love.
“Yep. Here”s to making memories before we’re bogged down with nappies and screaming babies.” Grinning, he raised an imaginary glass.
“Stop your whining,” Kasey said. “You’ll love having a baby.”
I frowned. A pregnant woman can’t scuba dive. “Are you pregnant?”
“Not yet. This holiday is our last hurrah before we start trying.”
“We’re just practicing at the moment.” Charlie wiggled his brows, and Kasey playfully slapped him.
As a pang of jealousy crashed through me, I turned my attention out the window. I’d met my one and only boyfriend in college, and I fell for him big time. We both studied photography and had grand dreams of traveling the world together and capturing wild beauty with our lenses. But Martin’s promises fizzled out when he went all practical on me and chose a stable yet dull car salesman job rather than the life of adventure and whimsical decisions that we’d talked endlessly about.
Martin had left a hole in my heart that had never been filled, and I was angry at him for a long time. Then, I decided that the best way to eradicate him from my memories was to make new ones. So, I’d set off to lead the life I’d dreamed of since I was a little girl. I spent every cent I’d saved and every penny I made while traveling. Lack of money hadn’t been an issue until I needed it for this trip.
The rundown section of Tulum flew by out of the murky van windows, and the aqua ocean filled my view. After college, I spent two years traveling solo around South America. Everywhere I went, I captured hundreds of photographs that unfortunately never landed in a National Geographic magazine as I’d hoped, and whenever an opportunity arose, and I had enough money, I went scuba diving. Diving became a passion I had never anticipated, yet it had also been one of my father’s greatest loves.
Dad disappeared when I was seventeen, yet he seemed to live on through me. Mom often mentioned that I had many of his traits.
But my mother’s ailing health had lured me back home from my travels, and for three years, I had been longing to follow my nomadic dreams again.
Ironically, it was Mom’s latest medical assessment that pushed me to dig deeper into the possible location of Dad’s last known location. It had been a miracle that I’d found out that the nickname for the cave I was about to go to was The Cave of Whispers. If only Dad had detailed the actual name of the cave in his last message, then maybe we could have found him years ago.
My pulse raced at the thought of diving into the mysterious depths of the Las Cuevas de los Susurros, the cave system that I believed housed the ancient Mayan ruins in my father’s last photo. This cave dive would be one of the most technical dives I had ever done, and I couldn’t wait.
The bus jerked to a stop at a rowdy bar with a thatched roof. Individual swings were lined up along the front where bikini-clad women and shirtless men with bronzed skin were all seated and drinking beers. Music blared so loud that I doubted they could be having any meaningful conversations.
Pedro honked his horn, and several tourists on the swings swiveled toward us. I hoped none of them were joining our tour because they couldn’t dive if they’d consumed alcohol.
A man strode out of the bar, and as he shoved a cap over his thick, dark hair, he glanced toward our Kombi and nodded.
I groaned. Don’t tell me that’s Colton.
His stride was strong and purposeful, and his scowl made him look like he was pissed off.
The man climbed into the passenger seat, flicked his cap off, and turned toward us. “Hey, guys. Good to see you all made it.”
He grinned, and I just about swallowed my tongue. Holy smokes, Mr. Grumpy had a spectacular smile.
“I’m Colton Henderson.” A small scar beneath his right eye was shaped like a tiny anchor. He nodded at me. “How about you introduce yourself and tell me something fascinating about you.”
Oh, crap.
“Well, I’m Katherine Reynolds, but everyone calls me Kat.” I shared my gaze to the other passengers in our Kombi, stalling as I tried to pinpoint something interesting about myself. “I’m a photographer.”
“Nice,” Colton said. “I hope you brought an underwater camera with you. We could use some updated photos on our website.”
And on the poster out the front of your shop. Swallowing that comment, I said, “I have a few different cameras with me, so I’ll have plenty of photos to share.”
“Oh, cool. You hear that, Ethan?” Lara said. When he didn’t respond, she slapped him across the back of his head. “Ethan!”
Ethan jerked forward, fumbling with the buds in his ears. “Bloody hell woman, what’d ya hit me for this time?”
“Hey there, Ethan. Nice of you to join us.” Colton huffed. “I’m your dive master for the trip.”
Ethan saluted him. “Nice to meet ya.”
“Kat was telling us she brought an underwater camera so we could get some great shots.” Lara’s enhanced lips formed a puckered grin. “We have over 1.4 million followers on TikTok and Insta, and we’re always scouting for great photography locations.”
“And what about you guys?” Colton indicated to Kasey and Charlie.
“I’m Kasey. I design jewelry and have my own fashion line.”
“Ooh, that’s cool. Maybe I could model some jewelry for you.” Lara fluttered her enormous lashes.
“Oh, damn, I didn’t bring any of my pieces with me. Sorry.” Kasey shrugged.
“No probs, we’ll still get some great shots, right, babe?” Lara grinned at Ethan until he nodded.
I glanced at Colton, and when he rolled his eyes, I stifled a giggle.
“And how about you?” Colton indicated to Charlie.
“I’m just a boring engineer, but my fun party trick is that I can juggle.”
“That’s so cool. Maybe you can teach me.” Lara’s giggle was as fake as her boobs.
“Sure, I can try.” Charlie smiled.
“I hope you have a lot of patience.” Ethan nodded toward his girlfriend.
“Hey.” Lara slapped his shoulder. “What are you implying?”
“Right, then.” Colton shifted in his seat. “Now that we’ve done the intros . . .”
“Hang on,” I said. “You haven’t told us your fascinating fact.”
Colton’s gaze swept over me. “WildKat here wants a fun fact. Hmmm.” He draped his hand over his perfectly trimmed beard. “I was a Navy SEAL before this. How about that?”
“Hey, that’s cool, man,” Ethan said.
Colton’s eyes lingered on me, maybe seeking my approval.
I nodded. “Why did you leave the Navy?”
His expression darkened. “That’s another story. Anyway, settle back, guys. We have a long drive to San Cavernas. Once Pedro gets us out of these crazy streets, I’ll give you some info on the biggest cave system in the world.”
The ride through Tulum was a combination of Pedro’s erratic driving and Lara and Ethan’s constant bickering from the back of the bus.
Finally, Ethan put his earbuds back in, and the Kombi’s grinding engine noise became a constant drone as we left the crowded streets and drove through the residential section of town. Crumbling houses and battered cars demonstrated just how poor the people here were. Finally, we entered a long stretch of road flanked by rugged bush that stretched for miles.
Colton swiveled on his seat to face us again. “So, what brought you to this neck of the woods?”
“Las Cuevas de los Susurros,” I said.
“The Cave of Whispers, huh?” He wriggled his brows, and his mirror sunglasses nudged down his nose.
“How many times have you dived in this cave?” I asked.
He sucked air through his teeth. “I lost track a while ago.”
“Guess,” I said, not impressed with his blasé attitude.
“Oh, I don’t know. Twenty. Fifty.”
I gave him my best evil eye. “There’s a big difference between twenty and fifty.”
“Righty ho. Ms. WildKat wants a number.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please don’t call me that.”
He raised his left hand. “Apologies.” His smirk suggested that he was not sorry, and I had a feeling he intended to use that name even more now that I’d asked him not to.
“And . . . how many dives have you done in Las Cuevas de los Susurros.”
He took off his cap and drove his fingers through his thick hair. “I honestly don’t know, but it would be at least thirty, maybe closer to fifty. They all become a blur after a while.”
“Have you seen the Mayan temple?”
He burst out laughing. “So that’s why you’re here?”
I glared at him. “Why is that funny?”
“I’m sorry to burst your bubble, Kat, but there aren’t any Mayan ruins in Las Cuevas de los Susurros.”
I clamped my jaw before I blurted my reply. I wasn’t telling him about the last photo my father sent before he disappeared. I certainly didn’t need him thinking that my quest to dive into that cave would be clouded by my emotions.
Colton jerked his head from side to side, cracking his neck. “Sorry to tell you this, but the Mayan ruins that are supposedly in that cave are a myth. Probably invented by the locals to attract tourists. Trust me, I have explored a lot of that cave system.”
A lot. . . meaning not all of it.I mentally noted that comment.
My father’s photo was eight years old, yet according to my research, his photo was the only physical proof that Mayan ruins existed in that cave.
I was going to love watching Colton eat his words when I found them.
IfI found them.
We only had four days exploring that extensive cave system. And I couldn’t go home without answers to my father’s disappearance.
It would crush me forever if Mom passed away without knowing the truth. Especially after the promises I’d made to find out what happened to Dad.