In Too Deep by Sherryl Woods

dialect.”
    â€œRod, this is important. I can work around the language barrier. That dam could wipe out their land. I want to know how they feel about it.”
    â€œHow do you think they feel? Just because they don’t live in bungalows with white picket fences doesn’t mean they want to be forced out of their homes every time the government thinks up some new project for this part of Mexico.”
    â€œThanks for the insight, but I’ll feel better if I hear that from them.”
    He groaned. “Why the hell couldn’t Scottie have insisted you stick to piano lessons and tea parties?”
    â€œBecause he wasn’t around. By the time he turned up, I was playing drums and hooked on coffee. Now are you going to help me with this or not?”
    â€œYou’re not going to give it a rest, are you?”
    â€œNo.”
    He sighed and stood up. “Then let’s go. I’m pretty sure these men came from the settlement near the archaeological site. It’s not much, just a few huts, but you can see the way they live.”
    â€œWe don’t need to go there. We can talk to them here.”
    â€œNot anymore.”
    Startled, she looked around and realized the Lacandones had literally vanished into the forest.
    Rod was right about the distance to their settlement, though. It took them less than a half hour to reach it. There were no more than half a dozen thatched-roof huts. Clay figures were being baked over an open fire, probably to be sold later at the market at the entrance to the ruins in Palenque. The woman who was watching over the fire scampered away when she saw them. Moments later the same five men who had startled Cara earlier emerged and approached them.
    The leader appeared to be well past middle age, though it was hard to tell with his weathered skin. His dark hair hung long and untamed. His flat features reflected his Mayan heritage, and his carriage was proud. All the men were barefoot and wore long white tunics made of a coarse fabric that looked as though it would itch horribly in the heat.
    â€œYou stay here,” Rod instructed and for once Cara didn’t argue. “I’ll try talking to them and find out if they’re willing to meet with you.”
    As Rod went toward the leader, she began to have second thoughts. Moments later an argument broke out among the men, and one of them stalked off. The others continued to argue as Rod stood by. Dear God, what had she gotten them into this time? She was only trying to do her job, but perhaps, just this once, she should have listened to Rod. They were in the middle of nowhere. They were outnumbered. And from everything that had been going on lately, they were very unpopular with someone. It could be these Lacandones. Her palms began to sweat. There was a prickling sensation along the back of her neck.
    And then she heard the music. Vivaldi. Vivaldi? Here? Civilization had apparently made further inroads than she’d realized.
    When Rod returned, she said, “Do you hear that?”
    He seemed more startled by the question than the music. “The Vivaldi?”
    She glowered at him. “Exactly.”
    â€œOne of the boys traded a bow and arrow for a tape player. It’s the only tape they have.”
    â€œHow do you know that?”
    He chuckled. “Are you getting just a little spooked again, princess? I’m not omniscient, if that’s what you’re worried about. I asked.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œNow, come on. Señor Castillo will talk with you.”
    â€œWhat was the argument about?”
    â€œOne of the men objected to speaking with an outsider, especially a woman. Señor Castillo and the others overruled him.”
    Cara wondered if there had been more to the man’s objections than he’d voiced in front of Rod. Was it possible that he was the one involved in the sabotage and had no wish to sit down with two people he considered the enemy?
    Whatever the