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“It sounded like an adventure. My youngest daughter just left for college in the fall and she made me promise to have more fun in my life.”
    “Fun?” Devers asked. “You call this fun?” He turned to McCarter. “What do you think, Professor, you having any fun yet?”
    McCarter’s face was grim. The helicopter had started a steep turn to the right, tilting him toward the open cargo door. He gripped the rails of the seat with bothhands, fearing that his belt might give way at any moment and send him tumbling out the hatch. “This flight’s only a short one,” he managed. “I’m sure things will be a lot more enjoyable once we get in the field.”
    “Right,” Devers said. “Sweating our balls off in a hundred degrees of heat and humidity—that’s when the fun starts.”
    Devers leaned back in his seat, laughing even harder at his own comment.
    “Don’t listen to him,” McCarter said. “It’s probably no more than ninety-five degrees out there. Ninety-six, ninety-seven, tops.”
    As another wave of laughter moved through the group, McCarter thought of his own reasons for joining the expedition. For a moment he felt the grip of sadness creeping in, but then the helicopter began to slow and the treetops gave way to acres of manicured grass and sculptured botanical gardens. A leisurely turn to the left revealed the main buildings of the Hotel San Cristo, and a moment later they were touching down on the helipad.
    McCarter climbed out, thankful to be stretching his legs. He saw a young woman in black slacks and a sleeveless khaki shirt walking toward them from the hotel.
    “Welcome to Brazil,” she said. “I’m Danielle Laidlaw.”

CHAPTER 5
    T hat night, Danielle brought the team together for dinner in one of the hotel’s private dining rooms. The atmosphere was pleasant, the food outstanding and the camaraderie genuine. As far as she could tell, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves … everyone except for Professor McCarter.
    She watched him as he grew progressively more introspective, and when he left the table before dessert, stating he wanted to get to bed early, she excused herself and followed him, trailing him to the hotel’s main bar.
    A drink before going to bed, she thought. Not a bad idea.
    She walked up behind him as the soft music swirled around them and the bartender rushed off to grab a new bottle of whatever McCarter had ordered.
    “Can I pay for that?” she asked. “The prices at this place are outrageous and the dollar’s not what it used to be.”
    He turned, leaning against the polished mahogany and looking at her with a glint in his eye. “I should be ashamed to ask,” he said, smiling. “But what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”
    She laughed lightly at the cliché. It was something Bogart might have said, something her own father might have thought would pass for the height of cool. At least it made for easy conversation. “Who says I’m a nice girl?” she replied.
    “Vicious rumor,” he said.
    “I see,” she said, thinking,
If he only knew her better
. “I’ll have to do something about that. I’m here for a nightcap, actually. Sometimes it’s the only way for me to sleep. Something tells me you feel the same.”
    McCarter sighed. “Just getting used to being alone,” he admitted.
    She nodded. The NRI background check on McCarter had revealed many things, most important of which was the crisis he’d been through for much of the last five years. His wife had been in and out of hospitals, battling cancer, eventually losing to it. She could sense in him the emptiness that such a loss brought on, the questioning.
    Upon learning this, Moore had suggested they find someone else, but Danielle knew a little bit about what McCarter was going through. She believed that once he reengaged with life he would throw himself into the project more fully than another scholar might. She thought that would be to his benefit and was certain it would