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“Well?” Bates prompted, looming over her with all the implied threat of a prowling tiger.
Solemnly, Ellie gave him a nod.
He moved closer. He was a large man, towering over her by a solid six inches. He was near enough for her to feel the warmth that radiated off his very big, very solid body as he reached around her head and gently untied the knot that held her gag in place.
As soon as she felt the tension in the binding give, Ellie ripped it away, coughing at the dryness in her throat. Bates tossed back the rest of his drink, crossed to the washstand, and filled the glass with water from the pitcher there. When he offered it to her, Ellie accepted without protest and gulped down the liquid inside. It burned against her throat before providing a desperate relief.
“I’ll get you another,” Bates said. He plucked the glass from her hands and carried it over for a refill.
Ellie felt shaky. She looked around the room for a place to sit. The only surface that offered itself was the unmade bed. She dropped down onto it and let her face fall into her bound hands.
Chair legs scraped against the floor. A large hand gently tugged at her wrists.
“Hey,” Bates said. “Let me take care of this.”
Ellie allowed him to draw down her arms. He set to work on the knots. The bindings fell away to expose raw, red bands of skin where the cloth had chafed against her wrists.
Something about the man in front of her coiled up dangerously at the sight.
“Was he dragging you around?” he demanded as he raised those shockingly blue eyes to meet her own, his voice rich with threat.
“No,” Ellie said as she drew her arms back away from him and tucked them around her sides. “I probably did that to myself when I was escaping.”
“Of course you did,” Bates replied. He rubbed his hands over his face as though fighting down whatever violent urge had been about to overtake him. “That guy your husband?”
“Absolutely not!” Ellie exclaimed.
“Sorry,” he said. “But it happens more often than you’d like to think.”
The observation surprised her almost as much as the question had. Ellie gave the man in front of her a more thoughtful look.
“I’m aware,” she replied.
Bates pushed back in his chair and turned to a narrow dresser with a chipped finish. The top of it was piled high with letters, some of which were yellowed with age. Most of them looked unopened.
He pulled open a drawer.
“I’ve got some aloe salve in here,” he offered. “Might help.”
“Thank you,” Ellie replied quietly.
He returned with a battered little tin. He screwed it open and scooped out some of the unguent inside.
Ellie offered him her wrists again. He took them gently and smoothed the aloe over her skin. His fingers were roughly calloused, but his touch was careful.
Bates capped the salve and tossed it neatly into the drawer. He leaned back in his chair and pinned her with a look.
“Time to tell me what all this is about,” he ordered.
Ellie’s heart rattled uncomfortably in her chest. She rose from the bed and brushed past him to stand by the map that covered the better part of the wall.
In fact, there was more than just one map. Various layers of them were pinned into place and augmented by sketches and notes.
Possible cataracts,one read.Sinkhole. Cenote. Midden.
The handwriting matched the loose scrawl in a notebook that lay open on the table.
Ellie ran her fingers along a line inked in blue that meandered across the wall—obviously the course of a river. It had been drawn in by hand.
