Where do I start, Sam?

I guess it began with Gina coming to town for the conference. You remember, because I asked you to drive me there and we talked about how I planned to have a few drinks and take a cab later.

Zoologists don't seem to bother with being well-dressed, at least not the ones who actually meet an animal once in a while. I guess they spend a lot of time out in mud and rain, or they get covered with dung and Llama Chow stains, so they get sloppy. I'm not saying everyone in the room looked like they had on whatever'd been at the top of the laundry pile, but some of them came close.

But the woman who came in was over six feet tall and moved like she was trying to be invisible and almost managing it, so everyone would have noticed her even if she hadn't been dressed for a night at the Tropic Room instead of a science presentation. The lecturer was facing the other way, pointing at a slide, and didn't notice her, but everyone else did, and the room got noisy for a second.

"That's her," Gina whispered.

"I guessed. Nobody knows who she is? Has anybody tried asking? You're scientists, aren't you supposed to ask questions?"

"Tell you later," Gina said. The lecturer was glaring at us. Well, he was glaring at the whole audience.

The woman hadn't taken a seat, there weren't any left, so she was leaning against a wall. Made it easy to look her over. I didn't care if she noticed. Besides being tall, she was skinny. You'd have said too skinny, Sam, but her dress (black, severe, and if it was off-the-rack she'd had amazing luck) was sleeveless and I could see her shoulders, and she wasn't fragile. I wouldn't have wanted to have to wrestle her.

I couldn't tell whether she was coffee-colored because of genetics or lots of beach time. I didn't think she was American, but not enough to bet on it. Her hair was long, black, in kinks which could have been natural or could have been put in with a crimper that morning. Oval face. High eyebrows, thick and angular. Dark brown eyes, once they caught enough light for me to tell.

She did notice me looking, and she smiled a little bit. Not a good smile, not with the slight tightening of her eyes that went with it. She was studying me, returning the favor, and once she saw whatever she needed to see, she went back to her main focus.

I couldn't tell who that was until the presentation ended (finally!) and everybody was leaving. She crossed the room, weaving through people at high speed without bumping into a single one, and latched onto a mean-looking little man, couldn't have been more than five-two, nearly bald, wearing a wrinkled shirt with sweat stains in the pits, top button open. He didn't seem like her type, but you never know.

-----

"Phil Austin did ask her," Gina said, once we were at the bar. "I didn't think he had it in him. He says she said she was with the Brazilian government. Wildlife management, out of Manaus."

"Where's Manaus? I mean, besides in Brazil." You know me, I'm fine at geography--for anywhere I can drive in an afternoon.

"In the middle of the Amazon rainforest."

"I guess there's wildlife there to manage."

She sipped her Manhattan and made a face like she'd tasted something bad, but it wasn't the booze. "Yes, but as far as verifiability she might as well say she was from Mars."

"You don't believe her."

"It's a small community, Honey. Everybody knows everybody."

"So you know the guy she glued herself to?"

"Jerome van Brunt," she said, scowling.

"Not your favorite person?"

"Or anybody else's. I'm surprised he dared to show up. All of us big cat people have gotten kind of jumpy about preservation, especially the arboreal species," she explained. "They need a lot of space, and the countries where most of them live are all clearing forest like crazy, for logging, for farming, whatever. We're trying to get some of them to set aside land, but it's a hard sell. They think there's plenty of room, and the corporates are throwing money at them to let them wreck the place."

"OK, but what's that got to do with van Brunt?"

"Well, he contracts with those companies as a consultant. For example, there are some people trying to build roads through the Lacandon jungle ... you're going to ask me where it is and I'm going to tell you it's mostly the Yucatán Peninsula and you're going to ask me where that is. Mexico. The part of Mexico you don't drive to when you go on one of your vacations."

"I could drive to it if they built roads. Roads are bad?"

"Roads are good, but they also increase access for the bad stuff. Like people wanting to look for oil. Or clear-cut trees. I don't know, Honey." She sighed. "I just want to study cats, not practice politics."

"Sorry. Just trying to figure this out. So all of you think van Brunt's taking the devil's money."

"More or less," she said.

"Do you think she's working with him?"

She polished off her drink. "No. I'm not sure why, but no." She frowned, then immediately chased it off her face. "Anyway, sorry to make you sit through that presentation, but she's been the major gossip for two months now and I wanted you to see her. Let's talk about something else. I haven't seen you in nearly a year! How's Bruce? Are you feeding him the way I told you to? Is Sam still a pain in the ass?"

(She really did say that, Sam, honest.)

-----

We talked, then had some food, then talked some more, and it was maybe ten o'clock and we were going up to Gina's room, and we probably were only going to have one more drink and nothing else. We hadn't done anything like that since Gina married Dan, even if Dan wouldn't care, though we did tease at it sometimes and it was always fun to have the idea floating around in the air. We could if we wanted, but we won't. Like that.

We got out of the elevator, only wobbling a little bit, and Gina grabbed my arm. When I made a noise she covered my mouth and pointed. The mystery woman and van Brunt were about twenty feet ahead of us down the hallway. They were going the same way we were, so their backs were to us, but with van Brunt's hairline plus the height difference they were unmistakable. They were acting like they were joined at the hip. They had their arms around each other--well, her hand was resting on his shoulder; his was squeezing her ass. You remember when I threw a man out a window once for doing that?

They stopped and he had some trouble getting out his key. When he did get the door open he went inside in a hurry, but she stopped long enough to turn and see us walking up the hall, and she recognized us both before she went in. I could see it.

Gina had been chatty and cheerful downstairs, but now that we were up in her room I got the impression that she was still worried or unhappy about something. I didn't think it was the woman or van Brunt, but if I asked her she'd just deny it, so I didn't. We did have that last drink, but there wasn't even any pretending at anything else. She realized that whatever was eating her was showing, so she apologized and made a date for a late breakfast the next day--quickly; like she was pushing me out before I could ask any questions.

I snooped, Sam. I admit it. On the way back down the hall, I stopped at the van Brunt door and I listened. There was nobody else in the hall to notice, so I stood there for at least a couple of minutes.

I don't know what I expected to hear. I certainly didn't expect to hear what I did. I heard a growl. A low-pitched, rumbling growl. If a person made that noise, I'm not sure how they did it. The only creature I'd ever heard make a noise even close to that was Bruce.

I listened a while longer before leaving, hoping it would happen again so I'd know I hadn't imagined it, but it didn't.

-----

I didn't get enough sleep, and after a few tries I admitted to the mirror the next day that this was the best I was going to manage and everybody was just going to have to live with it. Didn't matter, because Gina, who was usually sweetness and light in the morning to the point where you wanted to murder her, was such a complete wreck she didn't even notice I was.

"This fast living is beginning to catch up with you," I said.

"Not funny," she replied. "I was called at four this morning by the police."

"Oh, boy. Do I need to get you a lawyer?"

She held up a hand as the waitress finished pouring coffee, picked up the cup, drained almost all of it, set it back down and gestured for a refill. "It's because you have a horrible zoo."

"I'm sure this will make sense soon."

"They wanted advice on catching a cougar. Maybe your zoo does have a cat person and they couldn't find them. Maybe they called everyone at the conference and I was the one they managed to wake up."

"A little urban for cougars, isn't it?"

"You'd think. But wait for it. I pulled on some clothes and went out. I didn't trust them not to shoot it. It wasn't a cougar. It was a jaguar. A black one, at that. Hard to tell the difference in the dark, I guess."

"How'd a jaguar get here?"

"Isn't that a good question? The zoo doesn't have one; I asked. And isn't it funny that it shows up at the same time the big cat people are in town?"

"Oh. But surely the police don't think one of you brought it in your suitcase."

"Who knows? Anyway, that was my fun morning ... what?"

"What?"

"You just got that face you make when you're connecting the dots."

I told her about walking past van Brunt's room. "Maybe one of them is crazy enough."

"I'd believe it. But wouldn't someone would have seen them trying to bring a jaguar into the hotel?"

"Or getting it out of the hotel. I don't think I'll share this with the police."

It wasn't a very enjoyable breakfast. I couldn't tell if she was just tired, but I didn't push it. We said our good-byes. Gina didn't have to leave till that evening, but I had to go give that Detweiler deposition and I knew that was going to waste the whole afternoon. You know, Sam, the problem with this job, besides getting shot at sometimes, is you spend too much of your time telling stories to lawyers who don't even appreciate them.

-----

The thing is ... you know the way people act when they're having trouble deciding whether to hire us or not? Well, that's what I'd been picking up from Gina. I don't mean she wanted to hire me, but I got the idea that there was a problem she wanted solving, or at least wanted to talk to me about, and couldn't quite manage to do it.

It hurt my feelings a little. I've known Gina since high school. But I had other things to do. That was when what's-his-name, the banker, died, remember? His widow wanted us to prove it was murder, and it didn't work out the way she wanted? I think we took most of a month on that, and then you had to go to San Diego. If you remember what day you left, that's the day the PI visited me.

He looked about fifteen, with a crewcut and big eyes, a very white shirt and a dark tie. I thought maybe he was a Mormon until he showed me his investigator's license. Pennsylvania. Honestly, I think he was too polite to make a good PI, Sam, but maybe they do it differently there.

"I'm trying to find a missing person," he said.

"Missing from Pennsylvania?"

"Yes, but we think he went missing here. His name is Jerome van Brunt."

I didn't give anything away, because I didn't know where this was going yet. "Are you looking for local help?"

"Actually, no. No offense. He was last seen at a zoology conference here. I've been working through the attendees and one of them tells me you may have something."

"Your client must be pretty generous about travel expenses. May I ask who it is? I'll trade information."

He pursed his lips, then relaxed. "Why not. Since you're in the business. In confidence, though, please. I'm investigating on behalf of his wife."

"This wife--I'm guessing she's probably not very tall, thin, brown, with black hair?"

He gave me a suspicious look. "You said you'd trade information."

There didn't seem to be any harm in it, especially since nobody else but Gina could have sent him, so I told him about the hotel room and about hearing the growl. I even told him about the jaguar. I don't think he believed me, though.

"Thank you," he said, after digesting that. "And you haven't seen either van Brunt or the woman since then?"

"Nope. I haven't seen anything in the news, either, and I try to pay attention to things like that."

"I'm not surprised," he said. "The police certainly don't seem interested, not that they'd tell us anything anyway."

"I don't figure you're getting much love from the other attendees either."

He smiled tightly. "Mr. van Brunt does not appear to have been well-liked within his scientific community, no." He stood up, fished out a card, and handed it to me. "I won't take up more of your time. If you do see or hear anything--"

"I'll let you know."

I felt bad for him, to have travelled all that way just to get that little scrap of information.

-----

That was it for another four or five months, Sam. We had a busy winter and I didn't think about any of it again until Gina called me and said there was going to be a conference in April and she knew it was a lot to ask but maybe I could come see her and Dan and anyway it wasn't going to be like I had to go all the way to the other coast, only to Chicago, and ...

I honestly don't think she realized how frantic she sounded. I told her I'd love to come out, and I told myself that this time I was going to nail down what was bothering her no matter what it took.

As it happened, we had a loose end in Chicago--we wanted to see a lawyer there about that safe-deposit box, remember? I never got a chance to tell you how that came out, but you didn't miss much. Anyway, I arrived the second day of the conference, did that errand, then went to meet Dan and Gina in the hotel bar before dinner.

Gina was by herself. She didn't look good. "Dan stayed a minute to talk to someone," she said. "He'll be along."

"Want to tell me about it?" I said, after we'd begun drinks.

"About what?"

"Gina, honestly. Something's been bothering you, maybe since before you were in California. Your makeup doesn't hide those dark circles well enough."

She sighed. "I didn't know for sure then, so I decided not to bring it up. We're just having to make some rough decisions. Look, don't mention it until he tells you himself, but ... Dan didn't get tenure."

"Oh."

"And I'm hired a semester at a time, they won't give me anything firmer than that. It's not good enough, Honey. We were talking about having a baby, but not if we're going to have to chase jobs all over the country every year."

"I'm sorry." I'm not the settle-down-raise-a-kid type, as you know very well, but I did understand the problem. Or at least I thought I did.

"We'll figure something out," she said, taking a long sip of her drink. "Anyway, Dan's taking it hard."

Speaking of which ... "Should he be here by now?"

"Oh, he probably got absorbed. He got a chance to pick the brain of a geneticist he's been worshipping from afar for years." She finished her drink. "Let's order another, and if he doesn't show up when we finish that, we'll send out a search party."

"You do that, while I visit the powder room," I said.

I had to cross the hotel lobby to get there, and as I passed in front of the elevators, one of them opened and Dan stepped out. He couldn't pretend not to see me; we practically collided.

"Oh, uh, there you are," he said. "Wasn't I supposed to meet you two in your room?"

"No," I said. I removed a stray hair from his shirt collar. A long black hair, kinked in zigzags. "Dan, what's my room number?" I asked, as I stared at it.

"Um--I ... I must have ..."

"Why, Dan?" I said. "Have you lost your mind?"

He stared at me, unable to speak, and for one second I thought I had made a really bad mistake. Then he cracked.

"I couldn't--I mean, I don't know, there was something about her that I just couldn't say no to. I don't even know why she was interested ... she asked me to come up with her and it was like I didn't even realize what I was doing ... My god, I've really screwed up, haven't I? Gina--is she frantic?"

"Gina thinks you're still off somewhere chattering about genetics," I said. "Calm down. If you shake, she'll know. You got carried away with your conversation, like she thought. She'll fuss at you and that'll be it."

"You're--"

"I'm not going to rat on you, Dan. If you promise me you won't pull something like this ever again. And one other condition."

Nervous eyes. "What?"

"Her room number." They wouldn't have gone to Dan and Gina's room. "I need to talk to this woman."

"But--"

"I mean it. Right now, Dan."

He told me. "What are you going to say to her?"

"Nothing you have to worry about. Apologize to Gina. Tell her I wasn't feeling well all of a sudden, and I'll try to be back down for dinner if I can."

-----

I know, Sam. You've fussed at me a thousand times about rushing into a situation. I can hear you in my head saying it now. I didn't have enough information, I didn't have a gun with me, I could have gotten killed. But I was just going to talk to her, that's all.

Except, I don't know, maybe that's a lie. Because I hadn't said I'd definitely be back down for dinner. I hadn't promised that, and I don't know why I hadn't. I don't know what I was thinking would happen next, and I don't know why I did some of the things I did. That's the best I've got, Sam. I just don't have answers.

I wasn't the least bit nervous, honestly, but I did wonder what I was going to say when she opened the door. When she did open it, I couldn't say anything at all, because at close range, her eyes--so dark, almost black--they held me so hard I couldn't even focus on the rest of her face.

From a long way away, I heard her say, "I know you, don't I?"

"You don't get to have Dan," I said. I'm pretty sure I said that.

She moved to the side, permission to come in, so I did. Then I was sitting on a chair. She was sitting on the end of the bed, a foot away from me, crossing her legs. She was wearing a bathrobe. There was a smell. I couldn't figure it out. Sweat, something harsh besides sweat, but also ... flowers? Not flowers I knew. Heavy and sweet, from somewhere else.

"Is that really what you're here for?" she asked.

"He has a good marriage," I said.

"There are things you don't know." She leaned toward me, reaching out a long arm to unbutton my blouse.

"And you know them? Do you have a name?"

"Several." It wasn't sweat. It was ... what word do I want? Animal in heat. Musk.

"People want to talk to you about van Brunt," I said.

"I know." She pulled my blouse open and it fell down to my waist. Touched me just above the collarbone with one sharp fingernail, pushed the strap of my bra off my shoulder.

My head wouldn't clear. I grabbed her wrist. "I'm not here for that."

She smiled. Her teeth were very white. "Liar."

"No, I'm not." I stood up. My balance was off. I pulled my blouse back up.

She laughed, low, at the back of her throat, and lay back on the bed. She pulled her robe open, fully exposed, legs still off the bed, wide apart. She locked eyes with me and smiled again with those sharp mean gleaming teeth.

I was drowning in the smell.

Then I was kneeling at the foot of the bed. I don't remember in between. Her legs were around me and my head was between them, where the smell was too powerful to think. I was licking and tasting and trying to figure out with my tongue what was happening and why. I had one hand between my own legs, I'd yanked my skirt up around my waist and reached inside my panties and I hadn't even realized I'd done it. I couldn't have stopped if I had.

She was laughing, the same low laugh, but also panting, catching her breath between each laugh. She sat up suddenly, grabbed me with both arms, held me in place, making sure I didn't stop. I felt her claw my shoulders. I was gasping, trying to remember to breathe. Her laugh was higher now, turning into a yowl. A scream. My fingers had found their way and I might have been screaming too, I don't know, I couldn't tell.

I sat, trying hard just to breathe. If her leg hadn't been there for me to lean against. I'd have fallen over onto the floor. She'd laid back down on the bed. She was out of breath too, but she started to laugh again, quietly.

"Tell me again what you came for," she said.

I couldn't say anything. Even if I'd had the breath I wouldn't have known what to say.

"Go now," she said, and I went.

I felt so exhausted, I had trouble getting to my room; lifting one foot and then another was too much work. I dropped onto the bed. The stickiness in my panties was embarrassing and uncomfortable and I could still taste and smell her, lingering in my nose and my mouth, but I didn't brush my teeth or take a shower or even undress. I just passed out.

-----

I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't warn you on purpose, because I know how you get, and I didn't want you to skip that part. It wasn't to shock you. I just think it's important.

The phone in my room woke me up the next day and I almost didn't answer it. I knew it was going to be Gina and she was going to be upset with me and I wasn't in any condition to deal with it. Then I remembered that she had no idea anything had happened, so she was probably just wondering where I was.

"I missed breakfast, didn't I?" I said.

"Breakfast? Did I wake you up? Do you know what time it is?"

I turned the clock on the bedside table around. After noon. "I do now."

"Are you all right? Dan said you weren't feeling well. You were fine just before--"

"It came on suddenly. I guess I really needed to sleep something off. I'm feeling better now. Do you want to try for dinner again tonight?"

"Same bar, same time," she said.

After I hung up, guilt kicked in with a vengeance and it took me a while before I could bring myself to get up and take a shower. Sleeping in my clothes had left wrinkle marks all over me, and while I couldn't get a good look at them, the raw scratches all over my shoulders were easy to find by touch. Every time they twinged, my conscience flared up again too.

Food would probably help; I hadn't had anything since lunch the day before. As I was getting ready to go find some, I had the weirdest hesitation. I just really didn't want to leave the room. It was very strong. I told myself I was being ridiculous and I did eventually go, but it took me a while.

When I got to the bar that night, neither Dan nor Gina was there, and a quarter hour past time they still weren't. I was thinking about going to the front desk to call their room when Gina came in. Ran in, really. Out of breath.

"Have you seen Dan?"

"Not since yesterday night."

"I can't find him! And no one else has seen him today either. He didn't go to any of the things he said he was going to. Honey, he wasn't in the room this morning when I got up. I figured he just wanted to go to the conference earlier than I did, but--"

"Gina, calm down. Look, stay here for a little while; maybe he just decided he didn't want to deal with the conference today and went out to be a tourist. He might walk in any second. I'll go see if the hotel desk knows anything."

I didn't go to the front desk, of course. I went straight up to the room. Her room. In a rage. I might have knocked the door down, except one of the housekeeping staff saw me pounding on it and told me they'd checked out. I probably should have guessed on my own.

I won't bother telling you about the rest of the night, Sam, but it was miserable. Gina was frantic, and the whole time we were running around looking for Dan I couldn't look her in the eye. One little thing, though. We were in a cab to somewhere, I don't remember, we went all kinds of places. Gina hadn't said a word since we got in, but suddenly she said, very softly:

"I woke up in the middle of the night and I think I heard him leave."

"You're not sure?"

"I didn't even reach over to his side of the bed," she said. "I wasn't awake! I thought I dreamed it! Maybe I did."

I looked at her and thought, oh, no.

"He wasn't taking it well," she said. "The tenure. He wasn't taking it well. Honey, what if he--"

"He didn't," I said. "And it's not your fault."

"You don't know," she said. "Maybe I should have said something different. Maybe I could have stopped him."

"Gina."

She set her jaw and didn't say anything else for the rest of the trip.

In case you haven't guessed, Sam, we didn't find Dan anywhere.

-----

I think that night was the first night I had the dream. If it wasn't that night it was the next one. I've had it many times since then. I never told you about the dream.

It always starts the same way. I'm running through the jungle. Or wandering through it, smelling my way, watching for movement with my sharp eyes. Hunting. Either way, I'm on four feet. I'm not a person. I'm a cat. Some kind of big cat. It usually takes me a while to figure that out.

There's two ways it ends. In one version, I realize something is following me. Chasing me. I can't see it, but I can hear sounds behind me that I'm not making, and sometimes I can see her shadow. I run as fast as I can, but she's faster. Eventually she catches me.

In the other version, I reach a big stone thing, kind of like a pyramid, but blockier, squared-off. It has steps, and I have to climb them slowly because I'm a cat and it's hard with four feet. She's sitting at the top, on a stone throne. She opens her legs and the scent hits me and I have to go to her.

I wake up from the first dream sweating. I'm not going to tell you what I usually do when I wake up from the other kind.

-----

I know you noticed something, Sam. You're not the world's greatest talker, but there's nothing wrong with your powers of observation, and I'm sorry; I must have been pretty hard to take. We blew the Seropian case completely, and you nearly got shot when we handled that thing for Mr. Parr, and both of those were my fault. My mind just wasn't on the job.

I would have pulled it together, maybe in another month or so, but at the end of June I got a letter.

Honey:

It's taken me a while, but I've finally realized Dan isn't coming back. I don't know what's happened to him, but at this point, I don't think that matters.

Dan took on a commitment, and I don't have to honor it, but there's nothing here for me now, and I can't look some of these people in the eye. If these assholes had given either of us any kind of stability none of this would have happened.

I'm going to be out of the country for a while on this thing that Dan was hired to do. If you want to reach me, this address should reach me (slowly).

- Gina

The address was somewhere in Mexico.

That was when it started to make sense. Gina had said van Brunt was working for a corporate project in Mexico. Dan had taken on a project, and Gina knew he had when I saw her in Chicago and she wasn't too sure about it; that's what she was getting at when she was talking about making rough decisions. Dan was gone and Gina had taken up his project. In Mexico.

I know I left in a hurry. I'm sorry (I keep saying I'm sorry) that I didn't give you more warning. But you're a big boy, Sam, I knew you could manage by yourself. I should have explained more, but there wasn't time, and would you even have believed me?

To get to the middle of the Lacandon jungle, first you fly to Mexico City, then you get on a smaller plane to Mérida, then you take a bus down the coast to a little town whose name I can't remember, and then you convince the company that you have reason to go to the work site and you wait until they do their once-a-week delivery run. The whole thing takes ten days if you're lucky with the connections. You're dripping wet the whole time. I thought I had been in some hot weather, but I'd never been in the Yucatán in July.

I had a dream one of those nights, waiting for my next connection, that wasn't the usual dream. It was unbelievably hot and I was walking thigh-deep in muck, muddy slimy water you could almost see steam rising from. Slowly thrusting one leg ahead of the other, through the mire, tangling in water plants whose tentacles wanted to drag me below the surface. Feeling the rot forming all over my skin, an itch too many places to scratch.

She was waiting where the dry land grew from the mud, hair down in her eyes, partially covering them but not their gleam. Surrounding her in a circle, some cats whose faces I knew. Collectively rumbling. Not sure if it was a happy noise or a growl.

"I can save you," she said. Or maybe she didn't. Maybe I said, "You can save me." I don't know which.

When I got to the work site, it was a complete mess. People were running around shouting. My Spanish needs a lot of work, but I managed to get the idea that a jaguar had been seen in camp and they were either going to try to kill it or scare it away, I couldn't tell which.

I couldn't get anyone to hold still long enough to tell me which was Gina's tent, but the foreign overlords were the only ones with individual tents and there weren't a lot of those to check. The woman was in the third one I tried.

She'd set a small fire in a metal bucket and was feeding it papers from a stack, one by one. Crosslegged on the ground, naked, no hurry to be anywhere, not caring if she was seen, sweat beading all over her back. Her skin was flawless. She smelled stronger than ever.

"You've taken my friends," I said.

She didn't turn around. "Your friends should have made better choices."

"You want to take away their lives because they did one stupid thing?"

"What makes you think I am taking anything away?"

I lost my temper. I mean, you could call it that. I leaped at her and I heard a cat snarling and it wasn't until later I realized I'd made the noise myself. I threw her down, pushed her flat against the floor, on top of her on all fours, and Sam, you won't believe this but I was seriously about to take her throat in my mouth and rip it out with my teeth.

She flashed a smile and, before I could react at all, she had flipped us. My head hit the floor and she was on top, looking down at me. She wasn't flustered or angry. If anything, she was amused.

"I will tell you a story," she said.

"Once the jaguar, creature of fire, creature of the hunt, was no enemy to man, nor a friend.

"The jaguar came upon a young would-be hunter one day, who had clearly had no luck for some days. The boy was thin as a bird leg, nearly starved. The jaguar invited the boy to sit upon his back and ride to his home, where he would be fed dinner.

"In those days the men did not know fire. The boy was amazed at his first taste of cooked meat. The jaguar's wife was a human, and childless. She convinced her husband to let her adopt the boy into the household.

"The jaguar disliked the boy. He insisted that the boy always get the old tough pieces of meat and scratched him in the face when he complained. The jaguar's wife, meanwhile, taught the boy to hunt properly, giving him a bow and arrows and teaching him how to shoot them.

"One day, the boy took the bow and shot the jaguar in a fit of anger. Then, realizing what he had done, he fled, taking with him the weapon and a piece of roasted meat.

"When the boy returned to the human village, he told his tale and shared the meat. Meanwhile the jaguar's wife had returned home, found her husband dead, and gone to burn his body amidst her tears. While she was out building the pyre, the humans came back to her house, and seeing the fire, took it away with them.

"When the jaguar's wife discovered what the ungrateful humans had done, she vowed revenge, and declared from that time she would eat her meat raw. Only the reflection of fire could be seen in her eyes."

She stared down at me.

"I don't know what you want me to say," I said.

She dropped herself onto my body and kissed me, her skin hot against me even through my clothes. Then she bit my lip, hard. I yelped, and she licked my blood from her teeth.

She unfastened my pants and put her hand inside my panties. A tiny part of me wanted to try to hit her, hurt her; most of me wanted to beg her to let me put my tongue in her again.

She leaned down and kissed me again, her tongue lingering over my bleeding lip, tasting it, while her long pointed fingers found what they were searching for. Carefully, as if she didn't want to leave any scratches this time. Not in a hurry.

I arched my back and yowled.

I was still vibrating, trying to catch my breath, with my eyes still closed I don't know how many minutes later, when I heard her softly next to my ear: "The third time is forever. Remember that." When I opened my eyes she was gone.

Outside the tent, I heard the sounds of the camp beginning to collect itself again. I hoped the jaguar had gotten away; it used to be someone I knew. I wasn't worried about the woman getting away. I didn't think anyone ever saw her unless she wanted them to. I sat up slowly, pulled my pants up, tried to look normal.

She hadn't finished burning the papers. I sighed, gathered up the last of the stack we'd scattered while we were tussling, and put them in the fire.

-----

So that's the story, Sam, and here's one more apology: I'm sorry it's taken me so long to send this. First I had to deal with the leftovers of Gina going missing (and convince people I didn't have anything to do with it). By the way, the Lacandon project has been cancelled for now. Too many disappearances. The locals don't want to work for the company anymore; they say it's cursed. They'll probably try again in a few years with a fresh crew. Some people never give up.

Second, it's been a little hard to focus. Three is forever, but two is almost forever. The first couple of weeks I couldn't concentrate on anything at all. I kept wanting to rip off all my clothes and run around the jungle in the dark. I keep smelling things I'm not supposed to be able to smell and hearing things I probably shouldn't hear. Maybe it'll come in handy for detective work.

Don't worry, though, I'm coming back. I just need a little longer to get my head straight. I did think about finding her again, you know. Maybe she really does have a job in Manaus. She has to pay for those hotel rooms somehow. But I don't think I want to go all the way. We already have one difficult cat in the house, and I don't think Bruce would like having competition.

All my love,

- Honey