Into the Wild by Beth Ciotta Page A

expected of her. Beyond what her family, and David, believed her capable of.
    The longer she was in this unfamiliar region, the more intense her ingrained fears, the greater the need to slay them. Even now she ignored the creepy feeling that she was being watched. She’d had that feeling earlier today. But instead of obsessing, instead of looking over her shoulder, she chalked the sensation up to paranoia. She was out of her element and prone to old issues. She shoved them down and focused on her agenda.
    Find Henry. Save Henry. Maybe salvage their relationship.
    Find David…and talk.
    Closure one way or another in order to move forward.
    Antonio returned with her meal. River tore her gaze from the town’s famous basilica and, beyond that, Tungurahua. She took advantage of the waiter’s friendly smile and language skills. “I’m wondering if you can help,” she said. “I’m in need of a translator and guide. Someone who knows the area. Someone who knows the jungle.”
    She offered as little information as possible. Just as she’d been doing all day. Henry had insisted she not share his journal with anyone except Bovedine. She assumed that meant the information inside. Not that she’d been able to dissect his cryptic notes, but she was prettysure the treasure he spoke of was connected to a place or person named Llanganatis. The one time she’d mentioned the word today, the old woman she’d been trying to speak with had scurried away, muttering, maldición. River still didn’t know what that meant.
    Antonio flashed a smile that said he got this question a hundred times a day. “Baños is a popular starting place for expeditions into the Amazon rain forest and Andes Mountains. There are several tour companies—”
    â€œI’m not interested in a group tour.” River moistened her lips and tried not to betray the panic whispering through her veins at the thought of navigating a jungle. “I need a private guide.”
    The waiter raised a brow. He assessed her petite form and, as David had called them, dainty features.
    River sighed. “I know. I don’t look like I’m cut out for primitive situations.” If she had a nickel for every time she’d heard some variation on that theme. “Regardless, I’m on a mission.”
    â€œIf I may be so bold, signorina. ” Antonio looked over both shoulders before continuing in a lower voice. “In Ecuador, Americans are increasingly targeted for crimes. Robberies and assaults—”
    â€œAnd worse. I know. I read the warnings on a few travel sites. I’ll be careful.”
    â€œIt is just that you are a woman. A very pretty, very—”
    â€œPlease don’t say delicate.”
    He chuckled. “Ah, sí. Perhaps there is more to you than meets the eye.”
    She was counting on it.
    â€œCheck with the tourist center, two blocks down on the right,” he said. “If not there, try El Dosel. It is a popular drinking hole for guides and treasure seekers.”
    â€œTreasure seekers?”
    Beware of the hunters.
    River forked her rice and chicken and tried her best to look nonchalant.
    â€œProfessionals and amateurs. We get them all.”
    â€œWhat are they looking for?”
    â€œInca gold. You have not heard of the Lost Treasure of Llanganatis?”
    Not directly. “No.” River unconsciously palmed her chest. Beneath her layered tees, she felt the amulet she’d secured on a black cord and looped around her neck. Not knowing its meaning or worth, she’d kept it hidden. Just now it burned into her breastbone.
    â€œGoogle it,” Antonio said. “Interesting theory. If I thought there was a chance it was true, I’d be searching, too.”
    She sipped juice to soothe her constricted throat. “So, you think it’s a myth.”
    â€œIt is safer that way.”
    An odd choice of words. “Wait,” she