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.The smallest carving, which was about the size of a quarter, had giant lips and goggle eyes.Its mate had a square jaw, a pointy hat, and a wicked scowl.The largest piece would’ve been a perfect two-inch square if it didn’t have a chunk missing from upper right hand corner.This face was the friendliest looking of the three, with squinty eyes, an upturned nose and giant holes for nostrils.“I swear to God,” I said, still staring, “I’ve never seen those before in my life.”“What are they?” Karen asked.“Ornaments.” Sergeant Ramos tilted his hand toward Karen so she could have a better look.“They were worn by ancient Mayan kings and nobleman.”“Then why don’t they have any gold or jewels?” Karen asked in prosecutor mode.“This isn’t Egypt,” Sergeant Ramos replied testily.“In Central America, we used jade and shells.”“How old are they?” I asked, studying the jade faces.“Pre-Colombian, I think,” he said, “More than a thousand years old.”“What are they worth?” Karen asked, before I could.I wondered if she was thinking the same thing I was—if I paid for them, maybe they’d let me go.The large one actually looked very similar to a pendant I’d seen in the hotel’s gift shop.That one was brand new and had more intricate carvings, and it was only $49.95.Sergeant Ramos quickly put an end to that fantasy.“They’re priceless.”“What now?” Jeremy asked.Sergeant Ramos nodded to the security guard, who grabbed both of my arms and held them behind my back.“Hey, what are you doing,” I yelled, followed by Jeremy’s, “Let go of her.”“Stand back Mr.Markowitz,” Sergeant Ramos said with his hand on his gun.“Ms.Mancini, you’re under arrest.”“For what?”“Possession of antiquities and intent to export antiquities.”“But I didn’t even know they were in my suitcase!”Sergeant Ramos cuffed my hands behind my back and started walking me towards the exit.“You don’t have to say anything unless you wish to do so,” he said, “but what you say may be taken down in writing and given in evidence.You may also speak privately with an attorney.”I looked back at Jeremy and Karen, too stunned to speak.“Don’t say a word,” Jeremy yelled.“I’ll call the Consulate as soon as we land in Miami.” Karen had her hand on his arm and was pulling him towards the gate.In my mind I was screaming, Please don’t leave me, but the words wouldn’t come.Sergeant Ramos talked for the entire five minute ride to the police station, but I have no idea what he said.My mind was racing: How did that jade get into my suitcase? I had to assume it was Michael who hid it there.But why? And when? Sure he had a key to the room, but as far as I knew, he’d only used it when I was there.He must’ve snuck in when I wasn’t.Otherwise, how did the ornaments end up sewn into my bag? Someone stashed them in my suitcase and I know it wasn’t me.Sergeant Ramos walked me up the front steps of a dilapidated wooden structure and held tight to my arm as he unlocked the front door.“Aren’t police stations supposed to be open all night?” I’d always assumed they were a 24-7 operation.“Not on Camus Caye,” he said as he flipped on the lights.I heard barking and turned to follow the sound.In the corner of the room was a six-foot by four-foot cell housing two dogs.The barking came from the smaller one, the mutt.Sergeant Ramos told him we had no food and he quieted down.The larger one, the German shepherd, merely opened one eye before falling back to sleep.“Some guard dogs, eh?” he said and laughed.The humor escaped me.“Aren’t I entitled to a phone call?” People are always entitled to phone calls in the movies.Plus I was an American.That had to count for something.I didn’t want to cry, but I couldn’t stop the tears from trickling down my cheeks.Sergeant Ramos unlocked my handcuffs and handed me the handkerchief from his pocket.“Yes Ms.Mancini, who would you like to call?”“I don’t know,” I blubbered.“Does it have to be local?” The only two local people I could think of were Jack and Cheryl.Besides the fact that I didn’t know their numbers, neither of them were speaking to me.“No, but if it’s out of the country you must call collect or charge it to your credit card.We don’t have the budget for international calls.”That was obvious.The only furniture in the room was a beat up desk, a folding table, and two chairs.No computer, no fax machine, not even AC.Just a phone, a fan, and a coffeemaker.“That’s okay,” I said, punching in my credit card number and dialing Jane’s cell phone.Thankfully, she picked up.“Jane, it’s me.”“Where are you? I called the hotel an hour ago and they told me you checked out.”“I’m at the police station.”I heard her gasp
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