Vengeance of the Vanished Ones (Dr. Marcos Andersson Mysteries Book 1)

Ancient rock art. Unexplained deaths. A mystery that reaches beyond the grave.

Archaeologist Dr. Marcos Andersson has spent decades searching for the meaning behind the mysterious ancient rock art scattered across Baja. When renowned archaeologist Davis Pearce dies under unexplained circumstances at one of the sites, Marcos begins to suspect the carvings conceal something far more dangerous than an archaeological secret. His investigation draws him into a world of vengeful spirits, hidden mineral interests, and unsettling encounters where the boundary between the living and the dead begins to disappear. With psychiatrist and psychic Dr. Susan Cohen at his side, Marcos follows the clues across Baja’s haunting desert landscapes while confronting secrets of their own—and an unexpected attraction neither can ignore. Blending archaeological adventure, mystery, romance, and supernatural suspense, Vengeance of the Vanished Ones is the first book in Lee Orlich Bertram’s Dr. Marcos Andersson Mysteries series.

Discover the secrets hidden in the stones in Vengeance of the Vanished Ones.

Excerpt from the book

In a ramshackle, Army transport DC-3 miles above the magnificent, Guatemalan rainforest, the idea dawned on archaeologist Dr. Marcos Andersson—he should not equate looking with seeing. Immersed in thoughts about the enigmatic meaning of the mysterious, ancient cave paintings of Baja California, he craned his neck to peer through a bulged window at the landscape below. He softly grumbled, “Oh, what the hell.” The meaning had eluded him for over two decades. Perhaps Baja would reveal yet new answers this time when Marcos concluded his business in Guatemala. Sitting back, he was fairly bolstered by the thought in a few more days he would rejoin Susan there.

Marcos stretched his six-foot, five-inch frame deplaning in Flores, towering at least a head and a half above his old friend and guide, Oscar Williams. Oscar greeted him enthusiastically with open arms at the end of the timeworn runway. Planting his size fourteen boots in the dirt to steady himself after the turbulent flight, Marcos felt the suffocating, moist heat instantaneously cling to every inch of him. He removed his stylish outback hat and ran his fingers through his wavy mop of matted, dark auburn hair, with hints of gray at the temples. His rumpled safari suit hung loosely, splotched with patches of sweat. Marcos thanked Oscar for the cold bottle of water he tossed his way, gulping some down and pouring the rest over his face and head.

Perched on the edge of the jungle, Flores offered the perfect entrée. Traveling over deep ruts full of thick, viscous mud, Marcos and Oscar drove as deep into the jungle as the road allowed in Oscar’s beat-up Land Rover. They parked the vehicle at a small Maya village comprising a dozen thatched huts with rounded ends, the style unchanged in a thousand years. As was their habit, they greeted the villagers before they took off on foot with their sharpened machetes, necessary to hack their way through and defend themselves against the jungle’s vegetation.

“Where are we heading this time, Oscar?” Marcos cringed inside. He already knew the answer.

Oscar, reasonably proficient in English, smiled and pointed forward. “Trust me,” he said, laughing.

“Don’t I always?” Marcos said as he brushed a solid snarl of mosquitoes away from his face. Having learned his lesson the hard way on previous expeditions, he tenaciously scanned for deadly insects and snakes above and below as they slashed their way through the unrelenting flora, grunts and groans passing between the two men as their only conversation. The intense February heat and rain of the verano season brutally assaulted their senses. Thick, oozing mud threatened to swallow Marcos’ boots with each step.

After several hours and much to Marcos’ relief, Oscar signaled a rest. Gingerly laying down his machete on the jungle floor, Marcos said, “Thanks, man. I thought you were going to march me to death.”