“No.”
“Which places have you visited?”
“Along this coast? Puerto Vallarta and Acapulco.”
She remembered him saying he’d taken a backpacking trip through Mexico when he was twenty. “Where else?”
He shrugged. “I’ve been all over. Baja California, Oaxaca, Yucatán.”
Her chest tightened with longing. He’d seen more of her country than she had. “I went to Acapulco once on a student trip. The ocean felt like a bathtub.”
“You went…once?”
“Yes. I would like to swim in the ocean again someday.”
“You didn’t swim in TJ?”
“No.”
He studied her with interest. “It doesn’t feel like a bathtub there, or in San Diego.”
“It’s colder?”
“Way colder.”
“Which do you prefer?”
“Warm is nice, but I’d say cold, especially in summer. It makes you feel alive.”
She wondered if she’d ever experience that sensation. The thought of missing out on it, and so many other things, brought tears to her eyes. She took a deep breath, blinking them away. After they arrived at the cargo station, Ian paid the taxi driver to wait. They entered the nearby camp with caution. After two close calls with la migra and the federal police, they couldn’t afford to be careless.
She still had a photo of Hugo in her bag. The health office was closed, so she approached a group of male passengers with his picture. They hadn’t seen him, but they’d only just arrived. There was a woman at the edge of the camp who offered laundry services. She had a barrel of hot water and a washboard. She didn’t stand up or dry her hands when Maria approached her. Still scrubbing, she took a quick glance at Hugo’s photo.
“He had a black eye,” Maria said.
The woman paused, as if this detail jogged her memory. “He was here with a girl.”
“A girl? Are you sure?”
“Yes, a girl. Short hair, curly. I washed her clothes. They smelled very bad.” She waved her hand in front of her nose.
Maria gave Ian a startled look. He dug out a photo of Sarai. “Was this her?”
“Maybe.”
“Can you describe the clothes?”
“Black hooded sweatshirt and men’s jeans. Both much too large for her.”
“They were together?”
“Yes.”
Maria couldn’t believe her brother was traveling with Sarai. But she supposed it made sense. They were both alone and vulnerable. After getting robbed, he might have been wary of other male passengers. “When did they leave?”
“Yesterday.”
Maria thanked the woman profusely, excited by the news. Ian didn’t appear happy in the least. He took her photo of Hugo and tucked it into his pocket, along with the picture of Sarai. Maria hurried to keep up with him as he walked back to the cab. Although she wanted to accompany him to Hermosillo, she didn’t mention it. He wasn’t in the mood to listen.
They rode to the bus station in uncomfortable silence. He slouched in his seat and drummed his fingertips against his thigh, continually scanning the traffic. As they arrived at the station, she spotted a group of police vehicles parked out front.
“Don’t stop,” he told the cab driver in Spanish.
“Where to, se?or?”
“Just keep going.” Staying low, he glanced out the rear window to make sure they weren’t being followed. “I need to catch a bus to Hermosillo without buying a ticket at the bus station. I’ll pay extra for the inconvenience.”
“No problem,” the cab driver said.
“You can arrange it?”
“There is nothing to arrange. The first-class bus stops at La Perla Hotel on the way out of town. You can board there and pay in cash.”
“What time?”
“Every two hours.”
Ian nodded, dragging a hand down his face. He looked the way she’d felt during the plane ride. She wondered if he was sweating over the fact that the police had arrived shortly after he’d called to check in with his boss again.
La Perla Hotel was a sprawling estate with a golf course, cabanas, and a private beach. The driver took them past the main entrance and stopped beneath an arched throughway. He dropped them off in front of a sign that said HERMOSILLO. An older couple waited on a stone bench nearby with their luggage. They were wearing casual clothes and diamond accessories.
“You don’t fit in here,” Maria said.
“Neither do you.”
She spotted a service entrance and tugged him toward it. “I have an idea.”
The door led to a maze of narrow hallways. She’d worked at a resort before, so she was familiar with the daily operations of a large hotel. After a few wrong turns, she found a huge laundry room. There were two maids inside, both teenagers.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” Maria said. “The airline lost our luggage, and we need some clothes to wear to dinner tonight. Do you have anything that another guest left behind? A shirt or jacket, long forgotten?”
The girls looked at Ian and giggled. “Sure,” one of the maids said. She opened a closet in the back of the room and rifled through the contents. There was a pinstriped shirt for Ian and a black sequined shawl for Maria. Both items looked expensive and well made. Maria gave the girls a few dollars for their trouble. She wrapped the shawl around her shoulders while Ian tried on the shirt. He had to remove his T-shirt first, revealing his gun holster and bare chest. The maids gaped at him in awe. Maria moved to stand in front of him.
“Protecting my modesty?” he asked as he buttoned up.
“Someone should.”