Shaman Winter by Rudolfo Anaya Page B

fireplace. The mayor had good taste, expensive taste.
    One corner contained an altar with the statue of la Virgen de Guadalupe, brightly decorated with lighted votive candles. Eloisa and Arturo had been praying for their daughter’s safe return.
    Eloisa Romero entered, and her husband introduced Sonny and Lorenza. If Consuelo bears any resemblance to her mother, Sonny thought, then she’s a beautiful girl. Even pale and drawn as Eloisa was from worry, her New Mexican beauty shone through. Sonny figured they were in their forties, and Arturo Romero had the Santa Fé business world by the tail, until yesterday.
    Eloisa greeted Sonny and Lorenza warmly and thanked them profusely for coming. It was clear she had been crying. When the greetings were over, they sat, and Sonny asked them to recount what had happened.
    Arturo took the initiative. “The parishioners from the Santuario put on Los Pastores every year. You know, the play of the shepherds going to the birth of Jesús. Consuelo was going to play the part of Gila, the shepherd girl. She went to the church to practice. There has been a rash of rape cases lately, so I stayed up. When I saw her car lights shine in the driveway, I went to bed. I thought she was home, safe—”
    â€œNothing like this has ever happened,” Eloisa interrupted. “We know everyone. Now this.” She touched the crumpled handkerchief to her eyes. Her husband reached out and held her hand.
    Sonny glanced at Lorenza. In the play Gila was a virgin on the way to the birth of Christ with other shepherds. Along the way the shepherds are tempted by Satan until St. Michael gets rid of the devil and the shepherds arrive in time to deliver humble gifts to the baby Jesús.
    â€œHad Consuelo been in the play before?” he asked.
    â€œNo,” Eloisa continued. “It was her first time. She’s wanted to play the part of Gila since she was a little girl. She had memorized her lines. She was so proud.”
    â€œDoesn’t one of the shepherds try to steal Gila?” Sonny asked.
    â€œYes, the hermit. He is tempted by the devil, and he thinks Gila loves him. When all are asleep, he tries to steal her, but she screams and awakens the other shepherds and they beat the hermit. He claims the devil made him do it.”
    â€œBut they continue to the birth of Christ.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œChrist is born, bringing a message of love to the world. The shepherds are there. One more dream of peace is born—”
    â€œI don’t understand,” Arturo said, puzzled.
    Consuelo was playing the role of Gila in Los Pastores , Sonny thought. The morality play had been brought by the Españoles to New Mexico and performed every Christmas since then. With Consuelo gone, there was no Gila to attend the birth of Jesús. Was there a pattern here?
    â€œTell me about your daughter.”
    Eloisa described her daughter. She was their only child, a junior at the Santa Fé Academy, straight-A student, loved by teachers and classmates. She was happy, planning for the play and Christmas, there was absolutely no reason why she would run away from home. No reason. Everyone at the church that night had been contacted by the police. They had last seen Consuelo leaving the church.
    â€œDo you have enemies?” Sonny asked, looking at Arturo.
    He shrugged. “I’m in politics, so one makes enemies. Those who really hate me are those who opposed my company creating the Romero Estates on the ski run road. The conservationists and water rights people fought tooth and nail to keep my company from developing the subdivision. Maybe since they couldn’t beat me in the courts, they took what is most precious in my life.”
    Sonny shook his head.
    â€œNo, I don’t want to believe it, either. But if you can find our daughter, you can name your price, Mr. Baca.”
    Unlike the last mayor, who kept a check on the developers who gobbled up land and