Sweetheart Deal by Linda Joffe Hull Page B

“Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.”
    We got up and followed the sign to a hallway in the back of the cantina, but instead of an interior bathroom along the back wall, we proceeded through a door and found ourselves in an interior courtyard overlooked by three or four stories of apartments.
    â€œThis is kinda weird,” Eloise said as we followed yet another sign to a small freestanding building that housed both men’s and women’s rooms that were apparently shared by a number of the local storefronts.
    Ignoring the dripping sink, the hum of an automatic hand dryer stuck on low, and a not-quite -fresh odor that bode poorly for the condition of the stalls themselves, we each set about doing our business. I was finished and unlocking the stall latch with a tissue from my pocket when a flash of red once again caught my eye.
    I opened the door to Sombrero Lady standing in front of the sink. Facing me.
    â€œ Hola ,” I said, somewhat startled.
    â€œ Hola ,” she said in return, but with a seeming sense of urgency.
    Unlike my boys, I’d taken French in school and basically only knew how to say hello, good-bye , and order to my heart’s content off a menu in a Mexican restaurant. Everything else required assistance from cue cards, a member of the camera crew, or a dictionary.
    â€œWe’re already done for today,” I said, far too slowly and loudly, making a motion like I was operating an old-time camera. “Um, finito … ?”
    She shook her head. “ No finito.”
    â€œI’m glad to buy some of your sombreros,” I said, wondering just what it was she wanted. “ Cuanto sombreros? ”
    â€œNo,” she said definitively. “Big problemo .”
    â€œSorry?” I said. “My español is no bueno .”
    She motioned me closer, then whispered in my ear, “Alejandro.”
    â€œAlej—?” I started to say, then stopped as Eloise emerged from her stall.
    â€œEverything okay?” she asked.
    â€œFine,” I said.
    The woman shook her head as Eloise started for the sink.
    â€œWhat?” I managed.
    â€œ Fue asesinado ,” she said, starting for the door. “ Fue asesinado! ” And then she disappeared as quickly as she’d appeared.
    â€œWhat was that all about?” Eloise asked.
    â€œShe was looking to get on camera,” I said, unsure exactly what the woman had said but sure Eloise, who’d barely gotten a C in high school Spanish, would have no idea what the words meant. “And some money for the stuff she’s peddling.”
    â€œOh,” Eloise said, rubbing her hands under the ineffective hand dryer. “I mean, I love it down here and everything, but you have to admit, it really is different.”
    â€œNo question,” I said, washing my hands and pulling my smart phone out of my purse. Pretending to check for messages, I consulted the Spanish/English translation app I’d installed on my phone before the trip and keyed in my best guess for her words. A few tries led me to a rough translation:
    He was murdered .
    21. Rice fell out of favor when it was erroneously rumored that if birds ate the rice, it would expand in their stomach and kill them. Given the fact that birds eat dried rice, corn, and other grains from fields all the time, this turns out to be an urban myth.

nine
    â€œI could really use a cup of coffee,” I said the moment we arrived back at the hotel. It was the only thing I’d said during the ride back from town. “Care to join me, Frank?”
    Without waiting for his answer, I grabbed his hand and led him toward the kiosk in the middle of the lobby. I took the liberty of ordering us each a café con crema, accepted both cups from the barista, and led us over to a table and chairs. Specifically, a secluded table where no one was close enough to eavesdrop.
    â€œListen,” I said, “I’ve been through far too much from you to put up