My frustration mounting, I packed up one of the boxes to go through with Inez, opened the window, and then dropped it outside. I threw a leg over the railing and climbed down, my breathing slow and even. I reachedthe ground with no issue and bent to retrieve the box. While carrying some of Lourdes’s things to the hotel, something niggled at the back of my mind. I could picture that room exactly as I found it, every item laid out before me.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
But my gut told me I had seen something and missed its significance entirely.
CAPÍTULO DIECINUEVE
We got straight to work upon reaching our hotel room. I resized all the items we’d taken from my mother’s home back into their regular proportions, and together with my sister, we laid everything out on the bed.
We made quite the team.
I rolled up my sleeves and gave everything a cursory glance. I refused to believe that there wasn’t something in this room that could help us find my mother. It was only a matter of studying each sheet carefully.
Or so I kept telling myself.
It occurred to me that we could potentially return to Mamá’s house and wait for her—but I recalled the way she had been warned away from the bank. Someone was watching our movements and my guess was it was her lover, or at the very least, he’d employed a thug to observe us. Best not to go back—unless we had no other options.
I sank onto a stretch of space on the bed that wasn’t covered by one of my mother’s things as Isadora scooted a stool closer to me. A knock sounded on the door and my eyes flew to hers in surprise.
Isadora jumped up, reaching for the gun she’d taken from the night of the auction. She’d hidden it under a pillow on her side of the bed.
“Who is it?” she asked.
“It’s me.”
My sister unlocked the door and swung it open, revealing a very dusty and disheveled Whit. He carried an enormous tray with him on one hand, laden with covered dishes, and a box filled with stacks of paper with the other.
“Is that…?”
“Yes.”
Somehow, he’d found more of my mother’s things. “How did you—”
“I’ll explain in a moment,” he grunted.
“I suppose you wouldn’t like me to shoot him?” Isadora asked in a wistful tone, stepping aside to let him through.
I stood, my nose picking up the scent of bread and lemon, fresh herbs. My mouth watered. “Not today.”
Whit scowled at Isadora as he walked past her. “No falafels for you.”
Isadora perked up. “Where did you find falafels at this time of night?”
“The kitchen in the hotel is well stocked,” he said. “I found hummus, tomatoes and cucumbers, bread, and a pitcher of lemonade. I also stopped by the front desk and checked for any messages and discovered a telegram for you, Olivera.”
“A telegram!” I exclaimed and held out my hand for it.
But he ignored me as he looked around for somewhere to set the tray, saw that every available surface was occupied, and then, shrugging, he dropped to his knees, gently placing the food and my mother’s things onto the carpeted floor. I settled next to him with an inelegant thud, while Isadora daintily picked up her skirt and gracefully sat, her knees bent, ankles crossed. She tugged the box toward her, curiously peering inside.
Finally, Whit dug into his pockets and handed me the sealed envelope. Eagerly, I opened it and read the first line. When I saw that it was addressed to the three of us, I switched to reading it out loud.
INEZ & CO—RECEIVED YOUR LETTER STOP RICARDO SAYS TO PLEASE ANSWER HIM WHEN HE CALLS OR HE WILL PERSONALLY FLOOD YOUR ROOM STOP
Whit covered his eyes with an exasperated groan, and I winced, my gaze automatically flickering to the cup on the nightstand. Mercifully, it was empty.
“Keep reading,” Isadora urged as she began filling up her plate.
My attention returned to the telegram, and I cleared my throat and began again.
