“Sí, señora. Con muchas gracias.”
Elena sat at the table and buttered a homemade tortilla, her favorite way of consuming that delectable staple. Doña Carolita hummed as she worked. Flaco took no time to converse. He was too busy eating.
The coziness of the setting brought back memories to Elena of childhood summers spent in Mexico with her cousins in the small town of San Miguel de Allende, north of Mexico City, where her father had family. One of her favorite pastimes with her cousins was eating tortillas right at the tortilla maker’s stall as they came out of the oven.
“Now then,” said doña Carolita, as they sat down to a breakfast of huevos rancheros picante, tortillas, beans, and rice, “tell me what brings you here, young man, so early in the morning. Or is it a secret?”
Flaco looked at Elena as if for a sign about what he should say.
“Forgive me, doña Carolita, I forgot to introduce you,” said Elena. “This is my friend, Flaco.”
“Flaco, is it?” she said. “A name well chosen.” She looked him over and nodded solemnly. “Surely you were given a Christian name. What would that be, young man?”
Flaco bowed his head over his food. “I do not remember, señora. Always I have had the name Flaco. That is what everyone calls me.”
Carolita wrinkled her short, flat nose and pursed her lips in exaggeration. “Then I shall give you a Christian name. I will call you, Miguel, for the Archangel Miguel, who is my favorite of all the angels. He will protect you and bring good fortune into your life.”
Flaco’s sad eyes brightened. “Ay, señora, gracias. You are very kind. Never have I had such a name.”
“Then,” said Elena, “we shall call you Miguel from now on.”
“Gracias a Dios,” said doña Carolita. “It is a good name and fits such a young man as you.”
“Miguel came to see me on a grave matter,” said Elena. “It has to do with the murder. He is afraid to go to the police who want to talk to him.”
Doña Carolita finished eating and pushed her plate away. “Are you the little boy who came for Dr. Hidalgo?”
“Sí, señora.”
“You did a good thing, Miguel. You may have information that might help the inspector. Perhaps you should consider talking with him. After we clean you up and find you some better clothes to wear, maybe doctora Palomares will accompany you to talk to the inspector.”
Miguel looked to Elena, who nodded her head and said, “I would be pleased to go with you. The inspector is anxious to have any information so he can solve this most unfortunate murder. You could be a great help.”
“But what about that man?” asked Miguel. “He said he’d kill me.”
“He said that?” asked Elena.
Miguel nodded his head. “He shouted when I ran that he would kill me if I went to the police.”
“He was trying to scare you,” said Elena. And did a good job of it. It angered her that a grown man, albeit a bad man, would do such a thing to a mere child. “Don’t mind what he says. We won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Well, Miguel,” said doña Carolita, “I’m going to find you more suitable clothing, and Elena can help you with a bath.” She looked out the window. “It’s getting light outside. Soon the sun will be up. Off with you now.”
Elena led Miguel to the bathroom. “Take off your clothes, and I’ll help you get the water adjusted. Here’s a fresh towel.”
Puzzled, Miguel looked back and forth between the shower and the towel and Elena’s face. “You expect me to get in with the water running and no clothes?”
Elena had to laugh when she saw the look on his face. “Sí, it will feel good.”
“But I don’t like waterfalls very much. Couldn’t I just use water from the bowl?”
Elena considered his request. She had never met anyone who didn’t like a shower. “I will make the water a trickle. You just step in and rinse, then soap all over, then rinse again. It’s easy.”
Miguel looked dubious, but his options were limited.
“Throw your clothes outside the door. We’ll find clean clothes to wear to the police station. You want to look your best, don’t you?”
He nodded but he didn’t look like he was convinced he needed to do any of this.
Elena smiled and left him to his privacy while she went to her room to try a phone call on Skype.
This time the site was up, and she input the number of Dr. Roulade’s home. The phone rang and rang. It was early, and Elena felt sure she would get the woman out of bed. But nothing. No one answered, not even a machine. She’d try the department office later in the morning.
She applied make-up and brushed out her hair, thinking through what she would do this morning. For starters she’d take Miguel to see inspector Oliveros and have a serious talk with the insufferable man.
Doña Carolita brought in an outfit she acquired from the next door neighbor who had four sons of her own. “Here’s a t-shirt that should fit and a pair of long trousers. I don’t know how long these will last with the life he leads, but at least he has something presentable to wear to see the inspector.”
They heard him shouting from the bathroom. “Ahora que? What now? I am clean but I have no clothes. Where are my clothes?”
The two women looked at each other and smiled.
“I’ll give him these,” said doña Carolita. “Would you see to the front door since you’re dressed? The bell is ringing. I don’t know who it could be at this hour.”
Elena glanced at the clock. It was almost six, early for callers. She hoped it didn’t have to do with murder. She walked to the front door and peeked out the side window.
It was Dominic.
A smile tugged the corners of her mouth. She was glad to see him. She hoped he wasn’t angry about her unsocial behavior last night.
“Hi,” he said. He stood unsmiling, his fists stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. “I wanted to apologize first thing for last night. I couldn’t sleep thinking about what the inspector said. And I’m sorry you had to find out what he said from Felicia. She’s only an acquaintance, but she delights in gossip. I hope you slept all right. You’ve been through a lot, and I was worried about you.” He rushed the words like he wasn’t sure of her reaction but wanted to get his speech finished before she could speak.
Elena hadn’t expected an apology. After the few seconds it took to recover from her surprise, she said, “I’m sorry, too, for walking off like that. I’m not sure what to do about Oliveros and his accusations, but I’m going to confront him for a start.”
“I’m with you. We’ll confront him together.”
“Thanks.” She offered an encouraging smile. “Won’t you come in?”
“I’d better get to the clinic. I just wanted to apologize and hoped you weren’t still mad. I’m sorry to disturb you so early.”
“I’m not mad, not at you.” She reached out and pulled on his arm. “Come in for a minute. We have fresh coffee brewing. I want you to meet Miguel.”
“Miguel?”
She nodded. “Come in.” She led the way into the kitchen where doña Carolita was grinding coffee beans to make a fresh pot.
“Please sit down, padre,” said Carolita, like she wasn’t at all surprised to see him.
Elena started at her use of padre. But, she guessed, that would have been the appropriate title in Dominic’s former calling.
Dominic was studying the boy standing by the table. He wore a clean white t-shirt and long brown pants. His black hair was smoothed back, wet from the shower with a sprig of hair that stood straight up in the back.