“I’m sorry,” said Elena. “I’ve been neglecting you, but so much has been happening.”
“Sit down, dear. Let me introduce you to this very nice man who’s having a cup of coffee with me.”
The very nice man stood and extended his hand to Elena. “Jorge Gomez,” he said and sat back down when Elena did.
At least he had decent manners although he had a gaunt look about him, like it had been a while since his last good meal. He might not be Honduran because he was tallish, maybe Spanish blood because his complexion was pale. He wore an open collared shirt with dark jacket and khaki pants. She wondered where Susanna had found him. Where did she find any of them?
“We were discussing the hurricane,” Susanna said. “It’s all anyone can talk about.”
“Right,” said Elena. “What are your plans? I’m afraid the airport in San Pedro Sula is closed, according to the newspaper. Maybe you could get a bus to Guatemala City and get a flight out there. That would be farther inland.”
“I’m not leaving, dear, unless you are.” She peered at Elena, eyebrows raised, as if to say, well are you?
“I’m not leaving. Things are too unsettled here.” She didn’t elaborate because of the stranger at the table.
“Then I stay, too. I’m not leaving you. But I thought, dear, that maybe you should move into the hotel with me. It is on higher ground than doña Carolita’s place, and it’s solidly built. The nice man at the front desk said that people hunker down here all the time during hurricanes. If I had to ride out a hurricane somewhere, it would be at the Marina Copan.”
“That’s a thought,” said Elena. “I’ll take it under advisement.” She smiled at her mother to let her know she was half serious at least.
The nice man at the table was lighting another cigarette. His fingers were stained with nicotine so he must have quite a habit. It made Elena want one, but she didn’t dare. She’d told her mother she’d quit.
“Don’t you want some coffee, dear? Have you had breakfast?”
“Actually, no I haven’t had breakfast and that might be a good idea, along with some coffee. I left in rather a hurry this morning and didn’t take the time.”
Jorge motioned to the waiter who arrived with coffee server in hand. He upended Elena’s cup and poured, then refilled Susanna’s and Jorge’s.
“Would you care for breakfast, señorita?”
“Sí, por favor, huevos rancheros con tortilla.”
“Gracias.” He left to place her order.
“How is your analysis of the Hieroglyphic Staircase coming, dear?” Susanna asked. She leaned toward Jorge. “My daughter is an epigrapher. That’s like an archaeologist. She’s here working on deciphering hieroglyphs at the ruins.”
“How interesting,” said Jorge. “I find the hieroglyphs intriguing.”
“What do you do? Are you in archaeology also?” asked Elena, curious as to what the man did for a livelihood and why he had the time for a late breakfast with a beautiful woman.
“No,” he said. “I deal in art and travel Latin America looking for exciting new artists. There is a small community of very good artists here that I like to check on from time to time. Sometimes I do shows for them.”
“Yes, dear, he does all kinds of art, like ceramics and folk art and fine art. He knows Josephina Aguilar. You know, that Mexican artist that does all those wonderful clay statues I like so much.”
“Yes,” said Elena. “Are you still collecting her?”
“Absolutely,” Susanna said. “Jorge was saying he would like to see my collection.”
Oh, brother, thought Elena. Who writes this guy’s material? She might have to move into the hotel with her mother to save her from herself.
Jorge stubbed out his never ending smoke. “I must be going. I have an appointment with one of my artist friends.” He reached over and shook Susanna’s hand. “I’m sure we’ll see each other before I leave. Maybe we’ll all be riding out the storm together at the bar of the hotel.”
Susanna smiled up at him and gave him a Scarlet O’Hara bat of the eyes. Elena wanted to roll her eyes, but restrained herself and exchanged the pleasantries necessary to see him off.
“Such a sweet man, don’t you think, dear?” asked Susanna. “So cultured and knowledgeable about art.”
“Really, Mother, wherever do you find these people?”
“He happened to be in the lobby when I came down and, I don’t know, I guess I smiled at him or something, and we started chitchatting. I can’t help that people find me attractive.”
She said it with a laugh, and Elena laughed along with her. She had to agree. People found her mother irresistible. That didn’t make it any easier being her daughter.
Breakfast arrived, and Elena dug in. Her mother prattled on about all the lovely people she had been meeting and how much she was enjoying her stay.
“Yesterday,” she said, “I went to the Macaw Bird Park. What a treasure. You wouldn’t believe all the birds. That was fascinating. I’m thinking I should get a macaw for a pet.”
“You don’t need a pet macaw, Mother.”
“Maybe not. I travel too much. I met a very nice woman who is here fundraising for the clinic, and she said she knows you and Dominic.”
Elena nearly choked on her food. Felicia. She was like an amoeba, spreading out everywhere.
Susanna continued. “She’s going to be riding out the hurricane here so we’ll probably see her. I can’t think of her name right now.”
“How fortunate.”
“She was with a very interesting man, Jack something. He’s in bananas.”
Elena laughed.
“That sounded funny, didn’t it,” Susanna said, laughing along. “He’s with one of the big fruit companies and comes here all the time. He’s some big wig. He seemed quite attached to her, and she to him, if you know what I mean.”
Elena changed the subject, not interested in pursuing that topic any further. “There’s a new police inspector, much more competent than Oliveros, so I’m hoping the murder gets resolved soon. Meanwhile, I’m not supposed to work at the ruins or at the Museum. The police have closed the entire Archeological Park, so I’m going to help Dominic at the clinic for the rest of the day. They need help with this storm coming in.”
“Yes, dear. Do help Dominic. Such a nice man.”
Elena kissed her mother. “Please stay put in the hotel today. Lounge by the pool. I know you won’t be at loss for someone to talk to. Just stay out of trouble, okay?”
“I should say the same thing for you.”
Fifteen
The clinic was a madhouse. People dropped in to discuss preparations for the storm. More than the usual number of ailments overwhelmed Corazón. The murder had taken a back burner with the new threat that affected everyone. Dominic prayed that the hurricane would weaken before it hit Copan Ruinas. He breathed a sigh of relief when Elena came waltzing into the clinic looking like she didn’t have a care in the world, hair flying in the breeze.
“Need help?” she said by way of greeting.
“I sure do. Nice to see you,” he said, smiling. “Could you keep an eye on Miguel for me? I think he’s getting bored. He’s sitting against the wall trying to work that Game Boy. We had a few donated for the kids that come in.”
“Sure, though Game Boy is not my strong suit. What will you do with the storm coming?”
“I’m afraid I’ll be working straight through. Do you think you can keep Miguel with you?”
“Sure. I might stay with my mother at the hotel. It’s supposed to be a fortress. I think I’ll take doña Carolita there, too.”