They followed him up the steep concrete stairs to the first floor. “The keys are in the lock. Shared bathroom at the end of the hall, showers, hot water.”
“Thank you.” Josie watched him as he walked down the stairs and once he had reached the bottom, she turned to Michael. “Did you hear that? We’ve been here all of ten minutes and already I have a lead. He recognized her, I know it.”
“Could be. I can’t believe how alike you look.”
“Yeah, everyone would always say that. I might clean up and then go around town, see if anyone recognizes her. It was so long ago, I know it’s a long shot. But it’s a start.”
Chapter Ten
Michael stood before the shelves at the convenience store, glancing over the limited range of items on sale. All the products were similar enough to give him a false sense of security, but different enough to not let him forget that he was far from home. Michael inspected a family size bag of chips, trying to decipher the flavor. Usually the pictures would give him a hint. Most of them seemed to have images of chilli’s on the front, or maybe peppers. Paprika maybe. He hedged his bets—his arms laden with bags of chips and candy bars as he approached the cash register. Why were there no baskets? He dumped his stash on the side next to Josie and went down the other side of the shop in search of beer. There was barely anything left in the small refrigerator that seemed to be held together with duct tape, so he picked up some dusty bottles off of the shelf, holding them close to his chest before going back to the cash register.
“Excuse me. Have you seen this girl around at all? At any time? Could have been months ago.” She slipped Tanya’s photograph across the counter and leaned forward expectantly. He considered she might have more luck if she didn’t get in the shopkeeper’s personal space.
The young woman looked at her blankly and Josie asked her again. “Has visto a esta chica?”
The cashier took the picture from Josie, glanced at it. “Mmm, no.” She shrugged, slid the photo back across the counter and started bagging up Michael’s shopping in reused plastic bags.
Josie waited before she was outside the store before she spoke. “Well that was a bust. I’m going to ask the churro guy,” she said, looking defeated already. Michael believed that the odds of finding out anything were slim to none, and he hoped that she had actually considered that outcome. At least she would have done everything she could, and hopefully, that would bring her some closure. They dodged a puddle from the previous night’s rain and approached the street vendor.
“Hola. Puedo teines cinco churros, por favor,” he said slowly, trying to enunciate every syllable. To his surprise, the vendor seemed to understand what he had said and put the sugary sticks of dough into a paper-bag. Michael’s mouth was already watering, and he stood by and let Josie do her thing.
“Has visto a esta chica?” She held up the picture.
“Ha ha. Yes. She come every night. We have drinks one time. She love to party that one.” A spark fired up in his eyes.
“Oh my god. Are you sure? It would have been a while ago now.” She was talking with her whole body now.
“Yes. One year. I know. It was Cinco de Mayo. We party all night. Shots. Dancing. She never call me. How is she?”
“I don’t know. She went missing. Desaparecida.” She said, gesticulating as if she was trying to act out the word.
The man’s face dropped like a man that had just found out his wife of 50 years had died. “No, no, no.” He abruptly came around from his cart and gave Josie a hug. She stiffened up awkwardly at first, but then leaned into it.
After the hug had gone on one second too long, she pulled away. “Well we have to go. Ask around town. What is your name?”
“Luis.” He went in for another hug. “You let me know if you find her. You’re staying across the road right?”
“Yeah, I’ll let you know.” As Josie whisked Michael down the street she talked in a stream of consciousness. “Now I know we’re onto something. He knew her. The hotel guy recognized her. I could see it in his eyes. They all seem to know her. It’s crazy.”
“Just don’t get your hopes up.” He hesitated before continuing. “Keep your expectations realistic.” It only just occurred to Michael that he had left the stall without his churros despite having paid for them.
“I just feel like, if the police had done this when it happened, it would be fresh in everyone’s mind, and now… it’s probably too late. Well, too late or not. It won’t stop me.” With a straight face, and her arms swinging at her sides—she looked like a girl on a mission. “If anyone would remember her, it would be here, right?” She stopped on the corner where the two roads converged in front of a bar. La Cocina de Maya. “That guy said they had drinks. Maybe they had them here. I should have asked. I’m such an amateur at this.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you paid him another visit.” Michael tried to wink suggestively, but instead, looked like he was having a stroke.
Josie stood in front of the door to the bar. “Let’s go in. I’m starving anyway, and I’m sure you could use a drink. It’s already gone midday.” She consulted her watch.
The light of the sun disappeared as they entered, and the other customers turned to look at them as soon as they were aware of their presence. They eventually turned their attention away and went back to cradling their drinks and chatting amongst themselves in Spanish. The smell of food and stale beer wafted around the stuffy bar. The breeze from earlier
