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the same qualities in Officer Cortez. Heroic job, athletic physique, rugged good looks. He appeared to respect his mother and love his sister.
    She named the price, and he took a wallet out of his front pocket. It was black leather, like his belt, embossed with an eagle. He placed two crisp bills in her upturned palm and she processed the transaction, watching him put the change away. His hands looked strong. She wondered how they would feel against her skin: callused or smooth, rough or gentle.
    Blushing, she pushed the gift bag across the counter. “Have a nice day.”
    He picked it up, glancing around the store. She thought he might ask her another question about the figurines, but he didn’t. “You too,” he said, putting hissunglasses back on. Carrying the package under one arm like a football, he left.
    Kari wasn’t sorry to see him go. At any other time, she’d have enjoyed the attention of a good-looking guy. Right now Cortez was a dangerous distraction. She couldn’t afford to keep company with a border protection officer.
    Her sister’s life was in danger.
    When her pulse slowed and her breathing returned to normal, she picked up the phone to call Sasha.
    Maria entered the hotel’s front lobby, studying her surroundings while the receptionist gave a key card to an amorous couple.
    The man palmed the woman’s backside, giving it a firm squeeze.
    Cheaters , she guessed, dropping her gaze. Only newlyweds and teenagers groped each other in public like that. But these two weren’t young, and this place was no honeymoon getaway.
    The Hotel del Oro had “good bones,” she believed the term was in English. It was Spanish-style colonial with an open courtyard and stucco exterior. The exposed beams and arched entryways were a nice touch, but there were also signs of corruption and disrepair: chipped paint, broken tiles, outdated light fixtures.
    Maria felt right at home. She’d worked in hotels like this before.
    After the couple paid for their room—by the hour, she noted with an inward shudder—Maria stepped up to the front desk.
    “Can I help you?” the receptionist asked in Spanish, abored look in her eyes. She was young and pretty and glamorous, trapped in an easy, dead-end job she felt was beneath her. Maria imagined that she wanted more from life. Her name tag said Sonia.
    “I’m Maria, the new maid.”
    “We’re not hiring.”
    “I spoke with Señor Pena yesterday,” she explained. “He told me to come in.”
    Sonia gave Maria another once-over, her smooth brow furrowing. Maria got the impression that she was summing up the female competition. Perhaps she was Pena’s girlfriend. Maria slouched a little, trying to look unattractive. Dismissing her as a threat, Sonia picked up the phone to check out her story.
    Maria relaxed a little, glad for the “disguise.” This receptionist might have turned her out on her ear had she looked halfway decent, and Maria needed this job. Kari seemed to think she could convince her sister to leave Carlos Moreno, but Maria was skeptical. She had a backup plan—to collect dirt on Moreno’s men. They didn’t know she understood English. Maybe, while she was cleaning up after them, something would slip.
    At the very least, she could earn money to send home.
    Sonia hung up the phone and busied herself with paperwork, not bothering to tell Maria her fate. After a few moments, an older woman in a blue smock appeared. She had sturdy black shoes, a round face, and graying hair.
    Maria stepped forward to introduce herself.
    The head housekeeper, Irma, was no friendlier than the receptionist. Ignoring Maria’s greeting, she led her away from the lobby to a laundry room that was overflowing with sheets and towels.
    Irma handed Maria a uniform shirt, gave her a supply cart, and took her up to the second floor. Then she lit a cigarette, gesturing for Maria to get started. “You’ve worked in a hotel before?” she asked in Spanish.
    Maria nodded, her arms full of