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and he escorted me up a flight of stairs, pausing outside the door to the guest room.
    “She’s a lovely woman,” I said.
    “Maria Elena?”
    “Yes. She was a wonderful help translating what the police were saying.”
    “Lucky for all of us. My Spanish is limited, although Olga and I are taking a class at the Instituto Allende.”
    “She’s a terrific cook, too. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until she brought in—what were they exactly? They were wonderful.”
    “Those were empanadas, Jessica. My favorite. I can eat them by the dozen.”
    “I think they’ll become my favorite, too.”
    “I’ll bet they tasted even better now that you know you’ll be around to eat them again.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Kidding aside, Jessica, are you all right? That was a traumatic experience you had this evening.”
    “I’m fine, Vaughan.”
    “I know you’ve been in a lot of scrapes over the years, but this . . .”
    “I promise you, I’m perfectly well. Now, tell me, how did you meet Maria Elena? From what I understood, you’re only here a short time, and you don’t stay for very long when you are.”
    “Her brother Hector helped us with the renovations. He said his sister was a recent widow and was looking for work. We were lucky when she agreed to live here full-time. We told her to make the house her own when we’re away, entertain if she wants, just enjoy the amenities. I have a wonderful media room, complete with satellite TV, computer hookup, and a multimedia surround-sound system.”
    “You do?”
    Vaughan laughed. “I’m an electronics buff. It’s a passion of mine.” I must have looked surprised because he added, “Never knew that about me, did you?”
    “I had no idea.”
    “I can’t be an effete snob all the time, Jessica. I have to do something manly every now and then. I installed most of the equipment myself, with a little help from a fellow I met here, Eric Gewirtz. He’s a computer expert, down with his family for the summer. Nice guy. Really knows his stuff. Would you like to see the room? It’s just down the hall.”
    “Of course I would. This is a part of your personality you’ve been keeping secret from me. What does Olga think of your passion?”
    “She’s been tolerating it for years, but while our apartment at the Dakota has thick walls, it isn’t soundproofed.” Vaughan ushered me inside a large room and closed a padded door behind us. “Welcome to my playroom. That’s what Olga calls it. It’s an apt name. I can tinker with my toys and play my music any time of the day or night without disturbing the neighbors, or my wife.”
    “It’s impressive,” I said, turning in a circle to take in Vaughan’s installation. One wall was floor-to-ceiling wall-to-wall cabinetry in three parts. The center section was composed of several panels of beautiful wood doors. Flanking them were exposed shelves neatly filled with compact disks, DVDs, videotapes, and of course books. Two columns of shelves held stacks of black equipment behind dark glass.
    Vaughan patted the closed doors. “I had them use cocobolo for the cabinets. It’s Mexican lumber similar to rosewood. I’ve tried to use native materials wherever I could. Since we’re taking advantage of the Mexican economy, I figured I should contribute to it as well.”
    “Very admirable,” I said.
    “Come sit. I’ll show you how everything works.”
    Vaughan led me to a long sectional sofa facing the shelves. Made of soft gray suede, it ran the entire wall, ending on one side in a chaise longue. Two large ottomans pushed together doubled as a cocktail table and held a silver tray containing half a dozen remote control devices. The wall opposite the door was draped in black velvet.
    The décor was decidedly masculine, but I could see Olga’s touches in the colorful pillows that were piled up on the chaise and scattered along the back of the sofa, and in the wildly patterned rug that sat atop the gray