Sounds Of Silence. Elizabeth White

      “Not Mrs. Logan?”

      Isabel firmly shook her head.

      Danilo scrunched his face for a moment, then grinned. “Superheroes can’t tell anybody who they are. I like secrets.”

      Relief washed through Isabel. “That’s right. It’s a secret.”

      “Okay.” Danilo cut a Rico-like look at Isabel. “But can I at least pretend she’s my sister?”

      Pablo Medieros reracked the hundred-eighty-pound barbell he’d been bench-pressing and sat up to wipe his chest with a towel. In his opinion, the Piedras Negras Fitness Center was of barely acceptable standards, but it was the only private gym in town. His gaze touched the dusty windowsills and ceiling fans, the frayed carpet, the spiderwebs in the corners.

      When Governor Avila, his boss and first cousin, won reelection this fall, his first action would be attracting businesses to the depressed cities along the border. If he brought money here, civic improvements across the state would follow.

      Of course, in Pablo’s opinion, the legal route wasn’t always the most efficient. He didn’t much care which side of the law he stepped across; after all, legality was relative.

      Relative, as in family. Relative, too, depending on one’s perspective.

      Smiling at his own joke, Pablo walked to the locker room and extracted his cell phone from his gym bag. He punched numbers to check his messages.

      “Hey, Pablo,” came the rasping voice of Camino, one of his two employees. “We found a kid who saw the little girl you’re looking for, hiding out in the orphanage in St. Teresa Colony. I’d check it out for you, but the governor’s got me tied up with a trip to the States this week. Don’t know what you want her for, but—”

      The connection disintegrated, leaving Pablo scowling.

      What was the good of paying people to work for you, if they were always leaving town? On the other hand, if Avila was out of the way, Pablo would have time to do something about the mess that brat had caused.

      He still couldn’t believe he’d let her get away with the knife. Rage overtook him afresh, and he kicked the door of the closest locker. Scrawny little girl-child, worse than vermin. If only he’d caught her. He’d almost had her by the foot that night.

      Well, it would be easy enough to take care of her at the orphanage. He’d kept an ear to the ground via a buddy in the Acuña police department. If he could get to the girl before she turned the knife in, everything would still be all right.

      He calmed himself. He would take care of her.

      Mercedes stepped out of the bathtub and let the beautiful American señora—Isabel—wrap her in a big fluffy towel. With delight she curled her toes into the deep pile of the yellow rug as Isabel pulled a second towel from a cabinet under the sink, then began to briskly rub Mercedes’s hair.

      She had never seen a place this clean. She had never been this clean, head to toe, and she even had her own toothbrush with a cartoon character on the handle. Danilo had shared his toothpaste, and it tasted like bubble gum.

      Mercedes realized Isabel was talking to her, so she watched her lips but couldn’t quite figure out what she said. Lupe had taught Mercedes a lot of English words, but she was going to have to work hard to catch up. She didn’t want to miss anything Isabel said.

      Isabel suddenly smiled and drew her close, wet hair and all, and Mercedes leaned in to feel the pulse of laughter against her cheek. Then Isabel set her away a bit, both hands cupping Mercedes’s face, and said in careful Spanish, “I’m sorry, I forgot. Let’s find you some pajamas, then we’ll comb and dry your hair.”

      With the towel clutched around her, Mercedes followed Isabel into Danilo’s room and watched her dig through a small chest of drawers. Pulling out a pair of colorful briefs, Isabel frowned and glanced at Mercedes. “Boy pants,” she said with clear dissatisfaction. “We’ll ask Eli to bring you some things tomorrow.” Then she brightened. “I can make you a nightgown. With lace.” Her eyes sparkled as she made a fluttering motion with her fingers, girl to girl.

      Mercedes grinned and copied the gesture.

      Oh, God had sent her to a place of richness. She had been frightened when Eli put her in the little blue car and backed away, making it clear he wasn’t coming. But he’d said he would visit and bring her a doll. Mercedes didn’t care so much about a doll, but if it came with Eli, then everything would be all right.

      Isabel was engulfed by darkness. Standing high atop the apex of el puente negro, the old iron railroad bridge that arched across the Rio Grande, she knew that Piedras Negras lay to the south and Eagle Pass to the north. But with the city lights extinguished, she couldn’t tell up from down, right from left.

      Fear made her fingertips tingle and her stomach lurch. If she stepped an inch in any direction she would plunge into the black water. Nothing to break her fall.

      Then she saw a light, two lights approaching from the American side, swinging side-to-side as if looking for something. Rico. It had to be Rico and Jack, on patrol. Illegal aliens attempted to swim across here nearly every night.

      But it was late. Rico should have been home an hour ago. Anger replaced her fear. She opened her mouth to call out. If she could get Rico’s attention, he’d get her down, and they could go home. Danilo missed his daddy reading a bedtime comic book story.

      Her voice wouldn’t come out. Mute, she watched the lights reach the cane at the edge of the water.

      Suddenly the silence was broken by gunshots. Popping and pinging with obscene rhythm. Clang on metal, thud into wood. One of the lights collapsed, splintered by the cane, doused in the water.

      Isabel teetered on the bridge, unable to scream, terrified beyond expression. Sweat poured in streams between her breasts, soaking her nightgown, and tears dripped off her chin.

      Rico was gone. If she’d just been able to tell him one more time how much she loved him, maybe he would have come home on time.

      Baby, I’m sorry I was angry. I loved you so much.

      Now he would never come home, and she was going to have to stand on this bridge alone forever.

      She woke up with a start, covered in sweat.

      Eli bent down to ruffle the ears of Isabel’s dog as he walked up her front porch steps. He’d just gotten off duty and hadn’t even been home yet, but he had to find out if Mercedes had communicated anything to Isabel during the last two days.

      “Sit, Fonzie,” he said, snapping his fingers. The dog slurped Eli’s fingers one more time and obeyed, one eye cocked for potential treats. “Dude, you are no Lassie,” Eli told him as he knocked on the door.

      The relaxing of Isabel’s shoulders when she opened the door and scanned him from head to toe made him glad he’d changed into civilian clothes before walking down the street to her house.

      She smiled. “Eli. Hi, come in.” She looked beautiful as always, but there was a tired droop to her dark eyes.

      “Hope my timing’s not bad,” he said, stepping into the tiny foyer.

      “No, I’m just putting the kids to bed. Danilo’s in the tub.” She pushed a wavy lock of black hair behind her ear. “Did you come to check on Mercedes?”

      “Not really,” he replied, following her into the den. “I know you’re taking good care of her. I was just wondering how, uh, communication’s going.”

      “It’s amazing what you can do with hand motions.” Isabel hesitated. “Sit down, would you like something to drink?” she said in a rush as she headed for the kitchen.

      “No, thanks, I just ate supper.” Eli looked around and decided the leather recliner looked more comfortable than the sofa. He plopped into it with a sigh.

      Isabel