“I will,” Samuel said.

“Where are you going now?”

I stood up and smoothed the skirt of my linen dress.

“Back to Zapopan, before Doña Victoria notices the garage door is open,” I said.

The afternoon sun hit the glass front of the downtown coffee shop on Third Street as I stepped off the bottom step of the archive building.

A black luxury sedan pulled up to the curb six feet away, its tires scraping hard against the concrete.

Alejandro got out of the front passenger door while Oscar Garza climbed out of the back, holding a heavy leather accordion file.