“Where’s Alejandro?” Oscar muttered, turning on his heel and heading for the door without another word.

At three thirty, Oscar pulled Alejandro into the narrow, dim corridor outside the law firm’s private suite down the avenue.

Alejandro was adjusting his gold watch strap, a confident, careless smile still on his face.

“What was so urgent that you pulled me away from lunch, Oscar?” Alejandro asked, leaning back against the mahogany wall paneling.

“Mother’s expecting me at the club in Zapopan to approve the flower arrangements for Easter Sunday.”

Oscar slammed the heavy fire door shut behind them and held up the open cream envelope.