To the right, a maze of overhead pipes supported garments in the process of being pressed. There were ten women within my visual range, most of them Hispanic, working machines whose function one could only guess. A radio had been tuned to a Spanish-language station that was blasting out an up-tempo cut from a Linda Ronstadt album. Two of the women sang as they worked, moving men's shirts expertly across the machines in front of them. With the syncopated rhythm of the irons, the shirt machines, the clouds of billowing steam, the place looked like the perfect setting for a musical number.

One of the two singing women finally noticed me. She left her machine and came over to the counter where I was waiting. She was short and compact, with a round face, eyes the color of chocolate M&M's, and coarse dark hair pulled into a snood. The loose gold satin blouse she wore was sprinkled with sequins. She glanced at the bouquet. "Those for me?"

I checked the attached florist's card. "Are you Bibianna Diaz?"

"Nah. She's off this week."

"She won't be in at all?"

The woman shook her head. "She hurt her back in this accident... mmm, about two months ago, and it's still botherin' her. The pain flares up, she says, real bad. She can't hardly walk. Boss told her, no way, don't come in. He don't want no kind of lawsuit. She got a boyfriend?"

I turned the card over, holding it up to the light. "Looks like a get-well card, actually. Shoot. Now what am I supposed to do?"

"Take 'em to her house," she said.

"I can't. This is the only address he gave. You don't happen to have her home address, do you?"

"Nah. I never been there myself," the woman said. She turned to one of the other women. "Hey, Lupe. Where's Bibianna live?"

The second woman shook her head, but a third piped up. "On Castano. I don't know the number, but it's this big brown house in front and her place in back. She's got this little bungalow. Real cute. Between Huerto and Arroyo."

The woman at the counter turned back to me. "You know the block she's talkin' about?"

"I'll find it," I said. "Thanks. You've been a big help."

"I'm Graciela. Tell the guy to look me up he gets tired of her. I got all the same equipment, just arranged different."

I smiled. "I'll do that."