Her place smelled like a dinner party—as if she’d made canapés—and of the hot shortening and flour for pastry foods.

A television vibrated with a man singing “La Tremenda.”

The window fans made everything that was loose swing or flutter.

“Grab a beer,” Jewels said. Her accent was all Texas and her voice had rust in its depths.

“We gotta yell over the fans but I never did believe in air conditioning. You know? I think sweating’s good for your pores—sweat awl the time and stay youthful. You wanna have dinner with me, sweets?”

“No thanks,” I said, but accepted the lo-cal beer she passed to me.

I watched her fill a brown-freckled tortilla with beans and rice and green chili picante.

“Raymond didn’t really explain why I was supposed to come here,” I said. “I’m hunting for my husband. Maybe you know that already.”

“How do you smoke and keep your skin so smooth?” she asked.

Over her head hung a door-sized Fuelex poster that showed a growling wolf, “HI OCTANE 93,” the poster said.

She said, “You belong to Raf, I know.”

Now she lay back on a couch the color of papaya.

On an end table, rows of giant novena candles squatted in glass containers big as thermos jugs. One black holder had a cobra on its side. Another was printed with “Iglesia Bisettra!” and the letters dripped blood. Others were painted with little portraits or figures of saints.

Jewels’s bathroom door wore a wood cemetery cross that was wired around with fabric flowers, white and hot pink.

She swirled beer in her cheeks as if using mouthwash. She swallowed and said, “Raymond has gotten so damned keerful. I miss the old Raymond, isn’t that terrible? When he drank? But I do. I almost wish he’d have a slip. These are strange times.”

“What’s Raymond being careful about?” I asked. “Do you know where my husband is?”

“I sorta do. He’s with Julio. Julio’s mine. He’s a wonderful man.”

“But do you know where Julio is either?”

“I sorta do,” Jewels said. “He’s with my sister. Raf and him’re both with my sister Reba. Me and Reba are hairdressers for Nicole Roccio? You know Nicole’s. They’re all over town.”

“I just got here,” I said.

“We do that and help out our daddy some. Our daddy owns that bar downstairs you probably seen.”

She said, “You look like you’re gonna scream, Mrs. Deveaux.”

“Paige,” I said. “I need to find Raf. And this reminds me of those nightmares when you’re moving in slow motion. Please go on. You were saying about Reba? Your husband, Julio?”

Jewels smiled and waved off the smoke from my cigarette, which was unnecessary. Her fans were pushing such a current her blond hair blew on end.