Emily Kimelman - Sydney Rye 03 - Insatiable Read Online Free PDF Page A

something.”
    Juanita led me down the hall back toward the main entrance and up the grand staircase that faced the front door. We went left and followed a carpeted hall past several rooms until we came to a door marked “STAY OUT!” We went in.
    There was no doubt that the owner of the room was a teenage girl. Her childhood and the beginning of her adult life clashed everywhere. Taped over the delicate pink rose wallpaper were posters of men just out of puberty wearing tight pants and scarves over bare, hairless chests. Small ceramic horses shared space on the mantel with a mess of earrings, necklaces and the occasional cosmetic. The girl’s bed, obviously made by a maid as no one going through such emotional upheaval could produce hospital corners like that, was covered in teddy bears.
    Juanita sat on the edge of the bed. “Maria is a modern woman. She believes that she is equal to men.”
    “Isn’t she?” I asked.
    Juanita pulled a pink bear over to her and looked into its empty plastic eyes. “Yes, of course, but most men don’t know it.” Pushing the bear aside she turned to look at me. “You know women are equal according to our laws, but in practice, they are not. When a woman is raped or murdered, it does not matter unless she has a wealthy, powerful family. Poor women in this country are treated as dogs.”
    “I know,” I said. Along the Mexican/American border, girls are murdered as if they were cattle. They are raped, mutilated, shot and then their bodies dumped on the road without even the barest of graves. The girls work at the many factories that line the border. Their killers are impossible to punish because he is not one man but an attitude. An attitude that it is OK for police, who are also the drug runners, to celebrate successful smuggling trips by killing women without connections or family. I knew a girl who died that way. Her killers suffered a similar fate… though I didn’t rape them.
    “Most women do know,” she said simply. “But my daughter does not understand. If I left Pedro it would not help anything. I would not be happier, he certainly would not, and my career…” she paused and her eyes shone brightly in that little girl’s room. “How can I be a mother to the state if I cannot even help my own daughter?” She looked away from me and her chin wrinkled.  
    She pulled herself together and continued, “This is one of the reasons she is mad, because she says I care more about my career than my family, but what she does not understand is that I am fighting for my family, not just for her, but for her daughters and their daughters. I am fighting for the daughters of Mexico.” It was a good line, one I guessed she used before.
    “Ana Maria is right in some ways,” she continued. “I am very afraid of what other people will think.” She let out a snort of a laugh. “That is why you are here as Melanie Franks and not whatever your real name is.” I smiled at the idea that I had a real name. “I don’t want anyone to find out that I have lost my daughter.”
    “Do you have any idea where she is?”
    Juanita looked up at me. “I think it is possible she is with her cousin Alejandro. We called him and he says she is not there, but he would happily lie for her.”
    “Where is Alejandro?”
    “In Playa del Carmen. He manages Pedro’s hotels on the Yucatan.” She smiled and it didn’t look like it was for joy.
    “Ana Maria and Alejandro are close?”
    “They have always cared for each other deeply. He is Pedro’s sister’s son.” She looked back over at the pile of teddy bears. “He is adopted.” She reached out and took another stuffed animal from the pile. This one was brown and raggedy. “We got her this in New York at FAO Schwartz. She was only eight, a little more than ten years ago. It is amazing the way things change so fast.” She pulled the bear closer to her and toyed with one of its little paws. “She rode on Pedro’s shoulders and she would cover