Red, white and green crepe paper streamers hanging from the ceiling waved in their wake as the waitress wearing a blouse with a Mayan motif showed Mara to the table where Sam and Ping already sat snacking on a basket of tortilla chips.
“So did you guys have a nice weekend on the mountain? I saw on the news that there was some snow, so you got to see the real thing,” she said. She snagged a chip.
“It was great. Next time I want to snowboard,” Sam said with his mouth half full.
Ping handed him a napkin and rolled his eyes. “Perhaps we should talk to Mrs. Zimmerman about giving you some instructions on etiquette.”
“Eti-what?” He had yet to swallow.
Mara smiled. They were an odd pair. “I talked to Carol Sandoval. She thinks Suter is out to get us on the passenger disappearances.”
“That’s
