She turned to see how many boxes Margo selected. But her roommate glanced back and shook her head, then out loud, “I think we’d be better off measuring then buying all the boxes together. I don’t want to make ten trips…” And with that she walked Mina out of the store
“What happened? We are not buying boxes?”
“Mina, I can’t fit that many in my car, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to drive all the way to Laguna with large pieces of cardboard sticking out of my trunk. Besides, I’m sure we can get more for our money at a moving company.”
Mina would take any excuse to just get in the car and drive to her new house. Finally something to look forward to, even if it would be a while before she could actually move in permanently. Now she had a place to go to in the morning to keep an eye on the repairs and renovations, trim the outgrown bushes, and maybe meet the neighbors. She felt thankful for Margo and Kathy and even Adams. Diego would always be a part of her. After all he saved her life, not once, but twice. She couldn’t think about him now. Concentrate Mina, concentrate. It’s a whole new beginning.
In the car she fidgeted with the safety belt, keeping her eyes on the huge delivery truck blocking their way. Margo had to wait until the truck’s driver came back before she could back out and hit the road to Laguna Beach.
“Are you buying all new furniture?” Margo asked.
“I don’t know yet, I want to see how the rooms’ layout will change with the remodeling. It’s going to be a while before we can actually move in.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s what I keep forgetting. We need to give a thirty-day notice to the rental office. We are lucky we are at the end of the lease.”
“Now that we have the keys, and it is really mine, it will be easier to get things moving. The contractor can go there in the morning and stay until late. It’s not like a condo or a townhouse, no one above or below, we can have loud television twenty-four hours a day.”
“You don’t even watch television.”
“I might now…”
“Sure you will. But I don’t care if you watch or not. We’ll still split the bill. Remember that.”
“Oh, my God, it’s going to be like being on vacation the whole year. We’ll get to play with cute pets and meet a lot of new people. Do you think we should have matching uniforms? How about a business name?”
“Kitties Galore.”
“Pets Are Us?”
“A Cat a Day.”
They joked and laughed all the way to Laguna Canyon. Margo had the road memorized as they often drove by the house just because…now it was finally their new home. They turned into the narrow road leading to the cottage.
BOOM.
As loud as a monster truck falling from the sky.
Something exploded in the air, rocking their world. Mina watched the trees sway. The road shook…Margo screamed, “It’s an earthquake. It’s an earthquake.” She pulled the Camaro to the side of the road.
A dark shadow grew above them. Thick smoke that seemed to rise from…”My house, that’s where my house is. Hurry Margo, hurry…”
Margo fumbled with the ignition, but the car was still idling. Her hands were so unsteady she couldn’t get the Camaro to move. Mina opened the passenger door, hit the road, and ran up to street. This is not happening, this cannot be…
Debris fluttered in the autumn air, like wilted petals from dead roses.
Mina panted but kept on running. Sirens drowned her scream when she rounded the corner and saw it.
Where her cottage once stood there was now a burning pyre. The garage in the back appeared untouched. Stunned, she stood by the low, rusted gate that swung back and forth with a groaning sound. The pyre belched, a small explosion, followed by more flames leaping toward the sky.
“Miss, move. Move.”
“It’s my house,” she said as a fireman forced her away from the gate.
“Is anyone inside?”
Anyone inside? Kathy… oh, Dio mio.
The car, she looked across the street. Kathy’s parked car, the windows shattered by the explosion. She pointed to the fireman, unable to articulate the words. Margo’s car inched forward, but another fireman signaled her to stop and went to talk to her. Hoses were deployed. Stranger’s faces coming from nowhere, voices shouting, whispering, and Kathy’s empty car.
“Miss, is anyone inside?”
She nodded. From the corner of her eye she saw Margo arguing with a fireman, pointing in her direction.
“Kathy, my Realtor.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her shaky hand. “That’s her car, we were to meet her here for the keys. She must have gone inside, I don’t know.” She sobbed quietly, avoiding the man’s stare, embarrassed by her lack of self-control.
“That’s it? You know for sure she was alone?”
“I–I think she was alone. Why waste time talking to me? Aren’t you going to save her?” A sense of urgency overtook her. “Go. Look, do something, she may be dying, and it’s all my fault.”
“How is it your fault?”
“I should have been here, not be late as usual.” Her voice carried the undertone of hysteria. The fireman scouted around, seemingly not in any hurry to move, then someone gently guided her away from the sidewalk and red-clad men rushed by. Other sirens sounded in the distance, getting closer. The pyre spewed more smoke than flames. Still from time to time a brief burst sounded like a firecracker misfiring. And the small crowd of onlookers closed in on her like a nest of wasps. We are sorry–are you the new owner? Did you store gas butane? Any other flammables?
She couldn’t handle it. She went to sit in Margo’s car. Numbness overtook her brain. She watched the firemen work frantically while she felt utterly useless. A buzzing from above, predators, she thought at the sight of the local news helicopter.
When evening came she was still there, waiting. Waiting for what? Other emergency vehicles had come and gone. One with charred remains retrieved from that inferno. Now the grey foam sprayed to quell the fire floated in the gutters. Dark clouds drifted above, and the acrid smell of smoke hung in the air. The yellow tape left to mark the boundaries flapped softly in the evening breeze. Adams had called on Margo’s cell. She had no idea how he knew. The insurance would send a company to set up a temporary fence. What for? Nothing left to take. She finally agreed to leave, too tired to fight the well-meaning souls. Margo had been a pillar of strength, even giving an interview to a local reporter.
“Do you want to stop to grab something to eat?”
Mina shook her head. “What about Kathy’s car?” She found it hard to talk. Between the crying and her refusal to take anything since lunch, her throat was dry, her lips cracked.
“They are trying to get hold of the next of kin,” Margo said. “Do you have any idea who that might be?”
“No, I know she was a widow, no kids. Just her–oh God! Her cat. She is–was–taking care of a kitten. We need to do something.”
While Margo maneuvered to get the Camaro turned around a black shiny Ford drove into the cul-de-sac. De Fiore. She didn’t know if he saw them. He parked by the sidewalk, next to the yellow tape and got out. He stood, back to them, probably assessing the burned mess, then he turned and must have noticed Kathy’s car because he quickened his pace. Mina couldn’t stand it. She unfastened her seat belt and got out. “De Fiore.” More whimper than shout.
He stopped, made a half turn to look back then walked toward where she stood.
“I just heard.” The skin on his face so pale, but his eyes didn’t give away any emotion. “Your house?” He nodded toward the pile of dark debris.
“Was.”
He stared at Kathy’s car. And waited.
“She–she must have been in the house. We were meeting. She had the keys. I was late getting here. It blew up–the house. That’s what they think.”
He nodded, didn’t ask any questions
“De Fiore.” For the first time since she’d known him she felt funny about calling him by his last
name. “The kitten.” Was he dating Kathy? Would he know about the cat? It was her turn to wait for some sort of acknowledgment. None came. “Kathy was taking care of a kitten. In her house. It’s a little cat. It needs feeding and…I’m not sure who else to ask.”
“Ask?”
Margo kept the Camaro idling, headlights on. For some reason she wasn’t getting out of the car or greeting the detective. Enough emotion for one day?
“I could care for it until a new owner is found. Do you know how to get into her house?”
“Why are you asking me?”
A whisper. “She liked you.”
He moved away, paced, seemed to look at Kathy’s car. “She has a sister–in Seattle.” His voice a tad softer, brimming with sadness. “We are trying to locate her. I’m sure she won’t mind if you take care of the cat until she gets down here. Let’s go.”
She didn’t dare to ask where. She hoped and prayed it was to go get the kitten. Margo agreed to drive home alone. De Fiore would take Mina back. They didn’t speak at all until Corona del Mar. She wasn’t about to ask again how they would get in. When they turned into Kathy’s street, he said, “She keeps a spare key by the front door.” Nothing else needed to be said.
De Fiore waited by the front door, avoiding her eyes the whole time that she went around assembling cat food, litter box, toys, anything and everything she thought would keep the kitten comfortable. In the car the furry thing bundled up on her lap and didn’t move until De Fiore drove through the gate of her complex. It became clear he wasn’t going to help her get the cat in the house. She had a strong feeling he kept the distance so as to not break down. He did however come around and open the car door. He must have remembered one of his men was watching.
He said. “I’ll have your car delivered to you by morning and my men will be out of here. It’s safe to assume that after this giant blunder, Surowiec’s minion will be out of a job for the rest of his life.” He left while Mina processed the implications of his statement.
CHAPTER 17
Days and nights lost meaning. Mina spent her life in self-imposed reclusion, not leaving her room but for necessities like changing the cat’s litter or signing papers Adams had delivered to her. She survived on food Margo insisted on leaving by her door. The rest of the time she sat and stared out the window, the kitten sitting by her side.
She could see her Volkswagen parked in its assigned space where De Fiore’s people delivered it. Untouched. After looking at her car day after day she learned to guess the time of the day by the way the light or shadow reflected on the bright yellow paint. Her useless personal sundial. Nothing could ease the pain brought on by the death of Kathy O’Sullivan. Especially not her conscience. De Fiore’s comment that evening played in her head over and over. “It’s safe to assume that after this giant blunder Surowiec’s minion will be out of a job for the rest of his life.”
It clearly implied this was no accident. It also meant Kathy wasn’t the intended victim. Will this ever end? How was she responsible when she had no idea what, who, or why this was happening? And it all went back to those twenty minutes spent in the house at the top of the mountain. Over and over she relieved the sequence without finding any answer. She lost Diego. Margo and the deliveryman were beaten. And Kathy, dear, dear Kathy died a horrible death. She cut herself off from daily life afraid to get more bad news. No news is good news had become her mantra. Margo managed to slip a piece of paper under her door announcing that De Fiore’s assistant called to let Mina know Kathy’s sister did not want the cat. Mina was free to dispose as she saw fit.
Dispose. Such an ugly, powerful word. You dispose of garbage, unwanted clothes, and broken things. She scratched the kitten behind the ears until it purred. “Don’t worry little one, nothing bad will happen to you as long as I’m alive. I promise.” Perhaps it was time to give the cat a name. Two weeks had gone by since the day of the fire. She didn’t know what happened to Kathy’s remains. Could the sister have taken her back to Seattle? Would Margo know?
Poor Margo, she was such a good friend. Mina had muted the phone in her own room so that Margo had no choice but to answer all the calls. Then she would patiently knock at the locked door and relay the message knowing well that Mina wasn’t going to answer.
As if on cue, came the knocking on the door. “Mina, I know you can hear me. Believe me, you want to take this call. It’s Detective De Fiore.” No Danny Boy? Must be serious. “It’s about the Realtor, you know…Kathy. Come on, get out of there, and take the call. You owe her that.”
You owe her that.
You owe her that.
She got off the bed, grabbed a bathrobe from the floor, put it on and opened the door. Margo handed her the phone without a word.
“Hello.”
“Mina, I wanted you to hear this from me. It will probably make the evening news. Are you there?”
“Yes.”
“There were two bodies in the house when it blew up.”
“Two.” She repeated to herself.
“Mina, don’t pay any attention to what you’ll see in the media. Are you listening? Kathy died of a gun shot to the head.” She could hear the detective’s heavy breathing, like he ran a marathon.
Her own breath caught. Odd sensations like crawling bugs ran up her spine, and she knew without looking that the hair on her forearms bristled. “Who–who shot her?” Scenarios from hell flashed in her mind’s eye. Diego carried a gun…
“Remember Wheezer, the chain smoker who beat the flower delivery man and then bugged your phone?’
“Huuh, I do.”
“He was the other body.”
“Oh. “ The boulder on her chest lifted. “Are you saying he shot Kathy? Why?”
“Most likely she walked in on him, and he panicked. The old Wheezer I remember would have kept his cool, but by all reports he was at the end of his–career. When he fired the gun he started a chain reaction that blew up the house. None of this probably makes sense to you. It has to do with gas. It appears he was rigging the place so you would involuntarily spark the explosion. We will know more when the fire investigators are done. And Mina, don’t beat yourself up over what happened. Some things are bigger than we are.” A long pause. “How’s the cat?”
“Great, really, right now she’s…my reason to hang around.”
“Kid, don’t go sappy on me. Life has a way of teaching us hard lessons. The sister is making arrangements for Kathy’s remains to be sent to Seattle, the house is already under contract. Another page is about to close. I’m here if you want to talk, but I’ve shared all I could. Are we good?”
“We’re good. Thanks, Dan.” It was only after she hung up that she realized she called him by his first name. She sat against the railing on the top step, her head rested on her bare knees. Poor, poor Kathy. The kitten came from the bedroom and nuzzled against her ankles. “Hi, kitty, we need to get you a name.”
“You haven’t named the cat yet?”
Mina hadn’t notice Margo sitting on the landing below.
“I didn’t know I would get to keep it. How much of the conversation did you hear?”
“Enough not to ask for details. About the cat? Is it a she or a he?”
“Female. According to Kathy.” She choked on the name.
“Wanna come downstairs and look at the list of calls you need to return?”
Mina shook her head and absently scratched the cat’s belly. This was the longest conversation she’d had in the last two weeks. The phone on her lap rang, she panicked, motioned Margo to get it. Her roommate took her sweet time, then sat next to her on the stairs, the kitten in between, and answered. “Hello.” She seemed to pay very close attention all the while looking at Mina and shaking her head. “What’s your name? What-is-your-name.” She sighed out loud. “Okay, wait.” She turned to Mina. “This guy, he speaks funny.”
Mina’s heart leaped in her throat, then she remembered Diego’s English was flawless. For all she knew he might even
be American.
Margo put her hands over the mouthpiece. “He says his name is Jee No, yeah, I’m pretty sure, Jee No.”
“Jay Leno?”
Margo shook her head, annoyed. “Here, you talk to him. He’s looking for you.”
This better not be one of Margo’s tricks to make her answer the phone. “Hello…”
“Mina? Cara Mina…son Gino? Ti ricordi di me?”
Gino? The bartender from the California Bar and Grill in Vicenza? No way. Someone was playing a joke on her. She held on to the phone, staring at Margo, not sure what to do.
“Hello, pronto…signorina Mina…”
“Si, sono qui. Huuh, where are you calling from?”
“From home, of course, our lovely Vicenza, where did you think I was?”
“I don’t know. You sound so close.” She improvised.
He laughed, a contented laugh. “I am coming to America.” It sounded like he just announced the name of an award winner, such was the sense of exultation she felt in his voice. In the meantime Margo kept trying to communicate with her without being overheard by the man at the other end. She finally shook Mina’s arm and mouthed. “The man sending you flowers?”
Mina shook her head. The whole scene was turning into a comedy, Gino speaking Italian and Margo in mime with Mina trying to pay attention to both while the kitten competed for attention by scratching at her bare legs.
“That’s wonderful, so when are you coming?” She didn’t really care about his answer. She still couldn’t accept this was actually happening.
“Soon, very soon. I will call you with all the details now that I know how to reach you.” Sure, must have been very hard to get his buddy Diego to give him her phone number. Who was he kidding? “I asked Emilia for your contact information because I couldn’t get hold of my friend.” He stopped short of naming names. Was he reading her mind? Margo was back tugging on her arm and mouthing. “Is-he-single? Did you go out with him?”
Mina rolled her eyes. “Great, I’ll make sure to have pen and paper next time you call. By the way where will you be arriving?”
Ashes of Autumn (Mina's Adventures Book 4) Page 11