Love Thy Sister (Mina's Adventures Book 1)

by Maria Grazia Swan

  “I could have helped her.”

  “You did. You gave her the strength to face what was happening instead of looking the other way.” He paused. “I wanted to wait for a better time to give you her letter, but after seeing a copy of the alleged suicide note, I knew I had to act fast. We must tell the police. This letter proves her death wasn’t suicide. She couldn’t possibly have called you “my little sister” in her suicide note. In the mean time, your brother-in-law is, no doubt, grabbing everything he can get his hands on.”

  “Does he know? About me, I mean.” She pointed to the letter.

  “No, she never told him.”

  “Will it make any difference?”

  “Yes, Mina, it drastically changes your legal rights to Paola’s estate. As you know, I’m the executor of her estate. I can’t discuss her will until everyone is present. That includes Michael, of course.” The last statement was said with some contempt. “Just a few weeks ago, we received the last documents necessary to make your status legal.”

  Adams lifted the white folder Mina had picked up at West Coast Software the Saturday Rachel died. The sight sent chills up her spine. Had Paola hoped she would look inside?

  “Do you know who my father is?” The words were out before she realized what she was going to say.

  Adams looked astonished at her question. His lips moved, but she heard no sound.

  “Well, do you?” she repeated.

  “Mina? Adams, are you done yet? Your wife says the pie is waiting at home. With freshly whipped cream.” Brian’s cheerful voice came from the entrance. Adams got up from his chair and, without looking at her, went to open the door.

  CHAPTER 18

  Mina drifted in and out of sleep.

  Paola, oh Paola, I miss you. Sister or mother, I don’t care, I miss you. Why didn’t you tell me? Why, why? Everything could have been different; maybe you’d be here with me right now. Oh, Paola, why?

  She stirred, searching for a cool spot in the bed.

  Where was Michael? She hadn’t seen him since the morning’s confrontation. What would happen when he found out? If Paola was her mother, then her “mother” would have been her grandmother and her “father” was her—step-grandfather?

  Mio Dio, such confusion. Who was her biological father? Adams had maneuvered himself out of answering that question. She kicked off the covers, and sat up, her body wet with perspiration. What time was it? A car drove by, salsa music blaring. Michael? No, he wouldn’t dare, would he? Tense, Mina listened as the vehicle drove past the house and away.

  She rubbed her eyes with her fists. Emotions and feelings she’d ignored during the day all came at her in huge waves. No use denying, she felt overwhelmed, too much to sort out, and no one to sort out with. Sleeping had been easier last night with Brian sitting by her side. Sweet Brian, when she’d told him about Paola’s secret, he hadn’t seemed surprised.

  “I always felt a special bond between the two of you,” he said. “Remember what you said before? That someone else planted Paola’s trees and she didn’t write a book. But she did have a child, and you are that child.”

  She’d been too immersed in her own mixed emotions to even thank him. All those new feelings. So different from the way she would have normally reacted.

  Before he’d left this evening, Brian insisted on going through every room in the house, just in case. He latched and secured every window, locked all the doors. He hinted around, but stopped short of offering to stay. Oh, the temptation of saying yes! But her feelings were raw and fragile; she didn’t want to make any more mistakes.

  The clock on her night table said one-thirty. She had to get some sleep.

  Lying still, she searched for thoughts to quiet her mind, dull her soul.

  The phone rang. Once, twice. Mina watched it ring. “Don’t,” said her brain. Her outstretched hand, picked it up, brought it to her ear. She heard a crackle—music—a voice, a man’s voice, singing, “...Put on your red shoes...” And a laugh, soft, like a whisper, long, like eternity.

  The phone dropped from her fingers, hit the side of the bed. She recoiled from it, her throat choked with fear. Cold sweat trickled down her spine.

  She felt helpless, vulnerable and incapable of even the simplest thought.

  Dio mio. She lay still, paralyzed, hoping to decipher the darkness, understand the silence.

  “If you need to make a call...” The mechanical voice from the phone jerked Mina back to reality. She switched on the lamp and inhaled deeply. It had to be a coincidence. A wrong number. Someone calling from a bar, that would explain the background music.

  Put on your red shoes...

  Something familiar about it. No, familiar wasn’t the right word. Mina was sure she had heard the song before. Where? When? Wouldn’t this night ever be over? The days ahead would all seem long, without Paola there. She might as well get used to it.

  Closing her eyes, she whispered, “Please, let the morning come soon.”

  * * * * *

  Mina walked into West Coast Software Friday morning not knowing what to expect. She wanted to be sure that Paco knew about the meeting at Adams’, but she dreaded running into Michael.

  Margo put down her rainbow coffee mug and ran to hug her. “I’m so sorry about your sister.” Her eyes were red and puffy. Mina wasn’t sure what to make of that. Bloodshot eyes weren’t that unusual for Margo after a holiday.

  She wanted to tell Margo that Paola was her mother, not her sister, but Adams had been specific; no one was to be told until the meeting at his office, scheduled for this afternoon.

  Adams hadn’t said if Paco knew about her and Paola. Maybe she shouldn’t have told Brian yesterday, but she had to tell someone, and he hadn’t seemed to fit into Adams’ warning. Distractedly, she returned Margo’s embrace.

  With one final squeeze, Margo released her. “Coffee?” she said, her tone back to normal. Margo’s emotions never lingered.

  “No, thank you,” she said. “Is Michael in?”

  “I haven’t seen him—Paco opened up this morning. Speak of the devil.” She winked at Paco as he came in from the warehouse.

  Pinned on the sleeve of his freshly laundered lab coat, Paco wore a black armband. The sight brought tears to Mina’s eyes. Coming to her side, he put an arm around her shoulder.

  “Isn’t that a pretty picture?” Michael’s voice made them both turn around.

  He stood by the entrance, wearing a herringbone suit Mina had never seen before. His sparse hair was combed back, gleaming with grease. At his side was Sarah, whose wiry hair had been re-dyed to its original black. Its glossiness made her look Oriental, rather than Hispanic. Though she wore no lipstick, her eyelids were loaded with bright blue shadow, and she wore a form-fitting gold lame dress.

  In the morning? And was that one of Paola’s gold chains around her ankle? With a cry, Mina lunged at her.

  “Mina!” Paco stopped her, tightening his hold around her shoulders.

  Michael jumped back and Mina saw fear flicker in his eyes, but Sarah stood her ground, her colorless lips parted in a defiant smile, her cold black eyes locked on Mina’s.

  “Goddamn it, what are you doing here?” Michael had regained his composure—and his manners.

  Before Mina could answer, his eyes traveled to Paco, and he noticed the armband. “What the hell? You old fool, take off that stupid rag. Better yet, take off the lab coat too and turn it in. You’re fired.”

  Paco silently shook his head, sadness in his eyes. Walking away, he lowered his eyelids as if fighting back tears.

  In a manner so calm that it surprised even her, Mina said, “Yes Paco, why don’t you change and take the day off. With pay, of course. You could use a break.” She punched each word of the sentence, staccato, her eyes on Michael’s face. “And I’ll see you later this afternoon, Paco. In Adams’ office.”

  Everyone in the room stared at her, stunned. She felt Paola’s presence, her approval.

  “Let’s go into my offic
e,” Michael said to Mina. He took Sarah’s arm, but she shook him off and stood looking at Mina with those cold, black eyes.

  Eyes like the dead.

  The phrase came into Mina’s mind unbidden, and she suppressed a shiver. “Sorry, Michael,” she said, not about to back down now. “Whatever it is will have to wait until after the meeting.”

  His face turned purple. Mina had never thought about it before, but Michael was probably a prime heart attack candidate. She waited for him to clutch at his chest. Instead, he stormed into his office alone and slammed the door.

  The look of astonishment on Paco’s face made her smile. “Don’t worry about Michael,” Mina winked at him. “After the meeting, you’ll understand.”

  “I would like to talk to you,” Paco said and motioned toward the office.

  She understood and followed him.

  “What is it, Paco?” She asked.

  “It’s about Takawa’s disks. Well, more about the copyrights information he entrusted us with. This may be nothing, but I just need to talk to someone about it,” Paco said.

  Mina wasn’t sure what he meant; she knew nothing about it. She let Paco talk. “I told you I had high hopes regarding Sarah, treated her like family, I may have been too trusting, I may…”

  “You may what?” Mina grew impatient.

  “Well, I sort of talked to her about some of the confidential info we gather from clients. Clients like Takawa. Information that could be worth a lot to competitors.”

  “Mio Dio. You think Sarah is behind all this?”

  “I never would have thought she could, until now, seeing her with Michael…I don’t know. I hope I’m wrong. I could never forgive myself.”

  “Paco, let’s not go there yet. Nothing matters more than our meeting with Adams. Clear your mind.”

  His eyes warmed. “Until this afternoon, then.” Turning, he left through the warehouse.

  As Mina walked to the door, she passed Sarah, who still stood where Michael had left her. Her foot with Paola’s jeweled anklet tapped furiously. “Enjoy it while it lasts,” Mina said.

  Sarah’s spiteful gaze flickered past Mina and her expression changed; she seemed to glow.

  Turning, Mina saw Ishmael Fernandez. He had entered the office and was standing behind Margo’s chair. His fingers circled slowly, massaging the receptionist’s neck. Margo’s head was bent back, eyes closed, the picture of sensual bliss. But Ishmael was staring over her, gazing at his sister with such intensity that Mina felt she was witnessing something unnatural, something sinful.

  The telephone rang, and Margo opened her eyes. “Are you still here?” she said to Mina, then answered the phone.

  Ishmael’s dark fingers lingered on Margo’s shoulders, but the disturbing gleam in his eyes was still focused on Sarah.

  Feeling an urgent need for fresh air, Mina stepped outside. Things would change, once her situation was out in the open. Starting with the Fernandez clan.

  She checked her watch. Not quite noon. The meeting was scheduled for three o’clock. Now that she knew for sure Paco would be there, she didn’t feel like waiting around.

  Getting into her car, she drove to the freeway. Traffic was light because of the four-day holiday, and she reached Mission Viejo in record time. She parked her car in the usual place, in front of the house. Entering by the front door, she had to fight back the impulse to call out, “I’m home!”

  As usual, she was hungry. She dropped her purse in the foyer and went into the kitchen, her mind set on the contents of the refrigerator. Getting the milk out, she took a swig from the carton. She was the only one drinking it. When she lowered her head, she noticed that the door leading to the garage was ajar, the garage light on.

  She pushed the door wide and gasped. Paola’s red Thunderbird was gone.

  CHAPTER 19

  Mina pulled into the small parking lot in front of Adams’ office. She noticed Michael’s black Corvette first. Paco’s truck wasn’t there, but an old beat-up green sedan looked familiar. De Fiore? One last time she checked her hair in the rearview mirror, smoothed her skirt and got out of the car.

  Coming around the corner, she saw Michael by the front door, talking to a man. Oh, yes, Detective De Fiore! The proud owner of the green monster in the parking lot. Should she talk to him about Paola’s missing car, or ask Michael first?

  “Just don’t leave town,” De Fiore finished saying as she walked up to them. Interesting. The detective wheeled about, bumping into her. Mina smiled, but De Fiore barely nodded. Brushing past her, he strode toward the parking lot.

  “What was that all about?” Mina asked Michael.

  Ignoring her, he knocked on the door.

  The attractive young woman who let them in wasn’t Adams’ secretary. She must have read Mina’s quizzical expression. “I’m Gloria, a temp,” she offered. “Cindy is on vacation.” She pointed to the waiting area, “If you’ll sit down, please. Mr. Adams will be here momentarily.”

  Michael sat on a blue velvet chair by the window, grabbed a month-old magazine and tried to act absorbed.

  “Michael,” Mina began.

  “Yeah.”

  “I need to talk to you about Paola’s Thunderbird.”

  “What about it?” He spoke without lifting his head.

  “It’s gone.”

  “Oh?”

  “Is that all you can say? `Oh’?” She mimicked him, but her voice wasn’t playful.

  “What do you want me to say?” He finally looked up.

  “Aren’t you worried about it? What if it’s been stolen?”

  “I don’t see how that is of any concern to you.” He paused, then added. “It’s being repainted.”

  “Why? It’s practically new. There isn’t a scratch on it.” The red shoe in the car, my God!

  “It’s none of your goddamn business, Mina. It’s my car now and I can dispose of it as I please. Understood?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Mina noticed Gloria peeking at them, trying to act nonchalant.

  Someone knocked at the door. The temp got up and let Paco in.

  “Hello, Mr. Davies,” Paco said.

  He smiled at Mina and sat next to her on the couch. Michael settled back into his seat, a smug smile on his face.

  Mina was damned if he was going to get off that easy. She tried to control the trembling of her hands as she spoke. “Michael. About the Thunderbird.”

  “Fuck!” He slammed the magazine shut and thrust his face inches away from hers. “Sarah doesn’t like red,” he said, then sat back in the chair, a smirk curving the corners of his mouth.

  Before she could reply, Adams opened the door to his inner office. “Please, come in. I’m sorry to be late. Gloria, can you bring one more chair?”

  Paco wouldn’t let Gloria carry the chair in by herself and, smiling, she let him help her. When they were settled, Adams said, “Before we get started, would anyone like coffee?”

  Michael spoke. “Let’s get this over with. I’ve got things to do, decisions to make.”

  “Very well. Hold my calls, please,” Adams said to Gloria.

  She nodded, hand on the doorknob. “Let me know if you need anything, sir.”

  After Gloria closed the door, Adams cleared his throat. It sounded like thunder in the small quiet room. Mina stared at the different diplomas hanging on his wall. If only Michael wasn’t here. He was like an overfed scavenger, greedy to pick over the remains of Paola’s estate.

  Paco betrayed his nervousness by picking imaginary specks of lint from his spotless trousers.

  She glanced at Michael. His forehead looked shiny, although the room was cool. “So, what are we here for?” he asked.

  Adams finished realigning his papers and set them on the table with a slap. “You already know that I’m the executor of Paola’s estate.” His eyes went from face to face. A smile for Mina, a nod to Paco, and finally, a look of concentration at Michael.

  “Normally,” he went on, “I wait until after the
funeral to read the will; however, in this case, it has become necessary to do it now.”

  “Oh, yeah? What’s so special about her will? We already know the conditions.” Michael’s apparent casualness wasn’t convincing. “I get everything. Our pre-nuptial agreement doesn’t count since we didn’t get divorced. So, maybe she wanted to leave some jewelry to her sister and some personal belongings to the old man,” he said, pointing at Paco. “I can understand that. And I’m sure there’s something there for your trouble.” He looked at Adams with contempt. “Have I forgotten anyone?”

  “You are correct, the pre-nuptial contract is void because there was no divorce. However, the main clause made you sole heir only if Paola died childless.”

  Michael tried to interrupt, but Adams stopped him with a motion of his hand. He pulled out a document of an odd size, wider and longer than most legal papers Mina had seen. As he handed it over to Michael, Mina recognized the Official Seal of the Italian Government.

  “And here is the English translation, notarized and properly signed,” the lawyer pushed another paper toward Michael.

  No mistake, Adams was enjoying the moment. He turned to Paco and said, “That’s Mina’s birth certificate. Paola was her natural mother.” An amused glint appeared in the lawyer’s pale blue eyes as he watched Paco’s mouth open and close again.

  Michael threw the papers on the desk, slammed his fist on top of them.

  “Bullshit!” he yelled into Mina’s face. “If you think I’m falling for this crap, you’re all nuts. He put you up to this to get your sister’s money.”

  The pulse in his neck throbbed. Mina watched the purple flush creep through his skin, just as it had that morning at West Coast Software. “You’d better watch yourself or you’ll burst a blood vessel, Michael. I had nothing to do with this. I only found out yesterday, myself. That’s the truth,” she said.

  But Michael didn’t let her finish. He kicked back his chair and walked to the door. On the threshold, he spun around, his eyes glossy, predatory. “You don’t know who you are dealing with, you old fool,” he said to Adams. “You’ll hear from my lawyer. In the meantime, I don’t want to see any of your faces.” His arm swept to include everyone present. “Stay away from my house and my business or I’ll blow you all away.” He slammed the door behind him. Another loud bang told them that the front door had received the same treatment.