Decisions, decisions. The whole day seemed to come down to a series of decisions: what to wear to the office, what to say during the meeting, who to trust the most, to sell or not to sell. Mina sat through the hour-long bartering. Of course, everyone spoke in civilized manner and no one expected this first gathering to produce final results. More information would be collected and exchanged, and another meeting was scheduled for the following week.
Sadness shadowed her heart when she started the engine of her 1978 Beetle after the meeting. Would her mother really have approved of the sale? Mina’s business knowledge was so limited she felt compelled to do nothing but sit pretty and listen to the conversation with great diligence. Maybe she would get a sign from her mother, anything to put her mind at ease and believe this was a good move.
She stopped to buy groceries and realized she forgot to make a list. What list? Only coffee and milk were left at the condo. She needed everything. Even the shampoo was all gone. Brian liked her brand of shampoo; he loved to bury his face in her freshly washed hair. Sweet Brian was stranded somewhere, with his mother, and Christmas just weeks away. The Christmas Boat Parade of lights would be starting this week. Maybe she would get a cruise ticket and…no, not alone.
Mina slammed on her brakes, made a sharp right and parked in front of a Ralph’s grocery store. Bite the bullet, Mina. Another fascinating Americanism. She didn’t even own a gun; where would she get a bullet? Besides, biting a bullet would probably result in a broken tooth. Who ever came up with that idea? A dentist?
By the time she put away her shopping, it was time for happy hour at Bosom Bodies.
Better hurry up, she had to get there before Barbara signed off for the night.
The uniform and bra were still a little damp. She dried them with the hair dryer, folded everything nicely, placing the small pile in one of the Ralph’s empty paper bags, grabbed her keys, and climbed back into her rag top. Last trip to the so-called restaurant.
She crossed the gate, leaving the dark condo complex behind. The CC&Rs did not allow for Christmas lights, something about fire danger. Mina hadn’t given much thought to that until now. She was glad she only signed a lease-purchase instead of buying the place outright. Maybe she wasn’t Bayside Condominiums material.
She drove along, aware her car smelled of clean hair. Nice. Where should she park once at Bosom Bodies? The back lot was only for employees, who she no longer was—okay, she never really was an employee. She would park in front, like a customer. What if someone recognized her car in that place? Mina was still trying to decide when she pulled up in front of Bosom Bodies. Happy hour or not, there were hardly any cars parked there. What? Everyone went on a cruise with the Christmas boat parade?
A green sedan caught her attention. Maledizione. Detective DeFiore again? She hadn’t seen him in months and now twice in twenty-four hours? What was it with him? She never pegged him for a big boobs kind of guy. Maybe all men were big boobs men given the opportunity. You asked for it, Mr. DeFiore. Mina coasted her Bug right next to his car, picked up the bag with the clean-hair-smelling clothes, and marched up to the main entrance of Bosom Bodies. The double door was locked tight. A sheet of white paper with a hand scribbled message was duct taped to the glass part.
Closed for the night due to our manager’s passing. We will be open tomorrow during our usual business hours.
Chapter 4
Manager’s passing? Barbara? Passing? Mio Dio. That meant dying. Barbara dead? How? Mina stood holding the paper bag with the Bosom Bodies uniform in one hand, her other hand on the door handle, her mind blank. The handle turned under her fingers. The door opened about a foot, and Lisa’s disheveled head appeared.
“Ginger? I didn’t recognize you. The policeman wants to talk to you. Hurry. Come inside. I need to lock the door.” She grabbed Mina’s arm and pulled her in, closing the door behind her. Few lights had been turned on, and Mina’s eyes had to adjust to the twilight-like mood. DeFiore and Diego sat in one of the booths along the wall. The fake candle on the table cast strange shadows on the men’s faces. They both looked at her. She felt exposed and vulnerable. She also felt guilty and had no idea why.
DeFiore motioned her over. Mina reacted as if thousands of disapproving eyes watched, while well aware less than a dozen people were in the room.
She walked by a table and recognized the woman she served drinks to the night before. Was the woman cop talking to Angelina DeFiore's partner? Aside from the two cops, Diego and Angelina, who appeared to be crying, Mina didn’t see any familiar faces among the rest of the women wearing the Bosom Bodies uniforms. They looked out of place in this dark, silent restaurant.
“Sit down.” DeFiore wore a charcoal suit and a light grey silk tie with tiny, brownish reindeer on it. Nice seasonal touch. Mina remembered his fondness for imported ties. He looked her over, taking his time. His Asian eyes made it difficult to guess his frame of mind. “So, who are we today? Mina Calvi?" His glance slid to Mina’s shoes. "Or Ginger?"
She caught his appraisal, and her stress let up.
Mina scooted into the booth beside DeFiore, across from Diego. “It depends. Who are you today? The detective investigating a death or a hungry customer looking for a fulfilling meal?” She mentally patted herself on the back for thinking of the word “fulfilling.”
His grim smile gave her the answer. He was there because of Barbara’s death, but why was Diego sitting with him? Was he going to listen in?
Her stress rose again. “What happened?”
“Don’t start. I ask the questions. How about you explain the Ginger charade? I know it is not because you need the job, so what gives?”
Mina looked at DeFiore and then at Diego.
“He is staying,” DeFiore said.
Maledizione. “Why? Because he is the only male employee?”
“No, because I like his fulfilling cooking.”
Double damn.
Diego never uttered a word, and yet his presence disturbed Mina in a physical way that annoyed her to no end. She hoped DeFiore didn’t pick up on it.
She went over the whole scenario, Ginger’s wedding in Vegas, Mina substituting for her so she wouldn’t lose the job.
“What’s the connection between this Ginger and Barbara Spencer?”
“I dunno. I met them at the gym. Ginger taught yoga, and Barbara showed up for the same classes I did.”
“Does Ginger have a last name?”
“Miller. Her last name is, was Miller. She is married now. She is driving back today, maybe she is already home. You think Ginger knows about Barbara? When did she die?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“What do you mean you don’t know? Is this some kind of a joke?”
“Her body was discovered this morning by two boys combing the beach with metal detectors. There was no I.D. on the body, but we located a car not far away. Going by the sand and the marine layer residue, it hadn’t been moved since yesterday. Her wallet with her driver’s license and other personal items were found inside. We think she was jogging south of Corona Del Mar when a car hit her. The impact sent her body rolling down the steep hill. She landed on the beach below.”
“Yeah, she likes to jog,” Mina said to herself. She couldn’t think of anything else. This was senseless. She tried hard to concentrate on Barbara, a woman she hardly knew. Did she have kids? Pets? A lover? Mina had no idea where Barbara lived. The gym was in Mission Viejo, Bosom Bodies in Balboa. Miles apart.
“We're gathering information, trying to establish a time line. Apparently Sunday was her day off, and no one here has seen her since Saturday. How about you?”
“No.”
“No, what?”
“I didn’t see her Sunday, or Saturday. She was gone by the time I got here.”
“Whose idea was it for you to dress as Ginger?”
“Both, Barbara and Ginger. I thought it would be fun. I’ve just moved. Anything to keep me from unpacking.”
Diego hadn't
budged or spoken. What was he thinking?
“How do you like your new place?” DeFiore must have run out of police questions.
“It’s okay. I guess. I don’t know.” She shrugged, fidgeted with the buttons of her fitted jacket.
“Hard day at the office?” Diego asked.
He startled her. She turned to look at him, and he winked. Not a smile, just a wink.
“Mina, you and Ginger will have some explaining to do to whoever is going to be in charge of this joint. Can you think of anything that can help us? We need to catch who did this.” DeFiore said.
“You don’t think it was an accident?”
“No one stopped to help her or called for help or reported an accident—what do you think? Apparently no one has missed her, either. Do you know if she has family?”
“I don’t even know where she lives. I cancelled my membership to the gym when I moved. Haven’t been back to Mission Viejo in weeks.”
DeFiore gathered the papers in front of him and got up. He turned to Mina, “Does Brian know about your moonlighting?” He gestured to the bar, the tables.
She felt herself blushing and sensed Diego was taking in every second of her frustration. She shrugged, didn’t answer.
“I take that as a no. Thanks for the info.” DeFiore turned to Diego. “We are okay, then?”
Diego nodded, and there was no hint of a smile or a wink. Something was going on. What? Diego didn’t look surprised her name was Mina or that she knew DeFiore. Was he already familiar with everything about her, and if so, how?
There was nothing for her to do here. Mina walked toward the front door, “Mina,” DeFiore called out, “better use the back door.” She nodded. To get to the back door Mina had to walk by the table where the policewoman sat.
The woman's question stopped Mina. “Do we know each other?” No trace of Angelina or any other employee by now.
Mina swallowed. It was obvious she didn’t make the connection. Mina pulled a corner of the red wig from her paper bag.
The woman laughed, the light, gurgling laugh of a child. “Oh, yes, you’re the waitress who nearly broke Dan’s foot. I’m Sam Perez, his partner.”
Sam, laughing with her like an old friend, no cop nonsense. Mina liked that a lot. “Mina Calvi.” They shook hands.
“I’ve never seen him so shocked and mad, but mostly shocked. I’m assuming he already asked you whatever he needed. We're done here, just waiting for Lisa to show some paperwork to Dan. We should have a drink some evening, trade stories about our boy.” Sam laughed again, that pure sound of innocent fun. Perfect teeth, lined up like ivory beads on a rosary.
“What are you two laughing about?” It was DeFiore.
“Nothing, really. I’m going home,” Mina said.
“Are you still driving your ragtop Bug?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I hear you're about to become a millionaire. Get yourself a new car, one you can lock. Stay safe and say hi to Brian for me when he calls.”
Mina nodded, walked away and let herself out through the back. All was dark and quiet in the employee’s parking lot, the steps lit by only one bulb. She noticed Diego’s Harley and Lisa’s junker.
“I’ll walk you to your car.” Diego stepped out from the shadowy corner.
Mina jolted back. “You scared me.”
“Better me than someone with bad intentions.”
Somehow that did not reassure her. She quickened her pace. What could happen? DeFiore was a few yards away.
They reached the front of the building. Only two vehicles remained, DeFiore’s sedan and Mina’s convertible. She searched her pocket for the ignition key without slowing her pace, and realized she was still holding the paper bag with the Bosom Bodies uniform and the envelope with the money for Angelina still in her purse.
“Maledizione,” she muttered before remembering Diego spoke Italian. Curiosity overcame her caution. “Where did you learn Italian?”
“In Italy.” He was right at her side. He smelled of mountain pine. His soap?
“Oh, like, you lived there? Were you in the Army or something?”
He didn’t answer right away. She turned her head to look at him. Even in the darkness of the hour she could tell his expression had changed. His smile held no joy and his eyes avoided hers. “Yeah, the Army or—something.”
Mina opened her car door and got in.
“Stay safe,” Diego said in a soft voice.
She left the parking lot of Bosom Bodies, hoping she never had to go back there again.
The streets of Balboa were alive with holiday anticipation—cars parked in the most unexpected places by people trying to get a good view of the boat parade. No more parade for Barbara, no more anything. How could a human being run over another human being and drive away without stopping to help? Maybe the person was drunk, maybe driving without a license? Nothing could excuse such an act of cowardice. The fires of hell would be too mild for such a person. Mina drove slowly, paying close attention. People walked randomly in front of cars. She sighed in relief once she crossed the bridge and reached Pacific Coast Highway. Almost home. It didn’t matter if the place was a mess and she didn’t have Christmas decorations, it was still home.
A cold hand touched her right shoulder and from the back of the car came a whisper, “Please, don’t turn around. Keep driving.”
Chapter 5
Mina slammed on the brakes so hard the Volkswagen fishtailed, stopping inches from a parked car. She pulled the key from the ignition, ready to jump out of the car.
“Ginger, wait, it’s me.”
Ginger?
She recognized Angelina’s voice. When did she get into her car? Better yet, why did she get into her car?
“You scared me to death. You are so lucky I didn’t have a gun. Why didn’t you tell me you needed a ride?”
“Diego, I don’t trust him, didn’t want him to see me.”
“Diego, yeah, strange man. Let me straighten out the car before I get a ticket. Where do you need to go?”
“I was hoping, praying I could spend the night at your house.” Pleading and fear blended tightly in Angelina’s voice.
“My house?” Visions of her chaotic place filled Mina’s mind, but when she looked at Angelina’s distraught face she relented. “I tell you what. Let’s get to the condo and we can talk. By the way, my name isn’t Ginger. It’s Mina. I’ll explain later.”
“Please, it’s better if no one knows I’m with you. Please.”
“Just sit back and scooch down when I go through the gate to the complex. No one will know you are in the car.”
They didn’t speak again until they were inside Mina’s home.
“Would you like something to eat? Drink?” Mina asked.
Angelina shook her head, avoiding Mina’s eyes. “This is your house?”
“I’m renting. Needed a place to live after my mother’s house was sold. Listen, Ginger is a friend. I took her place at Bosom Bodies so she wouldn’t lose her job. She’ll start working at Bosom Bodies tomorrow. Barbara knew about it.” The mention of Barbara chilled the mood. “Angelina, what’s happening with you? Why don’t you want to go home?” She didn’t ask about the bruise under her eye, didn’t want to embarrass poor Angelina.
“It’s my—the man I’m living with, he is mean. If I get back home early, he will beat me because I don’t make enough money. I don’t want to go back there. If you let me spend the night here, in the morning I’ll catch a bus to Oceanside. I have family there. They can help me.”
“Angelina, where are you from?” Mina couldn’t pinpoint her accent.
“Guatemala, but my mother is from El Salvador.”
“Oh, I see.” See what? “I can only offer you a couch to sleep on. You can tell I’m not very organized here.”
“It’s good, it’s very good. You are a nice person, I knew right away.”
Mina didn’t have a clue what to do or say. To ask questions would seem like snoop
ing. Not asking would seem like she didn’t care.
“How about some hot cocoa to warm us up?” she said.
Angelina appeared to be about the same age as Mina, and not as young as first assumed. She was also taller than Mina, and her English sounded better than when she spoke from behind the glass divider at Bosom Bodies. “Let me see if I can find a pillow and some blankets for you. It gets cold at night.”
“Can I go out on the terrace? Maybe I can see the boat parade.”
“Sure, but it’s a little late for the parade.”
Angelina was already out on the dark terrace. Mina went to set out some towels in the guest bathroom. She wasn’t prepared for an overnight guest. That was for sure. It was easier than she expected. All her linens and towels were in the same clearly marked box. She recognized Brian’s handwriting, of course.
By the time the kettle hissed, Angelina came back in. “Brrr, it’s cold, but so beautiful, stars in the sky, boats lit up like stars in the water. You are so lucky.”
Mina had to bite her lip to keep from pointing out the price of such luck. She would trade all the luck in the world to have Paola back, if only for one more day. So much she never had a chance to say to her.
Mina put the instant cocoa in the cups, filled with boiling water, stirred and then handed one of the white mugs to Angelina.
“Could I borrow a sweater?” Angelina asked. “You were right, it’s cold.”
“Sure, let me get you one. Be right back.”
Mina came back with a zippered hoodie she knew was clean because it smelled of shampoo.
“Here Angelina, you may want to wear this in the morning when I take you to the bus. I hope you know where the bus stop is. I’m not familiar with this side of Orange County yet. I used to live in Mission Viejo.” While they sipped their hot cocoa, it occurred to Mina they had nothing in common but the accent.
“I like the name Mission Viejo,” Angelina said, “so romantic.”
“Yeah, but it should be Mission Vieja.”
“Mission Vieja? Why?”
Bosom Bodies (Mina's Adventures) Page 3