Sniffing Out Murder (Mina's Adventures Book 7)

by Maria Grazia Swan

  The ER doctor had cleaned her minor wounds and put Band-Aids on it. Her head however was a whole different story. Prognosis: mild concussion. Linda had driven her back home and sat with her until nine o’clock when the low dose sedative put Mina into a semi-conscious state of manufactured bliss. With the cats fed and Millie due to arrive in a day, Linda left, and Mina felt free to unleash her pent-up self-pity.

  Margo, who obviously knew nothing of Mina’s misfortunes, picked that late evening hour to call. “Turn on PBS, they have that thing, you know, about the funeral. Gino phoned and said BBC covered the whole show, I mean—ceremony? Shit, you know what I mean. And it will be part of tonight’s World News. It starts in about five minutes. Couldn’t call you sooner, had to work.” Long sigh. “The restaurant was freaking busy tonight. You’d think Thursday night would be a slow night, but noooo. Hurry, turn it on, can’t wait to see how good my Gino looks with his suit and tie, so tired of him in cooking rags. Your boyfriend should give him a promotion, you know, like a director or something like that, and we could fly around with that jet like your boyfriend does. How come he never takes you along? Oh, oh. It’s starting. Are you watching? I’ll call you when it’s over.”

  She was gone before Mina could slip in a single word. Concussion or not now she really did have a headache. But curiosity won, and she sat on her bed and turned on the television. What had Margo said? PBS? She surfed channels until the somber tone and British accent of an older lady with impeccable hair and a dark outfit caught her attention. Yes, Margo had the correct information.

  This was BBC World News, but not a live broadcast. It must have been recorded earlier in the day. Again, Mina couldn’t quite figure out the time difference, nine hours, give or take one? The cameras showed what could have been a large church. It seemed like most of the shots were taken from up above the main floor and often lingered on a coffin covered by hundreds of white flowers—calla lilies maybe? Hard to tell.

  Music could be heard, and Mina couldn’t tell if it was part of the eulogies or if it was after the fact. Either way, it sounded lovely. Soft classical music, no organ here. The British commentator named names of people who must have been well known, but who meant nothing to Mina until the Minister of Italian Culture came up, and Mina had to admit she was completely out of touch with anything and everything from her motherland. She had to learn from BBC that Italy had a Minister of Italian Culture. Most of the people crowding the pews or sitting on rows of raised upholstered chairs appeared unmistakably European. Either blonds from the Northern shores or darker skinned from the Mediterranean beaches, they were all Europeans.

  The Madonna of the String Pearls must have been a very popular and beloved woman. A little voice in Mina’s head added powerful to the list. Just then the camera lingered on a lovely if sad young lady dressed in black, a hat with a veil shadowing her features.

  The commentator mentioned the mourner to be the deceased’s beloved niece and just then said niece rested her head on her companion’s shoulder, while he patted her gloved hand that rested on his perfectly creased slacks, on that iffy spot between his knee and his groin.

  A veil thick enough to hide Nadya Veggos's real nature had yet to be invented, and Mina could recognize that masculine hand patting the Greek heiress from hell even with a double concussion.

  She clicked the television off and pitched the remote across the room, hitting her open bedroom door. The remote ricocheted into the stairwell, and Aria must have thought it was a new toy because she rushed over and accidentally pushed it over the step. Mina could hear it rolling down and probably coming apart before landing on the living room floor.

  Her fingers pressing her temples, Mina stared at the blank screen not sure why this wave of jealousy flooded her brain. She thought she’d gotten over that. Why? Why? Might as well go find the remote and hope it still worked. She stepped off the bed and saw Houdini observing her with those eyes that never missed a thing. Maybe Diego had cast a spell on the cat and could see what Houdini saw. Maledizione. Now she was downright hallucinating.

  Moving around made her feel better. If the funeral had been nine hours ago, he should be back at his hotel or wherever he stayed—along with Gino, she hoped. There was that jealousy again.

  She should call him, comfort him. He must be devastated; he'd worshipped the woman. That was no secret. She started down the stairs and found the battery from the remote first, the rest on the living room floor. By now the night had descended, and the hills surrounding her home were as dark and silent as her soul.

  If she could make it to morning, maybe Millie would be here to cheer her up. The sun would be shining; birds would be singing. All that mental pep talk wasn’t helping much. What better time to call Diego than now? He had lost a loved one, and she had a concussion. Plenty of reasons.

  She went to the kitchen, poured herself some sparkling water, and marched back to her room to call the love of her life. She hadn’t touched her purse since parking her car in the driveway while talking to Tom and then taking Buddy for a walk.

  Buddy.

  Her mind had blocked the name and the memory of what happened after that, but it all came hurling back. Panic darted up her veins, her breathing shallow and quick. Buddy, chasing a human shadow. Where were they now? Someone must know. The dog ran off with the collar and the broken leash still on him, and who was he chasing? A man? A woman? Friend or foe? Someone must know the answer. Think, Mina. Think. Her house phone rang. Please don’t let it be Margo. Not now.

  “Did you see him?” Margo.

  “No, I didn’t see much, something happened—to my television I mean. Not sure what, I’m sorry.”

  “You seem to have all kind of misfortunes lately, don’t you?” If she only knew. “My Gino looked so handsome. I didn’t see your boyfriend. How come? And you know what’s funny? Gino was sitting with the Italians. I’m wondering if they are the ones with the yacht.”

  Yacht? “Not sure what you’re talking about.”

  “You never are. You used to be fun. Since you started that pet rescue, you’re sad and depressed most of the time. Maybe you need to find a different career. Get a pet parlor or something, or get a boyfriend that takes you places and—”

  “Margo, I have a bad headache. I’m happy you got to see Gino, and maybe he’s trying to call, and you don’t want to miss his phone call. Let’s call it a night.” She hung up before Margo could call her a bad girlfriend or another one of her favorite accusations. Her purse sat on top of her dresser. Linda must have put it there. She clearly remembered leaving the purse on the driver's seat of her LTD when she'd decided to take Buddy with her to meet the yardmen.

  She opened it and right away located her cell phone. It looked like she'd missed twelve phone calls. Great. Not. She searched the side pocket, the one with the zipper, but no Diego’s phone. She always kept it there when in her car. Now her panic escalated. She couldn’t stop her whole body from shaking. She'd left her car outside the garage in the driveway. Could it still be there? Yet someone had brought her purse in, and her car keys were hooked on her purse the way she always did. Why couldn’t she remember? And then she did. Diego’s phone was tucked safely in her jeans pocket. She sighed in relief and went to look for the jeans.

  Her memory returned in bits and pieces. The jeans had dirt and grass stains mashed into them. After they came back from the ER, Linda had helped her get into her nighty and said she would put her dirty clothes… in the laundry room. Yes. At the speed she rushed down the stairs, she could have given Houdini a run for it.

  She found the jeans and a lot more—but no phone. Not possible. It had to be there, somewhere.

  After going through everything in sight without results, she tackled the car. Linda or Tom must have parked the car inside. With all the lights on she searched the seat, over and under, nothing. By the time she was done it must have been midnight in California and morning in Greece. The only hope left was the driveway outside the garage where the car had sat
for a while. That or…

  She wasn’t going to think about that, no way. She couldn’t possibly have lost the phone, not his phone. She needed a flashlight. The flashlight and candles were in the kitchen.

  Might as well start from the back of the garage. Mina walked the length of the garage to the locked door connecting her place to the Ritzy Cats B&B and Millie’s place. Her hand grabbed the doorknob when a strange noise sent her heart to her throat. Someone was outside her garage side door, someone who was trying to break in? That noise again. Louder, like a heavy metal container being dragged. Images of coffins and dead bodies flashed in her mind’s eye.

  She couldn’t move. Could they hear her labored breathing from the outside? They? Who?

  The element of surprise worked in her favor. If she moved quietly, she could swing the door wide open, and point the bright light in their eyes, and they’d probably take off running. Yeah, that sounded like a good plan. But what if they'd found his phone out in the driveway?

  Here is your chance, Mina. Do it.

  She took a long breath. Flashlight in her right hand, she quietly unlocked the door, mentally counting to three when something brushed against her leg. She screamed and dropped her flashlight.

  “Meow.”

  She hit poor Houdini?

  “Mina, is that you in there? What’s happening dear?” Millie’s voice had never sounded so delightful.

  NINE

  MILLIE CONVINCED MINA to go back to bed. “After all,” she explained, “it is the middle of the night, and if I leave my car parked outside the garage, no stranger will dare snoop around to look for a cell phone, not on such a dark, moonless night.”

  Maybe it was the lingering effect of the sedative, but Mina agreed to go back to bed, and the minute her head met the softness of the pillow, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  The ringing of her home phone awakened her. She reached over Aria who'd slept curled up next to her. “Hello.”

  What time was it?

  “Did you hear from your boyfriend?” Margo? Again? Her former roommate had called more times in the last twenty-four hours than in the past twenty-four days.

  “Margo, I just woke up. Why do you keep asking me about Diego? Do you know something that I don’t? Did you talk to Gino? What?”

  “If I had spoken to Gino, would I be calling you?” Mina had to smile. Margo didn’t even realize she'd just insulted her.

  “Why don’t you calm down, and tell me what’s bugging you? Talk fast because I have three hungry cats staring at me.”

  “You still have Millie’s cat? Never mind the spoiled pets. The funeral and all that stuff is over, and I figured Gino should be headed back. Well, he isn’t. He’s staying there.” Her animosity gone, she sounded sad, defeated.

  “There—where is there? Greece?” Now Mina felt the same sense of loss she had gathered in Margo’s voice.

  “I don’t know. He’s traveling by yacht.” The damn yacht again… “I think they’re headed to Italy, up the coast. Help me out, you know where—I’ve never been to Italy, to your and Gino’s town.” Fear of the unknown?

  “Margo, I get it. He’ll probably get to Venice the same day, and it’s a chance to see his family. He can catch a flight from Marco Polo airport, just outside Venice. I’m not sure if they have direct flights to Los Angeles. Did he tell you when he’ll be back?”

  “No. I could hear voices. Women’s voices in the background when he called, and they didn’t speak English. Not sure what those laughing cows spoke, but it wasn’t Italian either.” Laughing cows?

  “Do you really think that if he intended to cheat on you he’d bother to call and keep you posted on his whereabouts?”

  “Yes, he has to. I’m in charge of his beloved restaurant. I could burn the place down if he pisses me off.”

  “Dear God, Margo, don’t even joke about things like that, please.” Her headache was coming back. “Maybe he ran into old friends, colleagues. Don’t forget the deceased woman was his boss. Many of the mourners work for the same—company.” Was all of this to appease Margo’s fears or her own?

  “Can you tell your boyfriend to send him home? What is he saying? Is he also on the yacht?”

  The last thing Mina wanted to do was mislead Margo. What could she say without fibbing? Aria to the rescue.

  “Margo, I really need to feed the cats, and then I have to get to work. If I hear from Diego I promise to ask about Gino, and then I’ll call you. But really, the man loves you. How can you doubt his loyalty?” said the woman who wished Nadya Veggos a slow death every time she even thought of her.

  Margo didn’t call often, and she obviously missed Gino, needed him by her side. Mina should be more understanding, more sympathetic. What were friends for? Apparently to bring breakfast as the door joining the house to the garage opened, and Millie came in holding a tray of freshly baked, heavenly smelling biscuits.

  The minute she said, “Good Morning,” slow moving, sweet Zeus, hopped out of nowhere and acted like a crazed cat, running in circles, meowing, and rubbing against Millie’s legs. When she bent to pick him up, Mina, who was washing her hands after having fed the feline population, noticed the dark glasses for the first time.

  “What’s with the glasses? Did you hurt your eyes?”

  “Nope, made them better as a matter of fact. Yes, Zeus, I love you too.” She scratched the calico’s head. “That’s what I did on my vacation, Lasik surgery, both eyes. I have to wear special dark lenses when I’m out in the sun or under bright lights but not for long.”

  “Wow, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I didn’t want you to feel obligated to go with me or take care of me. I stayed in a wonderful hotel in Palm Desert, had an old friend, retired navy nurse, stay with me, and we had a wonderful time. We visited places where Frank Sinatra and Bob Hope used to live and play. Great old restaurants still serving martinis the old fashioned way. But eat these biscuits before they get cold. We can talk later. How are you feeling? If you’re up to it, you can walk over to the B&B. Now that we have fresh paint we may need to update a few more things. But no hurry really and I haven’t forgotten about the missing phone. There's nothing on the driveway.”

  The phone. His phone. And all the bad memories of yesterday came crashing down on Mina.

  It had to be a side effect of the fall or the sedative. Otherwise, why was she crying in her coffee? Even the homemade biscuits Millie baked tasted like sorrow. Whatever was eating at Margo’s heart must have been catching because Mina had begun to wonder whose yacht Gino was traveling on, and she had no doubt he was headed up the Adriatic Coast to Venice. And it made sense too. His sisters all lived around the Veneto region, a short ride to Piazzale Roma and then hop on a vaporetto, the Venetian version of public transportation.

  She sighed, images of her sleepy Italian town filling her mind. Her cell chimed. Her office. Fingers crossed all was fine. They must all be excited with the new arrivals, the rescued furry friends pulled from the death roll. These were the days that made everything else worth doing, and she'd missed it.

  “Morning, Linda, thanks again for your help yesterday. Guess what? Millie came back last night. I have a few things to take care of around here, trying to catch up all the hours I squandered yesterday. By the way, has anyone reported a sighting of Buddy?”

  “Well, you sound like Mina again. I’m glad. You had all of us worried yesterday. Don’t be too hard on yourself. We’ll find Buddy, that rascal. By the way, Sky sort of located Simon, Buddy’s owner. He’s out of town. He works part-time after school with some building contractor, and he took a full-time job during spring break, some resort around the Bay Area. He’ll be back by Sunday since school starts again on Monday."

  She laughed before continuing. "Wait until you see the new dogs. Such charmers. Roger is stopping by this afternoon to check them out. I have one in isolation, kennel cough.” Linda sighed. “Everything is under control, no need to worry about us. I’ll be here until c
losing if you need to reach me.”

  By nine thirty Mina's kitchen was back to normal. One thing she had to do—go see if the gardener had taken care of Kalinda’s yard and then search the grounds where she'd fallen to see if she could locate the lost phone and call Diego. She picked easy, comfy shoes, clean jeans, and a long-sleeved sweatshirt with two cartoonish cats howling at the moon and headed to Millie’s place. It was then she realized she hadn't even picked up her newspaper from the front door. A first, for sure.

  “I have to say, those old guys did a very nice job,” she said to Millie. “This is the first time I’ve seen the final results by daylight and without mountains of painters’ trash. What do you think?”

  “I agree. It turned out just as I had imagined, bright and cheerful. What did you mean by old guys? Did you not hire the same construction crew from Kalinda’s remodeling job?”

  “No, I couldn’t get hold of them. De Fiore is the only one who communicates directly with Kalinda. And he seems to really, really cherish that, so I never had a chance to ask her for a phone number or an address. All my bugging Mr. Detective didn’t do any good. Either he forgot or he didn’t care.” Millie was looking at her, and Mina realized she’d veered off the subject. “Anyway I hired Tom. You know, security guard Tom. And he gathered some of his retired friends and voila. Come to think of it, Tom was the one who first brought Buddy to the shelter. Small world, woildn’t you say?” Mina turned away but turned back when she remembered. “Oh, yes, and they saw the pic of you at the shooting range. You were a hit!” A deep breath. “I have to go check out if the landscapers took care of Kalinda’s shrubs and trees. And I may as well look for my cell phone. Hope I remember where I fell.”

  Millie spoke up then. “Wait, let me get my dark glasses. I’ll walk with you. Four eyes are better than two, especially now that I see better.”

  They used the rusty gate. Mina hoped to retrace the path her mad dash with Buddy had taken and find the precious phone, her only eavesdrop-proof direct link to Diego. When they rounded the corner from the side trail to the driveway, Mina had to admit the pruning of all those overgrown branches had made a dramatic transformation—so much so that her sense of direction was thrown off.