Bosom Bodies (Mina's Adventures) Page 16

  “I told you it was warm outside.”

  “Margo, pull over. Park the car.”

  “What? You nuts?”

  “No, no. I have a plan. Park, please.”

  Margo shook her head and circled around slowly until she found an empty parking space.

  “What are you up to?” Margo asked.

  “I’m going back to see Diego.”

  “You’re what? And how are you planning on doing that, genius?”

  “That’s why I wore the leather jacket so no one will recognize me by my clothing. Maybe I should borrow your sweater, and…”

  “No.”

  “No, what?”

  “I’m not lending you my clothes. If you’re going back there I’m going with you.”

  “Why? I don’t want to attract attention.”

  “Mina, I know you. If they don’t let you in, you’ll make a scene. Adams made me promise not to let you out of my sight. So where you go, I’ll go with you. And let me be very clear. I think it’s foolish, and if I were in your shoes…I would do exactly the same thing. Now tell me how you’re planning to get past the cop.”

  They managed to make their way to the ICU floor without any problem. Between the elevator and the big double doors leading to the care area a lobby with comfy chairs provided a place for people waiting for news of their loved ones. Mina went to drink from the water fountain where she could keep an eye on both the elevator and the double doors.

  Suddenly the elevator opened. A young woman and teenage girl stepped out and headed to the doors. The two walked purposefully, as if they knew the routine. Mina and Margo fell into step behind them. The young woman entered a code on the keypad. The doors opened and all four women walked through. Mina’s heart bopped in her throat at the thought of seeing Diego, touching his hand, talking to him. The group of four women walked by the nurse’s station and then split. The young woman with the teenager took a left, while Mina and Margo headed straight toward the corridor with the glass walls. No cop. Oh, my God, the cop was gone. No chair either, meaning he wasn’t due back. Mina quickened her pace.

  “Hey, slow down,” Margo whispered.

  But there was no stopping her. The glass door was wide open, and so were the inside curtains. A short, dark skinned woman was stripping the empty bed.

  “Where is he?” Mina didn’t mean to sound angry, but her panic translated to a loud voice.

  The hospital worker looked up, smiled, and went back to her work. Mina noticed her nametag, Ana. “Ana, where is the man who was in this bed? It’s very important.”

  Ana smiled again and shook her head. “No comprendo.” She had a soft voice, a shy manner.

  “Damn it.” Mina felt light-headed; she could hardly control her shaking.

  “Let me try,” Margo said, but before she had a chance, a nurse entered.

  “Is there a problem? Are you ladies lost?”

  “Diego. The man who was here. Where is he?” Mina asked.

  “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. I’ve been off the last two days. You’ll need to go back to the nurse’s station and ask there. They have all the information. Sorry.” She didn’t look sorry.

  Margo grabbed Mina’s elbow and guided her out of the room toward the nurses’ station. “Mina, what’s Diego last name?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know his last name? How are you going to ask them?”

  “I don’t know. I have to find him. I’ll look in every room of this damn hospital if necessary.”

  “No, you won’t. Let me do the talking.”

  The only person behind the station desk was a young man wearing thick glasses and staring at a monitor.

  “Excuse me, sir.” Margo used her sweetest voice. “We were here to visit our friend Diego. He was in the last room down there.” She pointed down the corridor just as Ana pushed her cart out the door. “Yes, that room where that lady came out. Diego isn’t there. No one is there. What happened? Was he moved to a different floor?”

  “Are you family?” The young man asked.

  “No, sir, like I said, we are good friends.” She winked, and to Mina’s amazement, he half smiled.

  “I can’t give you details. You’ll need to talk to the family of the dece—I mean to his family. They came to retrieve—they were here earlier. So sorry.”

  Mina felt sick. Her heart pounded in her throat. What was he saying? Certainly he was confused. She must find someone else to ask. Someone in charge.

  Margo’s arm circled Mina’s shoulders as she literally dragged her out of the ICU, through the massive double doors to the elevator. “Shut up, Mina. Don’t say a word. No scene. That fool didn’t know what he was talking about. You need to call DeFiore. If nothing else, he can tell you Diego’s last name. Let’s go.”

  “Go? Where?” Mina couldn’t think. This was not possible. Diego was in that bed the night before. She didn’t dream it. Margo saw him too. Family? What family?

  She let Margo guide her to the car. Mina’s soul screamed while her face remained frozen. Margo buckled the belt on her, avoiding her eyes. They drove off the hospital parking lot, heading to The Bayside condos and Mina thought that only her body sat in the car, her heart, her soul were still back there, aching for Diego.

  “Mina, be strong. We’ll call DeFiore the minute we get to your place. I’m sure there is a logical explanation for this. Okay?”

  Mina nodded and kept looking straight ahead. She held Diego’s black helmet against her heart.

  Margo stopped at the gate, but instead of waving the car through, the security man stepped out of the guardhouse and walked over to the driver’s side. The window was rolled down. Herb stuck his head in and looked around.

  He smiled at Margo and spoke around her to Mina. “Good morning Mina, Miss Calvi. How are you? Triple A came by a little earlier and dropped off your Volkswagen. Since you weren’t home, they left the key with us.” He handed Margo a large white envelope. “It’s inside. Are you okay? You look a little—pale.”

  Mina nodded and took the envelope from Margo.

  “She was at the dentist,” Margo said, “too much laughing gas.” She stepped on the accelerator and pulled away.

  They drove into the common garage. There she was, the rag top Bug, in all her bright yellow splendor.

  Under normal circumstances, Mina would have jumped out of Margo’s car, hopped into her sweet VW, stroked the seats and started the engine, just to reassure herself she really did get her car back.

  But not today.

  Margo parked in the next space, where Diego’s bike used to be.

  Mina started to moan and couldn’t stop.

  “Don’t do that, Mina. You are freaking me out.” She got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side where she tried to take things from Mina and help her out of the car. It didn’t go well. Mina couldn’t bring herself to let go of the helmet and Diego’s leather jacket.

  Once inside the condo, it didn’t get any better.

  Mina was a zombie, and Margo grew more worried by the minute. “Mina, do you have DeFiore’s private phone number?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t remember.” Mina sat on the couch staring straight ahead.

  “Well, you better remember because I sure as hell don’t know how to get hold of him.”

  The phone rang in the bedroom. Margo ran to answer, “Hello?”

  “It’s DeFiore. Is Mina with you?”

  “Well, speaking of the devil. Yes, Mina is here, at least her body is here, as for her mind—” Margo had lusted after DeFiore a long time, but on that day she didn’t care one bit if she alienated him. “She’s in bad shape right now. What do you people mean, leaving her in the dark like—?”

  Something in DeFiore’s voice commanded obedience. “Give her the phone. Do it now.”

  Without another word, she handed the phone to Mina and sat down on the other end of the sofa.

  Mina’s eyes went back into focus as she list
ened to DeFiore. “Yes, I did…I don’t care what you told me. You are not my father.” Mina spoke in a controlled, monotonous tone. “The only thing I want from you is the truth. Plain and simple truth. No cop talk, no poor Mina can’t handle it talk. The truth.” She stopped talking and seemed to listen, her eyes closed.

  Margo didn’t know what to do. Her friend was hurting, and she could only sit by and watch.

  At some point in the conversation, Mina’s fingers relaxed, let go. The helmet rolled off her lap and landed on the rug. She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.

  She didn’t say another word, but after a while she hung up the phone. Margo had no clue as to what was said or if DeFiore was even done talking. She waited.

  Finally, Mina spoke in a low, broken voice. “He didn’t make it. He died during the night. The family picked up the body early this morning. He died alone. I was only steps away.”

  She picked up the helmet, the leather jacket and the phone and walked slowly to the bedroom. She looked very small.

  “I’m going to bed. Thanks for all your help, Margo. Pull the door behind you when you leave.”

  “What do you mean you are going to bed? It’s barely afternoon.”

  “We all mourn differently. This is my way.”

  In her bedroom she spread the jacket on the bed and lay next to it. A faint scent of mountain pine came from the lining. That was all she had left of Diego. That and the memories. Mina made sure the phone was unplugged. She could hear Margo moving around the condo, possibly straightening the mess that remained from the break in. Mina didn’t care. She wanted to close her eyes and go to sleep. She slept, woke up, and cried off and on.

  At some point she awoke in the dark. Night had finally come. The place was silent. Mina walked out of her bedroom. Margo had gone but left a note on the kitchen counter.

  Call me if you need me, otherwise I’ll see you tomorrow. So sorry for your loss.

  Sorry for your loss? Diego was never hers to start with. She knew that. He was the fun neighbor, her one night lover, the man she trusted with her life and would miss as long as she lived.

  Mina plugged in the phone, walked to her patio door, wishing for some rain. There was something about night rain that seemed to wash away the sorrows of the day. No rain. Only spiteful stars.

  She unlocked the door and walked out, barefooted. There was that low wall, one hop from Diego’s terrace. Voices drifted up from somewhere, probably holiday parties down at the yacht club.

  She straddled the wall and put her feet down on Diego’s terrace. It felt strange, like she was trespassing. The patio furniture was gone. She walked up to the patio door; the drapes were drawn. Her face against the cold glass, she tried to peek inside. All was dark and quiet. She bumped her fist on the glass, softly at first then louder and louder until, exhausted, she crouched against the door and wept.

  Chapter 22

  Did he suffer? Medically induced coma, DeFiore had said. Mina didn’t understand the meaning of it. None of it mattered now. She walked back to the low wall. Before stepping over it, she turned to look at Diego’s patio door for the last time. Then she went back to her condo.

  Her phone was ringing. “Hello.”

  “Mina, where the hell were you? I’ve been calling and calling. Is your TV on?”

  “No, Margo. I wasn’t watching TV.”

  “Well, you should. Hurry. Turn on channel five. You need to see this. All the creeps they arrested, so many crooks right under our noses, hard to believe. Are you watching?”

  “Wait, okay, I got it now. Oh, that’s Sam—my God—what did I miss? Are they talking about Diego?”

  “Nah, and they aren’t interviewing DeFiore, either. This was an investigation that crossed several state lines and started long before your moonlighting at Bosom Bodies. Look at all those scary faces. What did you miss? They aren’t naming names, just mumble-jumble about utilizing the resources of local, state and federal law enforcement agencies, blah, blah. You think Diego worked for one of the agencies? What do you think? F.B.I? C.I.A?”

  “Margo, I don’t want to talk about it. It hurts too much and doesn’t matter to me. He saved my life. That’s all.”

  “Ah, listen…Angelina and Sam are related, same father, different mothers. Looks like Sam was the rising star of this band of criminals.”

  “Dio mio, and I thought she was DeFiore’s love interest.”

  “What? Nah, she isn’t his type. Oops, it’s over. Mina, maybe they’ll have a rerun. How are you doing? Want me to come over and keep you company? Did you see I straightened up your place a little? What are you doing with the Christmas tree?”

  “Margo. Slow down. Yes, I noticed. Thank you so much. If I find the box with the Christmas ornaments, maybe I’ll decorate the tree. Where did you leave the car key? And, listen, I don’t mean to be rude. You are a good friend…”

  “Don’t apologize. I can’t take your hurt away. Only time can do that. I left the envelope with the key on the kitchen counter. You sure you don’t want me to come over?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. I’ll get myself some warm milk and wait for the late evening news. Maybe they’ll run that segment again. Good night.” It sounded so simple, get some warm milk. Wait for the news. Why must life be so hard? What happened to happily ever after? After what? She had to keep moving, stop thinking about what if.

  Mina found the envelope on the counter. Triple A was as efficient as ever. She ripped open the envelope, and the key fell out attached to a white, round tag with her license plate number on it.

  But she didn’t recognize the key. This was a brand new key, all gold and shiny.

  The Bug downstairs was hers, no doubt about that. Well, an easy question to solve. Mina went into her bedroom, put on her sweats and her shoes, grabbed her house key and took the elevator to the garage. The place felt spooky. Her surge of energy quickly waned.

  Might as well get it over with. What do you know? The car had a new lock. A lock? Triple A would install a new lock? Maybe the original had been damaged? Well, it didn’t work to start with. Okay, bless Triple A.

  She unlocked the door and sat in the car. Spotless. The ignition turned on and the Volkswagen purred. Finally, some good news. Mina turned off the engine and sat back.

  In the twilight of the garage her sadness returned. Eyes closed, she recalled when Diego drove in the back way with the mysterious black car. She sighed and inhaled a faint scent of mountain pine. It hit her hard, straight to the heart. She looked over her shoulder at the back seat, wishing to hear his voice congratulating her on finally locking her car. Then she got out of the Bug, locked it and went back upstairs.

  She threw the car key on the coffee table. I will not cry. The other side of the round key tag had her name on it. Mina Calvi. Handwritten in a very slanted, large cursive. Her breath caught in her throat. She was hallucinating. Her knees buckled; she kneeled by the table and picked up the key. It had to be his handwriting. It had to. But how? The car was left on the side of the freeway, and then she woke up at the hospital along with Diego. Could it be a cruel coincidence?

  What if it wasn’t?

  She called the guardhouse. “Hi, this is Mina Calvi, can I please speak to Herb?”

  “Huh, sorry, Miss, his shift was over at six. He won’t be back until tomorrow morning. Can I help you?”

  “No, no. You can’t. This is very important. I must speak to Herb. Can I have his home phone?”

  “Sorry ma’am, it’s against regulations. If it really is that important, I can try to reach him and ask Herb to call you. I’m not promising anything, you understand.”

  “Yes, yes, I understand. You have my number of course. Okay, I’m hanging up. Call him. Please.”

  She hung up, the car key with the nametag snug and safe in her hand. She hyperventilated. Maybe her sense of reality was slipping away. The idle wait made her crazy. She began to move boxes around, looking for the one with the Christmas ornaments. When the phone rang, she pounced.


  “Yes?”

  “Miss Calvi? This here is Herb. I—”

  “Herb, thank you soooo much for calling back. I owe you big. It’s about my car.”

  “Something wrong with your cute little Bug?”

  “No, no, is not that. It’s the key. Well, here is the deal. Are you sure the car was dropped off by Triple A?”

  “Uhh, yes…”

  “The Triple A tow truck delivered my Volkswagen?

  “Well, no. It wasn’t like that. The Triple A man—mechanic—drove the car up to the gate. When I called your condo, there wasn’t any answer. He asked if he could drive the car to the assigned parking spot and leave the keys with us at the gate. It sounded like a good idea to me. I figured you’d be happy to get your car back, no?”

  “I was. I am. Thrilled. So, the person—man who drove my car, did you talk to him? What did he look like?”

  “Well, medium-build…maybe on the short side. Dark hair, a thin mustache and very thick glasses. Miss Calvi, he was wearing the Triple A uniform.”

  “You mean like the shirt with the name tag? And how did he leave after he delivered the car? What, he walked back to work?” The shrill pitch of her voice could wake a hibernating bear. “I’m sorry Herb, I don’t mean to badger you.”

  “Aw, it’s all right, it must be lonely up on the fourth floor. That place next to you has been empty for so long. You are about to have a new neighbor, I understand. A lady. Her interior decorator and a whole crew were there working on the place yesterday. There was a lot of foot traffic. Sort of lucky you weren’t around. But yes, the Triple A man had the company shirt, said he was through for the day and a friend was giving him a ride. I saw the black car waiting outside the gate.”

  Mina sat on the floor, her back against the couch. A black car. “You have been very kind, Herb. Yes, I’m a little upset, nothing to do with you. What do you like to drink? It’s Christmas time, I would like to send you a case of your favorite brand.”