Bosom Bodies (Mina's Adventures) Read online

  “I’m a Bourbon man, Miss Calvi. It’s not necessary, but much appreciated, Thanks. Oh, by the way the Triple A man did have a nametag. I think it was Jim? Jon?”

  Mina cleared her throat, barely able to speak. “Joe?”

  “By golly, that’s it. Joe. Do you know him?”

  “I do, Herb. I do. Thanks. Goodnight.” She put the phone on the table, her sweaty hands shaking, her head about to explode. Diego was alive. He had to be. And what did Herb mean, the condo next to her had been vacant for so long? Her first instinct was to run next door and hit the door. She didn’t.

  This was too big to keep to herself. She needed to tell someone. She wanted to yell it to the world. Then reality set in. A nametag. Herb probably needed reading glasses, glasses he didn’t wear on duty. And he wanted to please her. She suggested the nametag, shouted the name. Her hope faded as she sat on the couch revisiting in her mind’s eye the series of coincidences and dismissing them one by one: the Triple A shirt in Diego’s closet, the black car, the handwriting. What was it they called it in those TV shows? Circumstantial evidence.

  Too wired up to sleep, Mina decided to keep searching for the Christmas decorations instead. Anything would do rather then lying in the dark drowning in her sorrow. She went to the guest closet and didn’t have to look hard. There on the floor was a box clearly labeled Xmas decorations. In Brian’s handwriting.

  Too bad she didn’t have Italian Christmas carols. Italian? She didn’t have any Christmas carols, period. Her mother used to sing a song, “Tu scendi dalle stelle”…You come down from the stars…

  That was such a nice song.

  Mina started to work on the tree and lost track of time. Most of the round balls were silver. Other ornaments came in various shapes and colors, and at the bottom of the box, in a smaller container, strings of Christmas lights. By the time she was done and plugged in the lights, night had begun to fade. The tree looked beautiful; the lights twinkled. Perfect. Only one thing missing, the topper.

  Mina sighed, remembering the antique angel she purchased that day with Margo. Poor angel, Diego took it. He was going to fix it. Clear your mind, Mina. She turned off the lights in the condo except for those twinkling on the tree and then she went to bed.

  The ringing of the phone woke her.

  “Hello…”

  “Mina? Are you still sleeping?”

  “Not anymore, Adams.”

  “Well, young lady, I thought you’d have been up for hours, reading the paper, getting ready. I’m picking you up in two hours.”

  “I don’t get the paper, and I can be ready in thirty minutes.”

  “Too bad about the paper, the whole front page is dedicated to the arrest and indictment of Samantha Perez. She’s being formally charged with the murder of Barbara Spencer. That should cheer you up.”

  “You think she did it? Killed Barbara?”

  “Mina, our justice system doesn’t take these things lightly. Why do you doubt it?”

  “It has nothing to do with doubt and everything to do with how hard it is for me to believe people are capable of such cold-hearted violence. What about poor Ginger and—Diego? When will they be vindicated?”

  “One step at the time. Ginger was killed back East. They’ll ferret out her killer or killers. It’s all part of the same organization. Someone will talk in exchange for a deal. It takes time, but it seldom fails. As for Diego, I’m not sure what happened. I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “Why? That’s cruel. Maybe he is not dead.”

  “Now, Mina, really. You’re talking nonsense. Are you on medication?”

  “No. I didn’t sleep well. Have the guard call from the gate and I’ll meet you downstairs. Two hours. Bye.”

  She wasn’t going to argue with him about Diego or anything else. It was as if suddenly everyone was speaking a different language than she. Oh, God. Brian would be back today. Was she ready to face him? This was not the way she had imagined their reunion. How could everything be so different in only a few weeks? No need to tell him about Diego. Diego, Diego, Diego. She had to stop obsessing.

  Maybe a shower would help.

  She let the warm water flow, washing her tears, her regrets.

  So, an interior decorator had been busynext doorremoving all traces of Diego, packing his clothes, his fluffy towels and that wonderful soap? She turned off the shower and dried herself.

  She went into the kitchen to make coffee and remembered the tree lights had been left on all night, or whatever was left of the night when she went to sleep.

  It put a smile on her face. Only a few days to Christmas and she didn’t have presents for anyone yet. The Mall would be packed. She liked that. It would help to distract her from her sadness. She didn’t have any real food in the house and she didn’t care either. The coffee would do until they got to L.A International.

  What should she wear? Everything she did was at a snail’s pace, her only goal, to make the day be over fast. Finally, she was ready, wearing the same grown up suit she wore for the first meeting with the investors. She sat on the couch, waiting for the call from the gate and staring at the Christmas tree. Maybe leaving the lights on around the clock wasn’t such a good idea, better to unplug it while she went to the airport. The last thing she needed was to cause a fire.

  She walked over to pull the plug from the socket and noticed something outside on the patio by the sliding door. Looked like a paper bag. Something the wind blew in?

  She opened the door just enough to reach down and grab the bag. It looked sort of familiar. There was a small, square box inside. Her heart hammered against her chest, she tiptoed to the low wall and peeked over, hoping, wishing. Everything appeared as deserted and dead as the night before. Now Mina felt uncomfortable. Was someone watching her? She walked back into her condo and locked the patio door behind her. What was in the box? Should she open it or give it to DeFiore? DeFiore? Really? Hello, paranoia. She tore the box open, and her cross-eyed, antique angel, landed on her lap. Oh, my God…

  She fought the urge to run outside and look for Diego again. No one would be there.

  Instead, she got up and gingerly placed the angel on top of her Christmas tree. Mina stood back. The angel with the gold colored hair looked perfect, no trace of having been glued back together.

  Buon Natale Diego, wherever you are. She wiped her face with the back of her fist.

  The phone rang. Time to go meet Brian.

  The End

  About the Author

  Italian born like the heroine, Maria Grazia Swan is happiest when she gets to write about anything Italian. She is the award winning published author of Love Thy Sister and numerous short stories and magazine articles.

  She lives in Phoenix, Arizona where she sells real estate while working on her next novel.

  To learn more about the author visit www.mariagrazia.tv