Ashes of Autumn (Mina's Adventures Book 4) Page 3

  Kathy turned into a side street, other side of the ocean. The street had the name of a flower and went uphill.

  Small, old-fashioned cottages lined both sides of the road. In spite of the small lots, there was no sense of crowding, and each home appeared freshly painted, had luscious green front yards, and plenty of flowers. The whole thing reminded Mina of the gingerbread houses children decorated around the holidays. Kathy parked the Jaguar in front of a light blue one-story house. The narrow driveway went all the way to the back where Mina spotted a one-car garage. She watched the Realtor unlock the front door that opened into a cozy living room with wooden floors and overstuffed furniture.

  “Where is Mommy’s little cutie kitty?” She spoke the way mothers do to their babies.

  Turn it in to the Orange County Humane Society? Yeah, right.

  “Meow, meow.” The dark gray tabby poked its pink nose from under the couch then shyly walked into the living room, stopping along the way to stretch. Kathy picked it up and cradled it like a newborn, carrying it toward the sunny kitchen. “Little cutie baby wants a bottle?” she cooed.

  Mina sat on one of the overstuffed chairs. Did Kathy live alone? She had to, the place looked spotless, like a model home. Not that it meant much. Mina thought about the time she lived alone at the Bayside condos. Her place was a total mess, She didn’t even unpack for the first three months.

  Kathy came back and sat on the couch still holding the kitten. She held the bottle, and the cat began to suck on the small nipple.

  “You look like a pro. What’s its name?” Mina asked.

  Kathy kicked off her high heels. “No name. Don’t want to get attached in case we locate the owner. I bought a cat nursing kit at the pet store. It comes with four large cans of formula, or whatever it’s called. No, never had cats. We had a dog, but it died about ten years ago.” She looked toward the stone fireplace.

  Mina followed her glance and noticed a large picture in a silver frame on the fireplace mantel. A young couple with a long-haired dog that looked like Lassie, the movie dog, sitting in front of that very house, only it wasn’t painted the same shade of blue. “You’re married?” Why did she ask that? It wasn’t any of her business.

  “Was.” Kathy’s voice dropped an octave, and her whole demeanor morphed into an older, sadder version of herself. Great Mina, keep asking stupid questions. Mess with people’s lives.

  “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to stick my nose where–”

  “No apologies needed. I was married to the love of my life.” Her eyes wandered again toward the framed photo. “A drunk driver.” She spoke in a dreamlike state, and Mina could tell the story had been told many times before. “David,” she nodded toward the pic, “was driving me to the hospital. I was in labor, ready to give birth. It was right after midnight. We never made it. We got hit just as we entered the P.C.H. David died instantly. I survived but lost my baby. It was a little girl. We were going to name her Desiree. She would have been eighteen in November.” She turned her glance away from the fireplace and wiped her cheek with her free hand. “The collie in the portrait is Maui. We spent our honeymoon there and got the dog when we came back. Maui passed ten years ago. And now it’s just me, holding down the fort.”

  The kitten was done eating. It snuggled up against Kathy’s bosom, the picture of complete trust.

  CHAPTER 4

  “Where have you been all day long?” Margo called out from upstairs.

  “Looking at houses with Kathy.”

  “Who’s Kathy?”

  Mina climbed up the stairs to Margo’s room before answering. “Oh, that’s cute.” She pointed to a red silk scarf Margo draped over a beige lampshade.

  “It makes the room rosy, much more flattering to my complexion. So, who is Kathy?” The TV was on but with the sound off. One of Margo’s annoying habits. Mina found that to be a waste of electricity.

  “Kathy O’Sullivan, my Realtor.”

  “The witch?”

  Mina flushed. She had called Kathy a witch. ”I misjudged her, she turned out to be a very nice person. How come you’re home so early?”

  “It’s inventory time at West Coast Software, and I wasn’t needed. Bob is working overtime, some out of the county deliveries, so here I am. Besides, two more days and I’ll be free all day, every day.”

  “Are you going to look for a new job?”

  “Maybe. Maybe I’ll take a few weeks off and spend time on myself.”

  Mina shrugged. “Oh! What do you have in mind?”

  “I don’t know.” She pointed to her hips. “A little liposuction here, some enlargement there.” Now she cupped her breasts.

  “Are you nuts? What got into you? You look fine. It’s not like you don’t have men chasing you all the time.” Unlike me. She didn’t say it out loud but she’d felt depressed ever since witnessing Kathy’s loneliness in that perfect home where she obviously spent her non-working hours alone if not for the unnamed kitten.

  Waiting.

  For what? Death?

  If only Diego would call, maybe she wouldn’t feel so alone. She couldn’t blame him for her misery. He kept reminding her to move on as he had no future to offer.

  “Men. See? That’s the problem. They chase me, but once I’m caught, they set me free.” Margo studied her left hand, the naked fingers.

  “Oh, come on. What did Bob really do? Spit it out. I know you well enough to sense something else is bugging you.” Some people in fancy clothing were dancing on the screen. Without the sound they looked like fools. Mina sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m not leaving your room until you talk to me.”

  “I need a drink. It’s almost five o’clock. Happy hour.” Margo sounded anything but happy.

  “Stay. I’ll go get us something. When I come back I want the truth.”

  Margo stared at the mute television screen as if it was the stage of the Hollywood Bowl.

  Margo was right it was five o’clock, except for the cappuccino and biscotti at Kathy’s office the only other food of the day had been a cup of soup and a salad at a Marie Calendar’s on the way to look at a neighborhood in Lake Forest. She hadn’t cared for the neighborhood, and the soup and salad wore off hours ago. There wasn’t anything appetizing or even edible in the refrigerator. She couldn’t even remember the last time she went grocery shopping.

  “Margo.” She called out from the bottom of the stairs, “You hungry?”

  “No. Thirsty.”

  She found some stale grissini, extra thin Italian breadsticks they purchased weeks ago with the grandiose plan of a pasta night. The pasta was still in the box and would probably be there a month from now. The bag of grissini landed in her pocket. She grabbed the almost empty jar of Nutella, the half full bottle of Prosecco, and two clean glasses from the dishwasher and went upstairs. Some neighbor must have been barbecuing something in the common area. The aroma of meat grilling drifted through the open second story window, and Mina’s stomach growled.

  Margo had not budged. Mina set the wine and glasses on the night table, kicked off her shoes, removed the grissini from her pocket, and sat on the bed Indian style.

  “What are you doing?” Margo snapped out of her state of contemplation.

  “Eating.”

  “On my bed? What are you eating?”

  She opened the nearly empty jar of Nutella, pulled a breadstick from the bag, and after scraping some Nutella with the tip of the grissino, she ate it.

  “Mina, you’re dropping crumbs all over my bedspread.”

  “Relax, let’s pretend we are having a picnic, and that when we leave busy little ants will clean up the crumbs.”

  “Really, so what should I do? Sleep in your bed while the ants clean up?” Margo also dipped a breadstick in the jar, annoyed when no Nutella landed on it. She followed Mina’s lead and scraped the side of the jar. “Hummh, not bad. Is this dinner Italian style? Oh, wait.” She poured the Prosecco in the glasses and handed one to Mina.

  “A toast to all the
fucking, cheating men and the stupid women who love them.”

  “That bad, heh!” They drank then went back to scraping the jar of hazel nut spread with the breadsticks that kept on breaking and crumbling on the bedspread.

  “Bob was supposed to spend the evening with me. He called at the last minute, and I don’t buy the overtime for a second.”

  “Why? Has he pulled that on you before?”

  “No. There is something odd about his behavior. We never go anywhere. We meet after work and make out in his van.”

  “His delivery van? Ewww. Are you kidding me?”

  “No, that’s all we do. He has a sleeping bag he keeps rolled up under his driver’s seat.”

  “Oh, you poor thing. That’s what the liposuction and the breasts is all about? You think he doesn’t take you anywhere because you aren’t good enough? Margo, you are one hundred percent better than that Bob, than any Bob for that matter. He sounds like a jerk. Are you sure he isn’t married or something?”

  “No. I asked him.” They looked at each other and laughed. Both had met married men who lied about their status. They emptied the bottle of Prosecco while comparing some of the common lies married men like to tell.

  “I’m getting too old for making out in the back of a car,” Margo said. “I would like to meet someone I can settle down with and depend on. You know what I mean? We both need a new man, a new love.”

  Mina didn’t answer. If she did, she might cry, and that’s not what Margo needed to see. She got off the bed, stretched. “I have to go take a look at the information Kathy gave me.”

  “You don’t know what kind of place you want? Why didn’t you like that condo you had, you know, where you met the weirdo Diego who pretended to be dead but maybe wasn’t.”

  “Margo. He wasn’t–isn’t a weirdo, and he didn’t pretend. Let’s not go there. Plus, I don’t want a condo. I want a house, a little house with a yard. I meant to ask you, if I can find one big enough would you want to be my roommate?”

  “What do you mean big enough?”

  “You know, two bedrooms and two baths so we don’t get in each other’s way?”

  Margo didn’t look too enthusiast, “And where would this house be?”

  “I don’t know yet. That’s what I’m supposed to do now, look at some of the locations and the listings of houses by size, prices, and of course, location. Then, as usual, Adams has to approve. What a drag. Well, think about it. See you in the morning.”

  “Hey, not so fast. What about all these crumbs?”

  “Ants, remember?” Mina mimicked walking with her fingers while stepping away. The flying pillow barely missed her.

  Once again she sat on the bed, this time her own and started to sort the pages Kathy had given her. Each page showcased one house. Some were in Trabuco Canyon, Kathy even gave her the brochure of a house for sale two streets from her own, but Mina didn’t think she would feel at home in that upscale neighborhood. She liked the character and the fact that the homes were old and unique, but she couldn’t see herself keeping her place looking like a dollhouse all year around. She knew her limitations.

  One of the pages had a star drawn on. Kathy? She sure knew how to capture Mina’s attention. It was a house in Laguna Canyon. Mina often drove through the Canyon on the way to Laguna Beach. She remembered small houses, very different, some perched up the steep canyon, others on stilts. She had assumed that artists and artisans lived there since it was just a skip up the road from the home of the Sawdust Festival. What a coincidence, she had visited the festival in July, just back from Italy.

  This felt like a good omen. The more she thought about it, the more she loved the idea of living there, close to the beach and also to the main freeways. The place looked abandoned and in need of a good yardman. She examined the few pictures that came with the description. The mature vegetation seemed to overshadow the cottage. Built in 1955? Whoa! She wasn’t even born back then. Heck, her mother was just a baby. The house had two bedrooms and two baths, plus a guesthouse in the back attached to a one-car garage. The listing sheet went on to say it needed upgrading but would make a perfect first time buyer’s home. She marked it as a must see.

  “Mina, Mina, come see, hurry.” Margo sounded frantic.

  She rushed over, scattering the pages all over the floor, “You okay? What’s…”

  “Shhs, quiet. Come listen.” She pointed to the television where a banner on the screen announced breaking news. The images were taken from a news helicopter. What were they saying? Topanga Canyon? “That’s him, that’s him. Recognize him?” Margo shook from the excitement.

  Mio Dio. She was right. The face on the screen was that of the man–the owner of the house on the mountain…what was his name? Surowiec.

  Diego. Always chasing danger. It had to be him she saw that day. She sat on the bed, feeling like she couldn’t concentrate. Hoping to learn more. Why all the commotion? They showed the house from above, the expanse of land surrounded by that massive wall, a glimpse of blue pin pointed to the pool. The pool. Clear your mind, Mina.

  …wanted in three countries…arms smuggler…merchant of death…were they talking about Surowiec? How was that possible? He looked like such a nice man…Several casualties…no, God, no. Not Diego…the helicopter disappeared, the regular program came back on…

  Stretched on her tummy, hugging her pillow, Margo starred at the screen, transfixed. “Who would have known? You missed the blow up…”

  “Blow up? What blow up?” her voice shaky.

  “Apparently they blew up the gate or something. The commentator was saying that it was built like a fortress, and some of the people got away. What do you think happened to that cute little dog? You know–the one we rescued.”

  “Luce? I don’t know. I’m–stunned. We were just there, what? Five, six days ago? ”

  “Were we lucky or what? Suppose the cops, or whoever they are, attacked while I was peeing, and my new car would be dust, scrap metal… do you think my insurance would–”

  “Margo, shut up. This is big. There were many people there. You didn’t see them all–by the pool.” Why was she mad at Margo? Margo didn’t know about her suspicions, about Diego’s presence. “What I mean is, maybe some innocent people got caught in the middle…what else did they say?”

  “Not much. I think it’s getting too dark to get a good shot. How can they tell the good guys from the bad ones in the dark? Do you think the hunk who opened the door was good or bad? And how about the blonde? The doggie’s mom?” Margo’s chatter was getting to her.

  Please, Diego, call me. She needed to be alone, hide her fear. Margo was right, how do you tell the good guys from the bad in the dark? What was that saying? In the dark all cats are black. If only there was someone she could contact. Maledizione.

  She felt helpless. A phone rang in her bedroom. She jumped even though she knew it wasn’t Diego’s phone.

  “It’s probably Kathy. Call me if they have more reports.” Mina went to answer the phone.

  CHAPTER 5

  Kathy, in a royal blue suit with silver buttons and black trim, came by to pick her up around ten a.m. She said people didn’t like prospective buyers snooping around too early in the day. While Mina wasn’t much of a morning person, today she had no objections since she hadn’t slept anyhow. The story about the house on the mountain and the chance of Diego being involved in some way, kept her tossing and turning, sidestepping the thought that the dark haired beauty could also have played a role in the mess. She even clicked on the television in the middle of the night hoping for new information. All she found, on every channel, were infomercials. She paced and went downstairs for ice water. On her way back up she heard Margo snore. Lucky Margo, didn’t let a little tiff with Bob ruin her sleep. By nine a.m. Mina had showered, made herself some strong coffee, and even dabbed a little foundation under her eyes hoping Kathy wouldn’t notice a thing. If she did she kept it to herself.

  First stop of the day, Trabuco Canyon whe
re they would check out the first two houses. Mina had no clue as to where Trabuco Canyon was. But she liked the sound of the name. So Italian…so…ancient.

  “Do you know where the canyon’s name comes from?” Kathy asked. Was she reading her mind?

  Mina shook her head. “Something to do with Italians?”

  Kathy laughed and patted Mina’s arm, “I’m afraid not. Trabuco is Spanish for blunderbuss.”

  “Blunder what?”

  More laughing. “Blunderbuss is a type of shotgun used by the Spaniards at the time of the Missions. The story says that the shotgun was lost in a canyon by the Spanish expedition and never found. So the canyon became known as Trabuco Canyon, because of the lost blunderbuss. Sorry to disappoint you. Nothing romantic or Italian.”

  They reached El Toro Road and headed east. When they passed directional signs to the Marine Corps Air Station, Mina couldn’t help but think about Diego. Why? He never mentioned the place or the marines. Who was kidding whom? Anything and everything made her think about him. He was so much a part of her, embedded in her soul.

  Even with the Jaguar’s flawless ride, she realized Trabuco Canyon was a long way from her familiar stomping grounds.

  “Mina, these two houses are priced lower than Adams’s budget, however you’ll need to allow for improvements because of the age.”

  “Age? In Italy we have one hundred year old houses that are better built than some of today’s papier-mâché mini mansions.”

  Kathy must have found that entertaining because she chuckled. “Exactly, you’re comparing stone-built to stucco houses. And don’t forget, air conditioning wasn’t yet invented when these 1930s houses were built.”

  “1930? And why do they need air conditioning?”

  “Mina, we are inland. Summer days can be hot and humid. You don’t have the ocean breeze up there.”