Ashes of Autumn (Mina's Adventures Book 4) Read online

  Maybe Trabuco Canyon wasn’t it. The only place she really, really wanted to see was the cottage on Laguna Canyon, but knowing Adams would ask how many houses she looked at before making a decision, she might as well take the whole tour.

  Kathy was telling her about this well-known bikers’ and celebrities’ hang out called Cooks Corner, and would Mina like to have lunch there?

  “No, not really. I’m not hungry, and I didn’t realize Trabuco Canyon was so far away from everything.”

  “Everything? They have beautiful hiking and horseback trails. It’s a laid back lifestyle and–”

  “Precisely.” Mina’s single word said it all. “I’m sorry I made you drive all the way up here, I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it, comes with the job description. Let’s take a look at the houses. We owe that to the sellers. They probably spent hours dusting and sweeping to impress us.”

  Narrower streets under canopies of oaks and eucalyptus welcomed them after the next bend in the road. If not for the eucalyptus and the squat one-story houses, this could have been a street in her little town in Italy. Mina had no idea such places existed in Orange County. A page from the past.

  Both houses were on the same street. The pale yellow one had white shutters and a white picket fence. Various statues in different degrees of ugliness pointed the way to the front door. Inside the house smelled of fake fragrance, the plug in kind, and of wet dogs. Mina couldn’t wait to get out of there. No one was home so Kathy left her business card on the mustard-colored Formica counter top, and they left.

  The next house had a low fence built of local stones and a sturdy wooden gate. The cottage was sort of cute, powder blue with dark wood accent. The same wood showed up in the living room ceiling and provided a sense of warmth. Had she been forced to choose one this would be it. She made a mental note in case she had to argue her taste with Adams. Argue about what? Always the optimist.

  The return trip to what Mina now considered civilization went a lot quicker than getting there. By the time they reached Laguna Canyon it was about one p.m., and Kathy said their appointment was for two so they drove all the way to The Cottage on Pacific Highway, one of Laguna’s oldest and most loved restaurants. They had lunch on the side patio. Mina could hardly contain her excitement at getting to see that cute house that needed work.

  “You’ll never guess, but this Craftsman type bungalow is a lot older than the houses up in Trabuco Canyon. It’s all about good maintenance.” Kathy was talking about the building housing the restaurant. She removed the jacket to reveal a black silky top. Mina, self conscious in her jeans and oversized cotton top, figured that shimmering top must have cost a pretty penny. “Hey Kathy, where do you get your lovely clothes? You always look like you stepped off the cover of a magazine.”

  Kathy glanced at her from behind her Gucci reading glasses. “Recycled Rags.” She smiled knowingly. “It’s a consignment store down the street from my house.”

  Mina starred at her. And all this time she thought this woman was an out of control spendthrift. She had to stop judging people.

  “You’ve never been there? I must take you. It’s fun and you being so petite you’ll be able to get some terrific buys. Not sure we’ll have time today, but it’s certainly worth the trip.”

  Maybe she could get a cute new outfit for when Diego came to visit. No, no more cutesy stuff. She wanted to look sophisticated like Kathy. Stop it Mina.

  By 2:05 the Jaguar turned from Laguna Canyon road into the narrow street that would take them to the property for sale. Why must all the houses that interested her be someplace called Canyon?

  They parked on the street and walked up to the low gate kept closed by a twisted piece of rusty wire. Kathy glanced around, “There is no one here.” Then louder, “Helloooo!”

  They waited. No one answered. The place looked abandoned–playing peek-a-boo with the enormous trees sheltering part of the structure from the street. “For this I needed an appointment?” Kathy rested her briefcase on the ground, put on her reading glasses, and attempted to open the gate.

  “Move over. You’ll break a nail.” Mina took charge. Finally something she could do. Soon the wire was untwisted, and the gate opened with a groan. “Do you have the key?” She dashed ahead of the Realtor.

  “Well, look at you. What’s all the excitement? This house looks like it needs a lot of work, and we haven’t even seen the inside.”

  The cottage sat back from the road and the gate, and even further back she could see the garage with the guest quarters slash addition over the garage. She could live in the main house and maybe rent the back. If she lived alone of course, but if she was with someone–she watched Kathy unlock the front door with a key she retrieved from under a pot that once must have contained a nice plant but now only had tall weeds. The planked floor of the main room creaked loudly under their shoes. She didn’t care. It was music to her soul. Why was she so smitten by this place? Kathy managed to crack open one of the bolted windows, and a slice of afternoon October sun lit the room. To Mina it was like being little again, playing house. She rushed to see the kitchen. It was small and oddly square with tall cabinets painted white. If she closed her eyes she could almost smell the morning coffee brewing, and bread toasting, and see Diego opening the jar of Nutella like he did back in her condo in Italy. Emotions overtook her. She sighed, and felt Kathy observing her.

  “Sooo, what’s his name?” Kathy asked.

  Blood rushed to Mina’s cheeks “Whose name?” her voice caught. Busted. Damn, always Miss Transparence. What a drag.

  “My dear, I can read it in your eyes. Don’t be embarrassed. You’re not alone. I’ve learned to recognized the signs on the faces of young women in love, picturing themselves in their first home, a little love nest…hey, I was one of them. Nothing to be ashamed of. So, is he a local boy?”

  Reality came knocking. Mina shook her head, fighting the lump that choked her, and moved on to the next room.

  When she was done looking at everything twice, Kathy started the engine “Since you seem enamored with this cottage, we should drive around and check out the neighborhood.”

  “Okay.” She had to have this place. She had to. Her right hand rested on top of her purse, feeling the shape of the cell phone. If only he would call her.

  Instead of driving the way they came, Kathy kept on going uphill, they passed two houses, on the same side of the road as the cottage. Only trees defined the opposite side. Past the two houses the road went straight up, a steep incline that ended abruptly in what appeared to be a view point.

  “Well, this is not good,” Kathy said. “I guess the house is on a dead-end street. At least it’s the first one, easier to get away in case of emergency. You’re in luck. The Fire Department is maybe a mile from here. And guess what? It’s the oldest performing firehouse in Orange County. They’ll be here in a jiffy if you call for help. We may even get a break on the insurance. On the down side, if you have a party where will your guests park? If they park up here they better be wearing comfortable shoes. It’s a steep hike.”

  Mina shrugged. Nothing could make her change her mind. Certainly not lack of parking. Plus, not counting Margo and Paco, she didn’t have many personal friends. She sighed.

  “Mina, do you mind if I take the PCH back to Corona before I drop you off?”

  “Oh, oh. Checking on the kitten?”

  “Yes, and we may have time to take a look at Recycled Rags. Oh, darn, I’m out of cat litter.”

  “And I’m out of food, I ate breadsticks for dinner last night.”

  “Breadsticks? Seriously? Okay, let’s make a quick run by Ralphs.”

  “Whoo-hoo, I’m home, and I found my house.”

  “Finally, where have you been all day?” Margo poked her head from her bedroom.

  “What do you mean where have I been all day? Looking at houses with the Realtor, remember? What’s on your head?”

  “What–oh, I’m cha
nging the color of my hair.”

  Would she dare ask to what color? The last time Margo tried that she used some strong chemical product in an attempt to be a blonde. Blondes have more fun was her excuse after she literally destroyed her hair to the roots and ended up wearing a cheap wig to work for three weeks.

  “I stopped by the grocery store,” Mina said.

  “How? Your car has been in the carport all day.”

  “Kathy gave me a ride.”

  “You’re getting pretty chummy with that Kathy, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, but I found the house I want, so I won’t need to see her every day. Come down and help me put away the food. I have another bag by the front door.”

  “You’re so bossy.” She complained coming downstairs.

  They worked together to store the groceries. “What do you feel like eating? I bought some sliced meats and cheese and sour dough bread, but I also have pre-cooked frozen shrimp and…”

  “Anything to drink?”

  “Of course. You look more cheerful than last night. Any news from Bob?”

  “Hmm, this bread smells delicious, let’s have homemade submarines. And yeah, he called. Wants to see me tomorrow. Oh, my favorite wine. Good girl.”

  Margo could jump from one subject to the next faster than a politician up for reelection.

  Without waiting for Mina to be finished putting away the groceries, Margo started to slice the bread, changed her mind, and uncorked the bottle of Pinot Noir. “But that’s the last time I’ll see Bob. I decided I want a man who takes me out dancing and to the movies, and…” She gulped her wine, without pouring some for Mina. “I forgot to tell you. Remember the hunk?” Hunk? Eighty percent of the male population Margo met qualified as hunk as long as they were under sixty and could walk upright. “You know, the doorman at the house where we found the dog?” It was hard to understand her. She was chewing the chunks of bread that broke off while slicing it.

  “Oh, yes, I remember. What about him?”

  “He was the one who got shot to death when they stormed the house.”

  Mina froze.

  “He was a real bad dude.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “I sat watching TV most of the day, what else was I going to do? Anyway the reporters were saying he was a bona fide bodyguard of that silver-haired Surowiec. A mercenary body guard they said, and he got shot keeping the storm troopers at bay while his boss and his girlfriend fled.” Storm troopers? Mercenary? Maybe the Pinot Noir wasn’t her first drink. Or she’d been watching too many Star Wars reruns. “Too bad. He sure was a good looking man and obviously loyal too. Do you think they took Luce with them when they fled?”

  “Margo. None of this makes sense. How could they have fled from that house? There was only one way out, and a small army waiting for them outside the door. So, unless they were invisible or they dug a tunnel under the road, really…”

  “No, no. I’m telling you I watched this–press conference–the boss was saying they suspected that Surowiec had been warned of the raid and was gone by the time they got to the house, something about special vehicles used to escape through perilous terrain. You would have seen it yourself if you spent more time at home.”

  Better not mention her trip to Recycled Rags with Kathy. Mina rolled her eyes and poured herself a glass of Pinot Noir.

  CHAPTER 6

  “Here, sign here. That’s all we need for now.” Kathy pointed to the last page of the purchase contract.

  Adams sat and watched, his displeasure evident by the scowl on his face. After two hours of arguing against it, the great lawyer conceded. Mina didn’t take any satisfaction from it because deep down she knew all his objections had value. She also knew she wanted the Laguna Canyon house as bad as if her future depended on it. It would be a cash deal, and Kathy assured them thirty days closing was very reasonable. Mina didn’t know what all that meant, and she couldn’t wait to share the news with everyone until Kathy reminded her it wasn’t a done deal yet. The seller had to agree to the terms before they could move forward. Always something.

  Done deal or not, time to celebrate. But Kathy had to track down the seller, and Adams had a late meeting with a client. Margo. She was always up to celebrations…where could she be? Oh, she was meeting Bob to break up with him. Mina had her doubts. She knew Margo and her weakness too well. Should she go home? The traffic on the 405 South would be awful at six-thirty.

  Where were the stupid car keys? Frustrated she dumped the contents of her purse on the hood of the Volkswagen.

  “Mina, what are you doing?” Adams stood by the office door, watching her. “Aren’t you too old for those stunts?” Still upset over the house? “Margo is on the phone she needs to talk to you. I may be wrong, but it sounds like she is calling from the hospital.”

  “What?” She gathered her stuff and shoveled it back into the purse, minus the car keys that she slipped into her jeans pocket. “What happened? Was she in an accident or something?”

  Adams didn’t answer. He walked back to his office, and she followed him. He handed her the phone. “Hello.”

  “Hey Mina, since you’re still in Santa Ana, can you swing by here and give me a ride to my car?” She didn’t sound ill.

  “Margo? Is that you? You talk–different.” Mina spoke looking at Adams who paced waiting to lock up and leave.

  “Yeah, it’s me. Must be the sedative.”

  “Sedative? Where are you? What happened? Where is your car?”

  “Crap, Mina, slow down. My headache is coming back. I’m at the–shit–Western Medical Center. The cops brought us here. I’m not sure my insurance will cover it.”

  “Don’t worry about insurance. Were you in a car accident? What? Never mind, I’ll ask Adams how to get there. I’ll find you. I’m on my way. You poor thing.” She handed the phone back to Adams. “Can you give me directions? I have to get there. Do you think she’ll need a lawyer?”

  “Mina, please calm down, or you’ll have a car accident. Here let me draw you a map. It’s not too far, just off Tustin Avenue. No need to get on the freeway. Call me when you know the whole story. Okay? Let’s get out of here, or I’ll be late. Mina, she can’t be in too bad shape. She was able to call you, remember?”

  Mina nodded, thankful for the reminder. Soon she was on her way to the hospital. Maledizione, she forgot to ask where in the hospital. Should she go to the Emergency Room or the regular entrance? Who cared? It was the same building, someone would point her in the right direction. By the time she got there it was seven o’clock, and her stomach growled. The first blinking arrow she saw clearly directed her to the ER, so she ended up parking and going there. Police cars and a paramedic’s truck were parked at the curb. Wow, just how serious was Margo’s accident? She quickened her pace. How she hated hospitals. Nothing good ever came out of there. Stop it Mina. People sat around in the ample waiting room. Adults with disheartened eyes, holding whimpering children, teenagers with ripped clothing, old people hunched over. Lots of coughing. She forced herself not to stare, not to judge, and walked to the admitting desk. She explained she came to pick up her friend who needed a ride. A young female aide escorted her to the back where the emergency rooms, more cubicles than rooms, lined up. Nurses, doctors, and other personnel moved quietly along the halls. They must all have been wearing rubber soles because the only thumping noise came from her shoes. They turned a corner, and the young aide collided with a man.

  “Wow.” He struggled to find his balance.

  No! Detective Dan De Fiore. The aide mumbled some kind of apology, and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, embarrassed.

  “Hey, De Fiore.”

  “Mina? What are you doing here? Are you sick?”

  “No, no. It’s Margo. She was in an accident. How about you?”

  “Me? Oh, had to talk to a witness before he develops selective amnesia.” He chuckled, looked at his watch. “I have a few minutes to spare, let’s go talk to our accident
victim.”

  “It wasn’t an accident.” The aide blushed. “It’s the second room to the right.” She turned around and left them there.

  De Fiore shook his head. “I seem to have that effect on women. How was Italy?”

  How was Italy? Who told him about her trip? “Nice tie. Perfect for the summer,” she said, remembering his obsession with expensive ties.

  “That bad, huh?” Now he laughed openly.

  He hadn’t changed much even if they had not bumped into each other in a while. Mina couldn’t imagine why such an interesting man would still be single. He must be pushing forty, time to get hitched.

  A very thin woman with wild hair and wilder eyes came from the end of the corridor, stretching her neck to look into cubicles as she walked by. “Margo, Margo.” She called out moving swiftly.

  “Margo?” Mina couldn’t help herself.

  The woman stopped and seem to study Mina from a distance, then she literally lunged in her direction, fisted hands, raucous cry, “You’re the one, you filthy whore, what have you done to my husband?” Before she had a chance to get to Mina, De Fiore stepped in front and grabbed the woman’s hands. “Lady, calm down, you’re mistaking…”

  The so-called lady kicked him right on the shin, and Mina watched him wince in pain. But he already turned the woman around and had both her hands secured behind her back by the time security came running and took over. It all happened very fast. Mina was stunned.

  “Are you okay?” Mina sked. “I have no idea who that woman is.”

  “I do.” Margo sat in a wheel chair, by the open door of the second room to the right. “She’s Bob’s wife.”

  De Fiore massaged his leg, “That was some kick. Who’s Bob? No, wait. Let me guess. Margo’s boyfriend.”

  “Screw you too.” Margo managed to turn the wheel chair around and went back in her cubicle. They followed her.

  “Margo, what happened?”

  “Nothing, and I certainly don’t need a cop.” She gave De Fiore her version of an evil eye. He kept on smiling and rubbing his leg.