Bosom Bodies (Mina's Adventures) (4 page)

She sat, like she had many times before, praying the phones wouldn’t ring, because emotions filled her throat and her soul. She laid her head on her arms resting on the desktop, thinking about the past.
Any minute now the front door will chime, and Brian will walk in with a smile on his face and a bag of muffins from Columbo’s. Paola
will call us into her office, and we’ll joke about Brian spending too much time around West Coast Software instead of studying.

Paola’s office was now Paco’s. Mina ran her fingertips under her eyes, careful not to smudge the mascara. Where was Paco?

Just then the front door did chime, and Paco came in with Adams, each holding a cup from Columbo’s. The physical difference between
the two always made her smile:
Paco burly and on the short side of tall, to Adams thin and tall, with hair as white as sand by moonlight.

“You bring me something?” Mina smiled.

“We didn’t know you were here. Where is Margo?” Paco looked toward the ladies’ room and rolled his eyes. “We’ll have the meeting in my office. Let’s make sure there are enough chairs.”

They headed toward Paco’s office when the main phone on Margo’s desk rang. Mina hesitated for a second before turning back to answer. “West Coast Software, may I help you?”

“Mina, is that you?” It was Brian. “Mina, can you hear me okay?”

Mina plopped into the receptionist chair and cupped her hand around the mouthpiece.

“Oh, Brian, I have been so worried, how are you, where are you, is everything okay?” She blurted the whole sentence without pausing or inhaling.

“Mina, slow down.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m fine. Mom is fine. Things are a little hectic. We’re still on the road. There was a problem with the bus in the middle of nowhere. That’s why I didn’t call before.”

“I miss you so much. The investors are going to be here any minute. I want to talk to you. How many hours difference is there? Eight, nine? Can I call you when I get out of here?”

“I can’t give you a number to call me until we get to the hotel, and right now we are stranded in the countryside waiting for a bus to replace the one that broke down.”

Before Mina could say anything else, a group of men walked into the reception room. The door to the ladies’ room swung open. Margo’s special men-searching radar must have gone off. She rushed to her desk, a flirty look on her face.

“May I help you?” She smiled at the four Asian visitors.

They all wore suits and a stern look. Well, not all. One of them, the one who looked younger, bowed slightly and announced in perfect English they were there to discuss business.

“Brian, so sorry, got to go,” Mina whispered into the phone, “love you,” then hung up.

She followed the investors into Paco’s office, ignoring Margo’s disappointed expression.

Decisions, decisions. The whole day seemed to come down to a series of decisions:
what to wear to the office, what to say during the meeting, who to trust the most, to sell or not to sell. Mina sat through the hour-long bartering. Of course, everyone spoke in civilized manner and no one expected this first gathering to produce final results. More information would be collected and exchanged, and another meeting was scheduled for the following week.

Sadness shadowed her heart when she started the engine of her
1978 Beetle
after the meeting.
Would her mother really have approved of the sale? Mina’s business knowledge was so limited she felt compelled to do nothing but sit pretty and listen to the conversation with great diligence. Maybe she would get a sign from her mother, anything to put her mind at ease and believe this was a good move.

She stopped to buy groceries and realized she
f
orgot to make a list. What list? Only coffee and milk were left at the condo. She needed everything. Even the shampoo was all gone. Brian liked her brand of
shampoo;
he loved to bury his face in her fresh
ly washed hair. Sweet Brian was
strand
ed somewhere, with his mother, a
nd Christmas just weeks away. The Christmas Boat Parade of lights would be starting this week. Maybe she would get a cruise ticket and…no, not alone.

Mina slammed on her brakes, made a sharp right and parked in front of a Ralph’s grocery store.
Bite the bullet, Mina.
A
nother fascinating Americanism. She didn’t even own a gun;
where would she get a bullet?
Besides, biting a bullet would probably result in a broken tooth. Who ever came up with that idea? A dentist?

By the time she put away her shopping, it was
time for
happy hour at Bosom Bodies.

Better hurry up, she had to get there before Barbara signed off for the night.

The uniform and bra were still a little damp. She dried them with the hair dryer, folded everything nicely, placing the
small pile
in one of the Ralph’s empty paper bags, grabbed her keys, and climbed back into her rag top. Last trip to the so-called restaurant.

She crossed the gate, leaving the dark condo complex behind. The CC&Rs did not allow for Christmas lights, something about fire danger. Mina hadn’t given much thought to that until now. She was glad she only signed a lease-purchase instead of buying the place outright. Maybe she wasn’t Bayside Condominiums material.

She drove along, aware her car smelled of clean hair. Nice. Where should she park once at Bosom Bodies? The back lot was
only
for employees,
who
she no longer was—okay, she never really was an employee. She would park in front, like a customer. What if someone recognized her car in that place? Mina was still trying to decide when she pulled up in front of Bosom Bodies. Happy hour or not, there were hardly any cars parked
there
. What? Everyone went on a cruise with the Christmas boat parade?

A green sedan caught her attention.
Maledizione.
Detective
DeFiore
again? She hadn’t seen him in months and now twice in twenty-four hours? What was it with him? She never pegged him for a
b
ig
b
oobs kind of guy. Maybe all men were big boobs men given the opportunity.
You asked for it, Mr.
DeFiore
. Mina coasted her Bug right next to his car, picked up the bag with the clean-hair-smelling
clothes, and marched up to the main entrance of Bosom Bodies. The double door was locked tight. A sheet of white paper with a hand scribbled message was duct taped to the glass part.

Closed for the night due to our manager’s passing. We will be open tomorrow during our usual business hours.

Manager
’s
passing?
Barbara? Passing?
Mio Dio
. That meant dying. Barbara dead? How? Mina stood holding the paper bag with the
Bosom Bodies
uniform in one hand, her other hand on the door handle, her mind blank. The handle turn
ed
under her fingers. The door opened about a foot, and Lisa’s disheveled head appeared.

“Ginger? I didn’t recognize you. The policeman wants to talk to you. Hurry
. C
ome in
side
. I need to lock the door.” She grabbed Mina’s arm and pulled her in, closing the door behind her. Few lights had been turned on, and Mina’s eyes had to adjust to the twilight-like mood.
DeFiore
and Diego sat in one of the booths along the wall. The fake candle on the table cast strange shadows on the men’s faces. They both looked at her. She felt exposed and vulnerable. She also felt guilty and had no idea why.

DeFiore
motioned her over. Mina reacted as if thousands of disapproving eyes watched, while well aware less than a dozen people were in the room.

She walked by a table and recognized the woman she served drinks to the night before. Was the woman cop talking to Angelina
DeFiore
's partner? Aside from the t
wo
cops
, Diego
and Angelina, who appeared to be crying, Mina didn’t see any familiar faces among the rest of the women wearing the
Bosom Bodies
uniforms. They looked out of place in this dark, silent restaurant.

“Sit down.”
DeFiore
wore a charcoal suit and a light grey silk tie with tiny, brownish reindeer on it.
Nice seasonal touch
. Mina remembered his fondness for imported ties. He looked her over, taking his time. His Asian eyes made it difficult to guess his frame of mind. “S
o, who are we today? Mina Calvi?" H
is glance slid to Mina’s shoes
. "O
r Ginger?
"

She caught his appraisal, and her stress let up.

Mina scooted into the booth beside
DeFiore
, across from Diego. “It depends. Who are you today? The detective investigating a death or a hungry customer looking for a fulfilling meal?” She mentally patted herself on the back for thinking of the word
“
fulfilling.
”

His grim smile gave her the answer. He was there because of Barbara’s death, but why was Diego sitting with him? Was he going to listen in?

Her stress rose again. “What happened?”

“Don’t start. I ask the questions. How about you explain the Ginger charade? I know it is not because you need the job, so what gives?”

Mina looked at
DeFiore
and then at Diego.

“He is staying,”
DeFiore
said.

Maledizione.
“Why? Because he is the only male employee?”

“No, because I like his fulfilling cooking.”

Double damn.

Diego never uttered a word, and yet his presence disturbed Mina in a physical way that annoyed her to no end. She hoped
DeFiore
didn’t pick up on it.

She went over the whole scenario, Ginger’s wedding in Vegas, Mina substituting for her so she wouldn’t lose the job.

“What’s the connection between this Ginger and Barbara Spencer?”

“I dunno. I met them at the gym. Ginger taught yoga, and Barbara showed up for the same classes I did.”

“Does Ginger have a last name?”

“Miller. Her last name is, was Miller. She is married now. She is driving back today, maybe she is already home. You think Ginger knows about Barbara? When did she die?”

“We don’t know yet.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? Is this some kind of a joke?”

“Her body was discovered this morning by two boys combing the beach with metal detectors. There was no I.D.
on the body, but we located a car not far away.
Going b
y the sand and the marine layer
residue, it hadn’t
been moved since yesterday. Her wallet with her driver’s license and other personal items were found inside. We think she was jogging south of Corona Del Mar when a car hit her. The impact sent her body rolling down the steep hill. She landed on the beach below.”

“Yeah, she likes to jog,” Mina said to herself. She couldn’t think of anything else. This was senseless. She tried hard to concentrate on Barbara, a woman she hardly knew. Did she have kids? Pets? A lover?
Mina had no idea where Barbara lived. The gym was in Mission Viejo,
Bosom Bodies
in Balboa. Miles apart.

“We're gathering information, trying to establish a time line. Apparently Sunday was her day off, and no one here has seen her since Saturday. How about you?”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“I didn’t see her Sunday, or Saturday. She was gone by the time I got here.”

“Whose idea was it for you to dress as Ginger?”

“Both, Barbara and Ginger. I thought it would be fun. I’ve just moved. Anything to keep me from unpacking.”

Diego hadn't budged or spoken. What was he thinking?

“How do you like your new place?”
DeFiore
must have run out of police questions.

“It’s okay. I guess. I don’t know.” She shrugged, fidgeted with the buttons of her fitted jacket.

“Hard day at the office?” Diego asked.

He startled her. She turned to look at him, and he winked. Not a smile, just a wink.

“Mina, you and Ginger will have some explaining to do to whoever is going to be in charge of this joint. Can you think of anything that can help us? We need to catch who did this.”
DeFiore
said.

“You don’t think it was an accident?”

“No one stopped to help her or called for help or reported an accident—what do you think? Apparently no one has missed her, either. Do you know if she has family?”

“I don’t even know where she lives. I cancelled my membership to the gym when I moved. Haven’t been back to Mission Viejo in weeks.”