“Diego, I’m so sorry.” Mina wanted this to be a fun evening. It didn’t turn out that way. “If Alex wasn’t working for… I mean… how did she get that paper signed, you know, the one from the fake doctor?”
“Fake doctor…” Diego’s smile was sincere. “She used some information we once shared. A detail of the story was confusing. Alex told her mother she would return to Montenegro by New Year’s Day and would bring a special friend. That was the last time her mother heard from Alex. Emilia?” He let go of Mina’s hand. Suddenly, it was as if both Emilia and Diego were struck by the same lightning.
“Vittorio,” Diego whispered.
“The girl,” Emilia replied.
The power went off again.
Chapter 15
Darkness roared outside her bedroom window. She couldn’t see it, but she sensed it. Her eyes were on him, taking in every detail of his face, of that smile. Feeling the curve of his shoulders with her fingers, memorizing the tilt of his head when they kissed, the quivering of his body when they touched.
She knew.
He’d told her.
Tomorrow he would leave. He didn’t want to. He had to. Something about life or death. Not that it mattered. There could be no life after him. Her body would go on, all hollow inside.
Both would meet other people, embrace new lovers, live lives of affable loneliness, but this night was theirs alone.
“You’re leaving me.”
“You have my heart and soul. You always will.” Diego held her against him, their bodies so perfectly tuned that calling this sex felt like heresy. More like a spiritual experience, something she’d never known before.
Tomorrow there would be no goodbyes. All must be said tonight, in this room, on this bed. Come morning he would do what he set out to do, collect more information on Alex and maybe Piero’s death. Emilia would be around to point the way. He was short on time. Mina had nothing to contribute. Her participation was neither needed nor wanted. She was to spend her idle morning at the mercato, the open market, an old Friday tradition.
The three of them would meet at eleven at the caffè on the Piazza, where she’d had her cappuccino with Lola. On Sunday she would catch her rescheduled flight to the States. Diego had made the arrangements, she’d agreed.
She also promised she would not cry or ask questions. She would pretend to the very end this was a day like any other, a lovely, Italian summer day.
Diego brought his car around to the front, and was waiting when Mina and Emilia made it out the door. With a dark grey suit, light blue shirt and matching tie, he could pass for any young Italian executive. Sporting a bright smile and dark sunglasses he opened the car door for them. In spite of the ache deep inside her chest, Mina smiled back. It crossed her mind how much she would like to help him out of that GQ look. It was the first time she had seen him so formally dressed and probably the last time, too. Did he sense her despair? She knew he was looking at her, but the dark shades hid his eyes. He shifted gears; the car inched forward.
Mina insisted on sitting in back. Emilia could navigate. They pulled out of the driveway, and she propped herself between the seats, leaning toward the driver’s side. Her face was close to his shoulder. She breathed in his familiar scent. She watched the odometer click away one digit at a time. Countdown to their farewell.
“Diego, you look so… international.” Mina tried to dispel her somber mood.
“International? That’s interesting. What do you mean?”
“When I met you, you looked like a cook. Later on, you wore jeans, boots and a leather jacket. You could have been a California Harley biker. And here we are, in Italy, and you look like a proper Italian lawyer on your way to court.”
“That’s the best compliment anyone ever paid me.” He laughed. “I guess I’ve been taught well. The purpose is to blend in. According to your remark I can say mission accomplished.” He lifted a hand from the steering wheel and stroked her cheek softly.
“We’ll need to park below the piazza,” Emilia said, “because of the market all the streets to the town center are closed to motorized traffic. It’s only a short walk. How are we doing this?”
“I’m going straight to the Caserma, hoping to track down anyone who saw Alex leaving. Maybe I can get a description of the vehicle. How about you?” Diego turned to Emilia. “Can you get there when I do and try to keep whoever is manning the desk occupied? Maybe he’ll get frustrated and answer my questions just to get me out of there.”
“Why would they want to get rid of you and not me?”
“Because I have papers with fancy seals and elaborate signatures, and they’ll take me very seriously. You, well, you’re everyone’s favorite aunt, so, neither the honest ones nor the culprits will worry about you. Since no one knows who I am, or where I came from, they might try to delay me and do some checking up on me if they have time. I want you to make sure they don’t have the time. Okay?”
“Got it. Very good, very good.” Emilia nodded.
Mina felt invisible and useless. They were close to the town center. The Friday market had been a weekly event for a very long time, decades. Everyone came to it. Some came early, others later. But if one wanted to meet friends without much effort, one went to the market, picked a spot and waited. Sooner or later everyone walked by.
“Mina, it’s nine o’clock. Can you keep yourself occupied until eleven? Waiting here has to be better than sitting alone at the condo? Right?” Diego circled the car searching for an empty parking space.
“Yes. I think I’ll try to find gifts to bring back for Margo, Paco and Adams. I planned on spending a day in Venice, shopping. But since I’m leaving in forty-eight hours, this will have to do.”
Diego parked in a shady spot, and they got out. He carried the briefcase he brought with him the day before.
Emilia took Mina’s arm. “Work your way from north to south.”
“North to south? What do you mean?”
“We are parked just north of the market. Diego and I are walking to the opposite end. You’ll have plenty of time to stop at each booth a while, and we will meet at eleven south of the market at the caffè. The first one there should grab a table before the lunch crowd beats us to it. Do you have lire, Italian money?”
“I do. I do. And credit cards.”
“Mina, not many market vendors accept credit cards. This is Italy. Remember? You can get cash from one of the Bancomats. There’s one outside the bank. Do you remember where the bank is?”
Mina nodded.
Diego seemed keyed up, that edgy, tense demeanor she remembered from back in California when he was on assignment. A lethal jaguar ready to pounce.
They split up. Mina went straight to a big stall where they sold shoes. She could have sworn they were the same people who sold shoes on the same spot years ago when she used to roam the market with her grandmother. Except for the style of the shoes, not much had changed.
She only had two hours to kill—not much time at all, especially since she had no idea what to bring back for her friends. She had to get something special for Margo, or she would never hear the end of it. Plus, after giving up her last condo and putting her belongings in storage, she’d stayed at Margo’s place the week before flying to Italy. She wanted to thank Margo for the hospitality. They were going to go look for a large townhouse to share once Mina returned home. It was a practical idea that sounded like fun.
Slowly the layout of the market came back to her. She remembered where most of her favorite vendors were—the one with the best winter slippers, the one with old copper items. At one of the stands a young man shouted prices over a microphone. He was still there, not so young but just as loud. She didn’t know Margo’s shoe size, so Italian shoes were out. Maybe she could find a knitted sweater, stretchy enough to fit many shapes.
People streamed by. All ages, all sizes. What? No one worked in this town on Friday? A sense of camaraderie hung in the air. It was needed with all the pushing, shouting and b
umping into each other. Smells of fish fry and freshly baked goods wafted from the open doors of the local stores. Nostalgic memories flooded her mind, and new aches joined the old ones. She fought the urge to run and hide in a corner like cats do when they are ill.
Margo. Must concentrate on finding something for Margo. She stopped and scanned the crowd for a way to cross over to the tables on the other side and got hit on her shoulder so hard she nearly fell backward.
“Hey!” A young man caught her.
Then the blonde who’d smashed into her mumbled, “Sorry.” She stopped and looked again. “Hey, if is not l’americana.”
“Really, Lola? I’m the Americana now?”
Lola flashed her a big smile. “Haven’t seen you in so long I forgot your name—not. What are you doing al mercato? Buying shoes? You are heading the wrong way.” Her skintight emerald green dress was a knockout. She wore full makeup and spiky heels. Ready for a night at the opera, not a day at the local market, but she did get men’s attention.
Lola grabbed Mina’s arm and dragged her to an open van full of shoeboxes. “This is where you get your designer shoes, not at the same old place.” The man reading the newspaper must have recognized her. “Signorina Lanza, come va? How are you Miss Lanza? Care to take a look at what’s new? How about your young friend?”
The word young put a pout on Lola’s lips. Mina wondered why the shoes would be tucked away inside the van, in boxes, instead of being displayed to the public. Knockoff?
“No, no, grazie. Lola. I’m not looking for shoes. I need to buy a present for a friend. She is the company’s receptionist and also a good friend.”
“You hang out with receptionists?” She didn’t hide her contempt. “Well, I know the place. They sell costume jewelry and trinkets. Sometime you get lucky and they have some interesting pieces from personal estates.”
“Good. Perfect. Where is it? Margo likes large, gaudy earrings.” She almost added, “like yours,” but caught herself.
“Follow me.” Lola parted the crowd with her height and her attitude. Mina got swept along in her wake, but she didn’t care. They ended up by a large display table, shaded by a colorful umbrella. There, too, they seemed to know Lola, but they didn’t appear very happy to see her.
That didn’t stop Lola from elaborating on what Mina needed. How about that? The booth was just around the corner from the Monsignor’s home, the priest’s house. Mina checked her watch. She still had twenty or thirty minutes to spare, and the caffè was but a skip from there. What about Lola? Then she remembered. Emilia would be there and the two of them hated each other. There would be no sitting at the same table.
A young woman with long braided hair and thick glasses pulled out a bag with jewelry wrapped in soft tissue. She made room on the table and began to display her goods. None had prices.
“Orecchini, vorrei orecchini. I’m looking for earrings,” Mina said.
The woman went to get another pouch from a box and brought out some interesting pieces. Mina couldn’t tell if they were real or costume. She wasn’t that knowledgeable. However, Lola picked a piece, looked it over carefully and removed her own earring. She asked for a hand mirror, had Mina hold it and tried on the earring. She tried on several other pieces. When she put on some imitation rubies, it struck Mina that was something Margo would like—until she heard the price.
Apparently they weren’t imitation rubies but authentic garnets. Their price was more than she was prepared to spend. Lola began bartering with the braided hair woman.
Now Mina understood why they hadn’t been happy to see Lola. She was like a bull, arguing, shouting. Sweat trickled from her forehead to her cleavage as she grew louder and more animated. A small crowd assembled and encouraged the seller to give the Americana a good price.
Mina never uttered a word. She wished she could disappear. Finally, most likely out of sheer frustration, the merchant agreed on the price Lola insisted on. The group of onlookers cheered and dispersed.
Lola checked the earring she wore in the mirror once again. “Pretty, eh? Your friend is going to like them. See how business is done around here?”
Mina nodded, still too embarrassed to speak. Lola removed the garnet earring and handed it to Mina. It slipped out of her hand and fell to the ground. Mina bent down to pick it up before someone stepped on it.
“Nick,” Lola gasped suddenly, then turned on her heel and hurried away.
Mina inspected the earring. It looked perfect. The vendor had the other one and was waiting for the money. “Where did Lola go?” Mina asked.
“To hell I hope.” The woman was beyond mad.
“I’m so sorry.” She looked around. No one paid attention. The show was over. “I’ll pay you the regular price. I’m so sorry, really.”
The seller’s expression softened. “I knew you weren’t like her.” She turned her head in the direction Lola ran. “She’s chasing after a man. Business as usual for that one.”
“You don’t say?” They both laughed. The seller put the earrings in a cute blue box and counted out Mina’s change.
Nick? Why did it sound so familiar? Nick, the bartender from the California Bar and Grill. Duh! Here at the mercato? This she had to see. Mina thanked the lady and went looking for Lola.
She caught a glimpse of emerald green in motion, jogging, or trying to in those spiky heels, managing to look like a wobbling fool.
Mina quickened her pace, not an easy task in the crowd.
Lola stopped and began to gesture and carry on excitedly, but the crowd blocked Mina’s view. She couldn’t see whom Lola was talking to. Maledizione. The blonde slid the strap of her handbag up onto her shoulder, flung her arms in the air and literally threw herself on whoever was standing in front of her.
Mina stopped in her tracks. She felt like a peeping Thomasina. People between Mina and Lola walked by, pointing and snickering. And then, as quickly as Lola’s arms flung through the air, they fell back by her sides. Mina watched in disbelief as Lola Lanza, respected president of a business employing eighty-five workers, stamped her feet like a five-year-old whose favorite toy was taken away.
Show over.
If she wanted to see what Nick looked like, she’d better hurry.
Lola stood alone by the time Mina made her way through the crowd. She touched Lola’s shoulder. “Lola, are you okay?”
Miss Lanza turned, shoved Mina aside and stormed away.
Mina stood staring at Diego’s back as he headed toward the caffè.
Chapter 16
“I always know where you are. You have a special place in my heart.”
Lies, all lies. He knew she was in town because he saw her at the California Bar and Grill.
Nick the Bartender also known as Diego the Liar. What else did he lie about, what else?
Betrayal brewed inside. Her whole world came crashing down. In a few hours he would leave. Good riddance. A matter of life or death? Likely story. He would probably just drive across town to be with Lola. The two of them would laugh together about poor, silly Mina crying her eyes out for him. That’s why he wanted her on that earlier flight. Wouldn’t want to bump into her unexpectedly and cause an ugly scene.
Breathe, Mina, breathe.
But, wait a minute. Lola didn’t act like the happy lover to be. She stomped through the crowd shooting hateful stares at those crossing her path. And thinking back to what Lola said, Nick didn’t pay any attention to her at the bar. How had she put it? “Any day now, he’ll walk me out and ask for my phone number. I know it, he is very cautious, probably been burned once or twice.” He hadn’t asked for her number. He didn’t want to be with Lola. Then why did she hurt so badly, feel angry and betrayed?
Because she was jealous.
Because she knew so little about him.
Because she wanted him to stay.
“What’s the matter with you? You look hypnotized.” Emilia shook Mina’s arm. “You’re standing in the middle of the street. Are you sick? What got
into you? Yeah, I know. You’re sad that Diego is leaving. He’ll always be going or coming from somewhere. Get over it. Let’s go. He’s probably wondering where we are. Both of us are late. I had no choice. I couldn’t get away, but here you are just staring into infinity. Snap out of it. Let’s go.”
Emilia was right, of course.
“Did you find the gifts for your friends?”
Mina nodded. She followed Emilia numbly, still processing all the Nick/Diego/Lola scenario and emotion.
The caffè was packed. People stood around waiting for a spot to free up. Diego was being seated at an outside table. Mina and Emilia started toward him, but instead of waving them over, he turned away.
Emilia must have noticed it too. “Mina, let’s go over to that bookstand and pretend we’re shopping.”
A young man rushed by them, cutting through the outside patio toward the main entrance. He bumped hard against an older waiter and knocked the tray off his hand. Some of the glasses spilled onto Diego. He jumped up.
“Enzo, for Christ’s sake!” The older waiter shouted. “What’s the matter with you, wanna kill someone?”
It was Enzo. Mina recognized him now.
Enzo didn’t turn or even acknowledge the incident. He just kept on walking.
The poor waiter tried to dry Diego’s clothing with napkins. He seemed to be mumbling sincere apologies. Diego patted him on the shoulder, picked up his brief case and left. He walked past Emilia and Mina, didn’t slow down, didn’t nod.
Well, all those iced drinks ought to cool him off. That stream of thought came naturally, yet part of her felt guilty. Oh, Diego, accused, convicted and soaked. And you never had a chance to defend yourself. Yet.
Italian Summer (Mina's Adventures Book 3) Page 10
