Read Online Bosom Bodies (Mina's Adventures) by Maria Grazia Swan - Free Book Online
Authors: Maria Grazia Swan
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hallucinating about the neighbor.
Wishful thinking, yes , that’s what it was , Margo’s wishful thinking.
By the time she closed the front door behind her, the sun was setting over Catalina. She had munched on junk food at the office so she wasn’t hungry . She was angry and a little scared. Okay, a lot scared. She wished she did have a neighbor, someone nice, like a father figure. She heard that expression used in one of the afternoon TV shows and thought it sounded like an endearing combination.
Maybe she could take a peek over the low wall to see if there was light on next door. This evening would be the perfect time. She was still dressed like a junior V.P. and could make a good first impression. Mina opened the patio door and walked out on the terrace without turning on the outside light, the better to snoop. Because she still wore her boots, she tiptoed to the separating wall and looked over. All was dark on the other side. She couldn’t see any boxes on the terrace or any light coming from inside. Bummer. Margo made it up.
Mina walked back inside feeling even more dejected. She paused in the middle of the room trying to think of something fun to do that didn’t require transportation.
Sex? Funny , Mina, very funny.
In the silence of her living room she heard the elevator doors opening. The hair on the back of her neck stood. Only two condos were on this floor, hers and the vacant one. She walked to the front door, her hands pressed against her chest trying to contain the beating of her heart. A soft whistling came from the other side of her door. She searched for DeFiore ’s card with the phone number. Changed her mind. On her toes , she wanted to look through the peephole . W hat if they could see her? The whistling moved away. The view through the peephole appeared distorted. Mina could only see the floor of the hall and something blue—jeans. She caught a glimpse of a boot. It was a man’s boot and something else, the whistling man walked toward the other condo’s door carrying something. The object seemed to hang knee high to the man. It looked familiar, what was it? Everything disappeared from view and then it struck her . T he man carried a motorcycle helmet.
Chapter 8
Mina sat on the farthest corner of her bed, hugging her knees to her chest, too afraid to go back into the living room. The glass door to the terrace had no drapes because the management assumed none were needed so high up and nothing should come between the view and the resident’s eyes. That was the elaborate explanation given to Mina when she called the HOA office to announce someone had removed the window coverings.
Obviously, t he management didn’t consider that the terraces were an easy hop from one other.
DeFiore ’s phone number was still in her pocket, but her pride kept her from calling. Time went by, and darkness cloaked the world outside. The TV was in the living room, the car at the police yard, she didn’t feel like reading and doubted Brian would call after the last conversation. He said their passports were stolen. What, thieves change their looks to use other people’s identities? Brian was too handsome to be duplicated and his mother—well, that was a whole different story.
Maybe she could call Ginger. With all the things happening in Ginger’s life they’d have a lot to talk about. She could tell her how sorry she was about what happened to Barbara. When she went to look for Ginger’s phone number in her dresser drawer, she noticed the scent of Boucheron floating in the room. Two days ago, she thought it was a side effect of the drug, but Margo had also mentioned the perfume.
Where was it coming from? When Mina moved out of the house, her mother ’s beautiful bottle with the blue cobalt cap went into in a box as a memory, a tiny part of their brief time together. Perhaps it had spilled out or something.
She found Ginger’s number. Was it too late to call? Too bad. She had to do something to
Wishful thinking, yes , that’s what it was , Margo’s wishful thinking.
By the time she closed the front door behind her, the sun was setting over Catalina. She had munched on junk food at the office so she wasn’t hungry . She was angry and a little scared. Okay, a lot scared. She wished she did have a neighbor, someone nice, like a father figure. She heard that expression used in one of the afternoon TV shows and thought it sounded like an endearing combination.
Maybe she could take a peek over the low wall to see if there was light on next door. This evening would be the perfect time. She was still dressed like a junior V.P. and could make a good first impression. Mina opened the patio door and walked out on the terrace without turning on the outside light, the better to snoop. Because she still wore her boots, she tiptoed to the separating wall and looked over. All was dark on the other side. She couldn’t see any boxes on the terrace or any light coming from inside. Bummer. Margo made it up.
Mina walked back inside feeling even more dejected. She paused in the middle of the room trying to think of something fun to do that didn’t require transportation.
Sex? Funny , Mina, very funny.
In the silence of her living room she heard the elevator doors opening. The hair on the back of her neck stood. Only two condos were on this floor, hers and the vacant one. She walked to the front door, her hands pressed against her chest trying to contain the beating of her heart. A soft whistling came from the other side of her door. She searched for DeFiore ’s card with the phone number. Changed her mind. On her toes , she wanted to look through the peephole . W hat if they could see her? The whistling moved away. The view through the peephole appeared distorted. Mina could only see the floor of the hall and something blue—jeans. She caught a glimpse of a boot. It was a man’s boot and something else, the whistling man walked toward the other condo’s door carrying something. The object seemed to hang knee high to the man. It looked familiar, what was it? Everything disappeared from view and then it struck her . T he man carried a motorcycle helmet.
Chapter 8
Mina sat on the farthest corner of her bed, hugging her knees to her chest, too afraid to go back into the living room. The glass door to the terrace had no drapes because the management assumed none were needed so high up and nothing should come between the view and the resident’s eyes. That was the elaborate explanation given to Mina when she called the HOA office to announce someone had removed the window coverings.
Obviously, t he management didn’t consider that the terraces were an easy hop from one other.
DeFiore ’s phone number was still in her pocket, but her pride kept her from calling. Time went by, and darkness cloaked the world outside. The TV was in the living room, the car at the police yard, she didn’t feel like reading and doubted Brian would call after the last conversation. He said their passports were stolen. What, thieves change their looks to use other people’s identities? Brian was too handsome to be duplicated and his mother—well, that was a whole different story.
Maybe she could call Ginger. With all the things happening in Ginger’s life they’d have a lot to talk about. She could tell her how sorry she was about what happened to Barbara. When she went to look for Ginger’s phone number in her dresser drawer, she noticed the scent of Boucheron floating in the room. Two days ago, she thought it was a side effect of the drug, but Margo had also mentioned the perfume.
Where was it coming from? When Mina moved out of the house, her mother ’s beautiful bottle with the blue cobalt cap went into in a box as a memory, a tiny part of their brief time together. Perhaps it had spilled out or something.
She found Ginger’s number. Was it too late to call? Too bad. She had to do something to
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