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Italian-born Mina Calvi lives in a mansion in idyllic Orange County, California with her protective older sister, Paola. Unemployed again and aimless, Mina can’t seem to find her niche in her adopted country, but confusion and restlessness soon become the least of her problems. Someone is stealing from the software business owned by Paola and her husband, losses so great the business is sinking like the Titanic. And the strange death of a company employee turns out to be murder. Then, while, facing a loss so terrible she can’t bear it, Mina discovers an old family secret that turns her world upside down. There’s some solace in the arms of her blue-eyed lover, amateur sleuth Brian Starr, but danger still stalks her at every turn, edging closer and closer as Mina tries to untangle the web of lies, adultery and treachery, and put her life back together
Excerpt:
A black Corvette
with tinted windows inched ahead in the fast lane. Could it be
Michael? Mina maneuvered the Bug across two lanes of traffic. She got
the finger from the driver she cut off in the middle lane, but she
didn’t care. The fast lane halted, and she finally caught up.
A glance through
the dark glass revealed nothing. The driver must have noticed her
maneuvering because he changed lanes in pursuit of the VW.
At first, Mina
didn’t pay too much attention. Apparently the driver wasn’t
giving up. Having the Corvette shadowing her rear bumper made her
nervous. On impulse, she pulled out at the first available freeway
exit and found herself headed for Irvine. The black car right behind
hers.
Where was she?
The street sign
read Red Hill. Oh, Okay. Now if she could figure out which
direction to go, she’d be fine. She drove in the center lane while
debating which way to turn. Both cars came to a halt, side by side,
at a red light.
From the corner of
the eye, Mina could see the passenger’s side window of the Corvette
sliding open. Stay cool.
“Hi,
baaabe.”Baaabe? Would that be what Americans refer to as‘A
wolf in sheep’s clothing'? Well, that middle age sheep-wolf
could use better clothing and--a haircut. To compensate for his lack
of hair on top, the well-fed man wore the back part of it in a long,
oily ponytail.
The old Mina would
have stuck out her tongue at him, then hit the gas. But this Mina was
wearing a business suit and--high heels. So, she simply ignored him.
He wasn’t giving up that easy.
“Whatcha doing,
baaabe?” He wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.
Mina played the
deaf-mute. When the light turned green, the man retreated back to the
driver’s side. He turned up the volume of his car radio as the
window closed.
“Put on your
red shoes, let’s dance--”
The music exploded
in her head. Oh, Dio Mio!That song. The same song she heard on
the phone, night after night.
“Mister, hey,
wait.”
The black Corvette
was already vanishing to the left in a squeal of tires. Mina gunned
her yellow rag top cutting off a motorist turning left. She wasn’t
rational. She had to know.
Now the car turned
into what appeared to be an industrial park. Mina didn’t know where
they were headed. From behind one of the buildings, she could see a
huge, colorful balloon floating in the sky. The kind used on
promotional stints, like when they opened the new Albertson’s in
Mission Viejo.
The Corvette
parked, the engine running. Mina pulled up right behind it. She got
out of her car, strode up to the driver side, and tapped on the
window. Ten seconds went by, then the glass glided open. The
sheep-wolf looked surprised, gave her a silly smile. “Yesss--” He
stared at her, in anticipation, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.
“Excuse me, is
that the radio or a tape?”
His expression
changed, “What the hell?” Without removing the cigarette he
sneered “Tape? Tape? Yeah, this is a CD. Ever heard of CDs where
you come from? You followed me here, babe, so don’t give the music
line.”
She bit her tongue,
tried again. “You were listening to a song.” Mina hummed, “Put
on your red shoes--”
“So?” He looked
really ticked off.
She didn’t care.
“What’s the title of the song? Who is singing? Where can I get
it?” She blurted it all out without a breather.
She could tell by
his glance he thought her to be a lunatic. He puffed on his
cigarette, flicked the butt through the air, barely missing her.
“David Bowie, Let’s Dance.
This is California, not Bosnia. You can get the CD in any music
store. Even at K-Mart.” He looked at her as if she were dirt
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