Chapter 7
Agonizingly long moments passed as hospital staff rushed in and out of Sonny’s room. As quickly as the hallway filled, it emptied.
Carlita’s feeling of dread grew with each person who walked past. Somber faces. Grim expressions. Slumped shoulders.
Unable to stand it any longer, she stopped one of them. “How…is Mr. Skidz?”
“Gone.”
“Gone?” Elvira clutched her throat. “As in dead?”
“I can’t say for certain, but it appears he went into cardiac arrest.”
“For having a bout of possible food poisoning?” Carlita asked incredulously.
A security guard arrived, ushering the women out of the corridor. “You’ll need to clear the area.”
In stunned silence, Carlita followed Elvira into the elevator and down to the main lobby.
“I can’t believe he’s dead,” Elvira finally said. “How could he have gone downhill so quickly?”
“I have no idea.”
During the ride home, the women threw out different theories about what had transpired. Perhaps Sonny had been misdiagnosed. Maybe they mistook a more serious condition, one involving his heart, for food poisoning. Whatever the reason, he had been alert and talking one minute and gone the next.
Elvira pulled into the Parrot House Restaurant’s parking lot and stopped near Carlita’s apartment door. “I still can’t believe Sonny is gone.”
“Neither can I. Something isn’t adding up.”
“I guess we’ll have to wait for official word. I had better let Dernice know. She’s going to take it hard. She and Sonny were friends.”
“Along with all the others who were members of the Thursday Riding Club.” Carlita thanked her for the ride and slowly climbed the apartment stairs. She stepped inside and found Pete seated at the kitchen bar, his open laptop in front of him.
He turned, giving his wife his full attention. “Well? How did it go?”
Carlita set her purse and keys on the table. “He’s dead.”
Pete’s jaw dropped. “Dead?”
Starting from when they first approached the nurse’s station, she told him what had transpired.
Having to wait to see Sonny, leaving to use the restroom but getting turned around.
Finally being allowed in to see him. “He seemed okay, maybe a little tired, and then all of a sudden.” Carlita snapped her fingers.
“He said he wasn’t feeling well and told us we should go. ”
“Did you let the nurses know?”
“We did. They sent someone to check on him and issued a Code Blue alert.”
Pete’s expression grew grim. “Not good.”
“Nope. All sorts of hospital workers ran into his room. We waited and finally they started coming out.” Carlita told him that judging by the looks on their faces, she knew it wasn’t good. “He died…something about cardiac arrest.”
“He had a massive heart attack caused by food poisoning? I find this hard to believe.”
“I agree. Something isn’t adding up.” Carlita, shaken by the tragic turn of events, meandered aimlessly around the apartment.
Pete found her standing on the balcony, gazing out at the river. He slipped his arms around her. “You going to be okay?”
“I can’t stop thinking about how one minute Sonny seemed fine and the next he’s on his deathbed.” Carlita leaned against him and closed her eyes. “I’m sure if the doctors thought there were other underlying issues, they would have run tests on him.”
“Maybe they were in the process.” Pete tried his best to comfort his wife, assuring her she wasn’t responsible for the guest’s death.
“Elvira’s employee, Yvonne, also became ill.” A frightening thought popped into her head. “I hope she’s okay.”
“It might not be a bad idea to check on her.”
Carlita promptly dialed Elvira’s number.
“Hey, Carlita.”
“Hello, Elvira. Pete and I were talking about what happened to Sonny. We’re wondering about Yvonne. Could you find out how she’s feeling?”
“I was just getting ready to give her a call. I’ll track her down now and let you know.”
Carlita thanked her, promising to keep her phone close by.
“Well?” Pete asked.
“Elvira is checking on her now.”
“While we wait, let’s go for a walk.”
“Good idea. I want to check in with Mercedes.” Carlita grabbed a light jacket and texted her daughter to let her know she and Pete were heading her way.
Rambo, taking the lead, trotted through the parking lot and onto the sidewalk. He veered left, as if knowing where they were going.
Walking at a brisk pace, they reached the Walton Square apartment building a short time later.
Savannah Swag, the Garlucci family’s pawn shop, had long since closed for the day.
Ravello’s lights were on, and as they passed by, Carlita noticed employees cleaning up after a busy day of serving guests.
Only hours earlier, they had been celebrating Luigi and Dernice’s engagement.
She had no inkling that the celebration would be marred by sick guests.
Turning the corner, the couple reached the alley. A jacked-up four-wheel-drive pickup, its engine idling, sat parked in the middle of the alley, directly in front of the apartment building’s entrance. As they drew closer, Carlita could see the tailgate was down.
“Someone is blocking the alley.”
“Bubba. I recognize his truck. He must be moving some stuff in.”
The door opened. A beefy man with broad shoulders and bulging muscles appeared.
“Hello, Bubba,” Carlita greeted him.
“Mrs. Taylor.” For a man of his size, he moved quickly, crossing the alley in a few measured steps. “I hope it’s okay if I park here. I was unloading a few boxes and figured I could do it a lot quicker instead of lugging them from the parking lot.”
“No worries.” She motioned to Elvira’s building. “We share the alley with Elvira Cobb, who lives and runs her businesses over there. I’m sure you’ll meet her soon enough.”
“Is she a short lady with gray hair and a nasally voice?”
“Yes. Although I would describe it more along the lines of a whiny voice,” Carlita joked.
“That’s the one. She asked me a bunch of questions. Who I was, if I was friends with someone who lived in the building, if I had a girlfriend. She didn’t outright ask me if I was moving in, so I didn’t volunteer the information.”
“She’s already hitting on your new tenant,” Pete whispered in a loud voice.
“She didn’t strike me as flirting.” Bubba shrugged. “But then, maybe I read her wrong.”
“She owns a security and investigative services business, so you’ll see a slew of her vehicles traveling in and out.” Carlita changed the subject. “When is your official move-in date?”
“Tomorrow. I rented a box truck. A few friends are gonna help me with the big stuff.”
“Wonderful. Welcome to Walton Square.” Carlita introduced Pete. “This is my husband, Pete Taylor.”
“Pete Taylor.” Bubba repeated his name. “Your name sounds familiar.”
“I own the Parrot House Restaurant and The Flying Gunner.”
“The pirate ship docked on the river.”
“Correct.”
“You also own Ravello’s?” Bubba asked.
“I do,” Carlita said. “Plus the pawn shop next door.”
He let out a loud whistle. “Sounds like you two have your own commercial empire.”
“Along with loads of work. I left a sheet on the kitchen counter, listing the utility companies, the cable and internet providers. You’ll also find the trolley route’s schedule. There’s a pickup spot across the street from Ravello’s.”
“I found it. Thank you.” Bubba reached across the passenger seat and pulled out a big box. “Mercedes stopped by to check on me too.”
“She’ll be your primary point of contact. However, if she’s unable to help you, my cell phone number is also listed on the information sheet.”
“Can I help you with any of the boxes?” Pete asked.
“I appreciate the offer, but I only have one more.”
“I can grab it.” Pete slid the box off the bench seat and followed Bubba up the stairs with Carlita trailing a few steps behind. The door to his apartment was wide open, revealing a living room filled with brown moving boxes.
“Pete and I will be across the hall chatting with Mercedes if you need anything else.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Bubba tipped his ball cap. “I’ll be moving my truck now.” He took off down the stairs. The alley door slammed, and it grew quiet.
“He’s very polite,” Pete remarked. “I detect an authentic southern drawl.”
“It’s charming.”
“What does Mercedes think about him?”
“She hasn’t really said. Speaking of Mercedes.” Carlita rapped on her daughter’s door.
It flew open, and Mercedes appeared. “Hey Ma, Pete.”
“We ran into Bubba. He’s moving some stuff in.”
“Lock, stock and barrel. I stopped by earlier to check on him.” She held the door. “Come on in. How is Sonny?”
“Dead.”
Her eyes widened. “Dead?”
Carlita repeated what she’d told Pete earlier. “He went from being on the mend to having a heart attack and dying.”
“From food poisoning? It doesn’t make sense, especially seeing how he was starting to recover. What about the woman, Elvira’s employee?”
“She’s checking on her. In fact…let me send her a text.” Carlita tapped out a quick text, asking if she’d tracked the woman down.
Her phone rang.
“Hello, Elvira. Any word?”
“Yeah.”
“How is she?”
“It depends on how you look at it. Do you want the good news first, or the bad news?”