Chapter 15
After a restless night of tossing and turning, Carlita, with Rambo by her side, set out for an early morning walk. Patches of fog gave way to bright sunny skies, exactly what she needed to lift her spirits. She reminded herself everything would turn out all right. It always did, one way or another.
Making a sharp right, she and her pup strolled along the river, walking all the way to the riverfront district.
Although the busy holiday season was right around the corner, she and her pup had the popular path meandering through Morrell Park, past the iconic Waving Girl Statue, to themselves.
Pete had already left for work, which was a common occurrence. Like Carlita, juggling multiple businesses was a full-time job. But soon…soon the couple would step back, slow down and let others handle the day-to-day operations. At least this was the plan.
Returning home, she fixed a cup of coffee and ate a bowl of cereal. She swapped out her sweatpants and T-shirt for work clothes before making the trek to Ravello’s.
The restaurant, nearly empty except for an employee who was prepping for lunch, was the perfect time to go over inventory and order supplies. Carlita had almost finished when she heard the jangle of keys.
Steady steps echoed, and Arnie rounded the corner. “Hey, Carlita.”
“Good morning, Arnie.”
“You’re here early.”
“It was a rough night. I figured I might as well get some work done since I couldn’t sleep.”
Arnie’s eyes filled with sympathy. “I bet it was. Any news on Mr. Skidz’s death?”
Carlita brought him up to speed, telling him about the news story Mercedes had found online the previous night. “They even included the recent inspection report listing the minor violations.”
“Was it a breaking headline story?”
“Fortunately, it was buried near the bottom of their website so maybe most people missed it.” Carlita crossed her fingers. “At least I’m hoping this is the case.”
Arnie hung his keys on the hook and settled in at the desk next to her. He opened his laptop and began tapping the keyboard. “Great.”
She stopped what she was doing. “Great in a good way or great in a bad way?”
“This.” He turned the computer, showing her his email inbox. “Look at all of those emails.”
“Spam?”
“I dunno.” Arnie’s brows knitted. “The Parks Department cancelled its booking.”
Carlita’s heart skipped a beat. “For their annual Blizzard Bash?”
“Yeah. A hundred guests. Gone.”
A sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. “So I guess the story wasn’t as buried as I had hoped.”
“Here’s another cancellation, this one from the Savannah Bananas.”
“The monthly manager’s brunch?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Arnie listed a few more cancellations, none giving an explanation other than to say their plans had changed.
“This is awful.”
“And getting worse. Another cancellation just came in.”
“I ought to sue Channel 2 for libel,” Carlita fumed.
“Channel 2, you say?” Arnie switched screens and typed Channel 2 and Ravello’s into the search bar. The news story popped up. He clicked on the link. “I hate to say it, but it’s pretty much a hit job, although they don’t come right out and claim Ravello’s and food poisoning caused the man’s death.”
“But they might as well have.” Carlita mentally braced herself. “Does it still say several other guests?”
Arnie grew quiet. “This is the exact quote, Several other guests became ill and food poisoning is being investigated.”
“What a disaster.” Carlita finished assembling her order and turned the computer off. “I’m gonna hold off on placing my restocking order. We might not need as much food if business tanks.”
“Try not to let it get you down.” Arnie’s eyes met hers. “We lost a few big events, but people will eventually forget. We’ll still get our share of visitors who don’t read the local news and won’t hear about what happened.”
“True.”
“Did you take the samples to the lab?”
“Mercedes and I dropped them off yesterday. I paid extra to have expedited service. I should have the results by the end of the day, and not a moment too soon.” Carlita, determined not to dwell on cancelled parties and reservations, grabbed a bottle of window cleaner and a roll of paper towels and cleaned every single window.
While she worked, she thought about what Dernice had said.
Sonny was messing around with another man’s girlfriend.
Did Paul Maul kill Sonny in an act of revenge?
Someone, maybe it was Dernice, had mentioned that the woman, Courtney, was a flirt.
If Sonny was a player, perhaps it wasn’t Paul Maul but another person who had targeted him.
Carlita finished cleaning the front picture window facing the street and stood back to inspect her hard work.
Arnie was right. Savannah had plenty of tourists and out-of-town visitors who would be unaware of what had transpired.
The main thing, the number one priority, was to get the lab results back.
What would Carlita do if traces of poison were found in the food? She would have to figure out who had tainted it. Despite having multiple cameras on the outside of her properties, she had only one in the main dining room and another in the kitchen, along with the employee breakroom.
As luck would have it, zero were in the area where the buffet table food had been served.
She returned the cleaning supplies to the cabinet and tracked down the list of guests Elvira had sent her. Carlita studied the names. Sonny, Paul Maul, others whose names sounded vaguely familiar. “I wonder if the motorcycle club has a website,” she muttered aloud.
Hurrying to her desk, she logged back onto her laptop and typed Thursday Riding Club into the search bar. Sure enough, a site popped up. Clicking on the link, a background photo of a Harley-Davidson motorcycle appeared.
The about us section was blank. Next to it was a schedule of upcoming events. She double-clicked on the calendar link.
In addition to each Thursday listing a riding event, most weekends included group rides. Notably missing was Luigi and Dernice’s engagement party, and then she remembered it was a surprise, so it wouldn’t have been posted publicly.
Back on the main page, Carlita scrolled down. Although the club’s site was light on details, it included dozens of photos. Bikers riding, bikers standing on Tybee Island’s beach, attending a Savannah Bananas ballgame, cruising across the Tallmadge Bridge, giving a thumb up to the cameraperson.
Carlita slipped her reading glasses on, thrilled to discover captions were included with the photos, listing names and locations. She studied each one, noticing Paul Maul, Sonny Skidz, Dernice, Luigi and even Rocky Skidz, who hadn’t attended the party, posing together.
Every so often, a voluptuous woman with long dark hair appeared. A quick check confirmed it was Cyclone Courtney. She enlarged the picture and studied the woman’s features. She was a real looker. No wonder men were flirting and fighting over her.
She continued clicking through the photos, searching for clues. If, as the investigators believed, someone had murdered Sonny Skidz, it would take good old-fashioned detective work to figure this one out. She grabbed a yellow pad and began scribbling notes:
-Sonny attended party.
-Paul Maul attended party.
-Courtney planned to attend but cancelled at the last minute. Known flirt.
-Two people became ill during party.
-The fettuccine “went missing.” Arnie found it hidden under the buffet table, almost untouched.
-Creed, an injured bike rider, attended party.
-Sonny's condition seemed to improve after being admitted to the hospital.
-An anonymous person had called Channel 2 claiming multiple attendees had gotten food poisoning. Yvonne?
Carlita added a question mark next to Creed’s name. So far, he had flown under the radar. What if he had caused the accident, attempting to take someone out, maybe even Courtney’s boyfriend, Paul, but instead caused his own accident?
She finished studying the photos and exited the website.
Cyclone Courtney could very well hold the key.
What if she had been flirting with someone other than Sonny?
What if there was another party involved?
It was possible. But how could Carlita figure out who had motive?
Short of knowing exactly who had visited Sonny in the hospital right before he died, she was merely grasping at straws.
Carlita tore the sheet from the notepad, folded it into thirds, and stuck it in her pocket. It was time to chat with Dernice and/or Luigi again, to get their thoughts.
Hustling out of the office, she nearly collided with a server. “Whoops. Sorry about that.”
“It was my fault.” The man cast a quick glance over his shoulder. “We have a visitor in the front lobby asking to speak with the owner or manager.”
“Is Arnie here?”
“He left to run an errand.”
“I’ll handle it.” Carlita started walking toward the front.
The server stopped her. “It’s the health department. Something about a recent incident. They’re here for an inspection.”