Chapter 27
Rocky returned, ending Carlita and Dernice’s conversation.
Down the sidewalk they went. He unlocked the front door of the duplex unit next to his and ushered them inside. “Sonny kept his sunglass collection over here.” Making a diagonal trek through the living room, they walked to a back breezeway.
Wooden shelves lined the wall, and each shelf contained sunglasses—dozens of them.
“Sonny had a lot of sunglasses,” Carlita commented.
“He collected them like he collected women.”
Dernice began perusing the shelves.
“You mentioned the Wiley X brand,” Rocky said.
“Mine are black. It might take a minute. He has several pairs that look almost the same.”
Carlita tapped him on the shoulder. “I was wondering if I could use the restroom.”
“Uh. Sure. I guess. Be right back, Dernice.”
Rocky escorted Carlita through the living room to a narrow hallway, stopping in front of a door halfway down. “The lock sometimes sticks, so don’t lock it.”
“Thanks for the warning.” Carlita told him she would find her way back and slipped inside. After counting to ten, she slowly eased the door back open. Sticking her head around the corner, she confirmed the coast was clear.
Carlita shut the door behind her to make it look like she was still in there. Faint voices, Rocky’s voice followed by Dernice’s, echoed.
“Make it quick, Carlita,” she whispered under her breath. Based on the layout of the duplex, she figured the bedrooms were beyond the bathroom.
Tiptoeing to the end, she noticed the room on the right, the one facing the street, was being used as an office. Desk, chair, computer, lamp, corner cabinet, and a futon sofa with a black cushion filled the space.
Carlita pivoted, turning her attention to the room directly across the hall. Finding the door slightly ajar, she gritted her teeth, cautiously easing it open.
Creak.
The door creaked loudly. Certain Dernice and Rocky had heard it, she froze in her tracks, her heart pounding in her chest, waiting for Sonny’s brother to storm down the hall, demanding to know what she was doing.
“Kick it into gear, Carlita. You can only spend so much time in the bathroom.” Sucking in a breath, she flung the door the rest of the way open.
Much larger than the room across the hall, she found a king-size bed with a padded purple headboard. A long, low dresser with an eighties vibe sat against the opposite wall. A set of sliders offered an unobstructed view of the paved patio.
For the most part, the bedroom appeared neat and tidy, except for a coat rack in the corner, filled with an array of clothes—a suit jacket, necktie, and what appeared to be a bath towel.
With a quick check to make sure the coast was still clear, Carlita eased the door shut, leaving it ajar and exactly how she’d found it. Picking up the pace, she darted across the room and opened a dresser drawer. Working her way from top to bottom, she moved at a rapid rate.
She finished and rushed over to the closet for a quick inspection. Again, no clues hit her radar.
Thud. A dull thud echoed.
Carlita froze, offering a small prayer that Dernice the distracter was still working her magic. The thud echoed again. She tiptoed back toward the door when a tiny inner voice urged her to check the coat rack.
She hesitated for a fraction of a second, knowing the longer she searched, the greater her risk of being caught.
Carlita ran to the coat rack and began rummaging through the clothes. Buried behind the towel, she found a lanyard hanging on the hook.
Doubling down on her efforts, she shoved a suit coat aside and grabbed hold of the clear plastic. Inside the clear plastic badge was a nametag: Sonny the Enforcer. She removed her cell phone from her pocket and snapped a picture.
“…sure she’s okay,” Dernice’s voice, high-pitched and with a sense of urgency, drifted down the hall.
Carlita instinctively dropped to her knees and ducked behind the bed.
“…give her another minute. See? The bathroom door is closed. She’s still in there,” Dernice hissed in a loud voice. “You’ll embarrass my friend if you pound on the door.”
“I’ll give her another minute and then I’m knocking.” Rocky’s voice faded and then it grew quiet.
Carlita jumped to her feet and jogged to the door. A quick peek through the crack confirmed the hall was once again empty. She power-walked toward the living room, only slowing long enough to fling the bathroom door open on her way past.
Dernice, with Rocky a few feet away, stood in the breezeway, twirling the temple tip of her sunglasses between her fingers. “There you are. We thought we lost you.”
Carlita clutched her gut and winced. “I had an extra-spicy burrito for breakfast this morning.”
Rocky’s eyes widened. “I hope you turned the fan on.”
She crossed her fingers. “You won’t even be able to tell I used the bathroom. Hopefully, I didn’t keep you waiting.”
“I was asking Rocky about his plans for his brother’s funeral.”
“I told Dernice we have a lot of family so we’re still trying to figure things out.”
“Again, I am so sorry for your loss,” Carlita said sincerely.
The trio exited Sonny’s house the same way they’d entered and lingered on the sidewalk.
“Are you up for tomorrow’s ride?” Dernice asked.
“The charity bike ride for the Senior Citizens Center?” Rocky shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be there, riding in honor of my brother. Sonny was a big supporter of the group.”
“He was. I’ll see you out at the fairgrounds at nine.”
Carlita wished him well and trekked behind Dernice, making her way to the sidewalk. Without looking, she could feel Rocky’s eyes on them, watching as they walked away.
They reached the end of the block and turned the corner.
“That was a close one.” Carlita swiped her eyebrow. “For a second there, I thought for sure I was gonna get busted.”
“Where were you?”
“Searching Sonny’s bedroom at the end of the hall.” Carlita nudged Dernice off to the side and showed her the photo she’d taken. “I found this lanyard hanging on a coat rack.”
Dernice tapped the screen to enlarge the picture. “Sonny worked in the county tax commissioner’s office and enforcement department. This must’ve been his nickname, Sonny the Enforcer.”
“The county tax collectors are the folks who take people’s property for nonpayment of taxes and sell them at auction to recoup the money owed.
” Carlita shoved her phone in her pocket.
“Rocky was right. Sonny had his share of women in and out of his place. I noticed a few articles of women’s clothing hanging from the coat rack. ”
“I wonder if any of them belonged to a chick with a heart tattoo and wings.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” Carlita grew silent, mulling over the findings as they continued making their way toward Walton Square. “If Sonny was a player, any number of women could be potential suspects.”
“We only need one. The right one.”
“Rocky commented that his primary love and hobby was his motorcycle.”
“Without a doubt. Sonny slept, ate and breathed riding.”
“So if his life revolved around riding, there’s a good chance the tattoo person, the person I feel might be behind his death, is a rider too.”
“Stands to reason. Plus, as I mentioned before, I can’t shake the feeling I’ve seen that same tattoo.”
“How many women are in your biker group?”
Dernice began ticking off the names. “Me, Courtney, Reyna, Hot Rod’s wife, Tutti and Leesa. Five total female riders. Reyna and Tutti are close to the same size as the hooded figure we saw coming out of Sonny’s hospital room.”
“So, five women and four potential suspects if we don’t rule anyone out,” Carlita said. “Do the women ride regularly?”
“Most of the time. Tomorrow’s ride is a big deal. We’ve been collecting money for the Senior Citizens group. Most everyone will be there.”
“Everyone, including the women?”
“Yeah.”
An idea began forming in Carlita’s mind. “Can you invite friends…other people…to ride with you?”
“Sure. The more, the merrier. The Thursday Riding Club doesn’t discriminate. We welcome everyone. Why?”
“I might have an idea. Convincing a certain person to help put it into action might be another story.”