Although she didn’t know the man, she knew someone else who did…her son, Vinnie. Carlita didn’t figure her son would answer her call. She left a message for him, asking him to return the call when he had time.
A sudden thought popped into her head. “That’s it.” She snapped her fingers. “Hey, Mercedes!”
Mercedes wandered into the living room, her slippers flap-flapping as she traipsed across the wood floor. “Yeah?”
“I thought you were already awake.”
“I was earlier. I was up half the night working on my new story and fell asleep at the desk.” She began massaging her neck. “I have to stop doing that. It’s a real pain in the neck, literally.”
“I was gonna tell you I’m heading to the business development office to meet Emmett Pridgen, if he’s in.”
“What are you gonna do at the business development place? Open another business? Don’t we already have enough to do?”
“This is strictly a fishing expedition, for information. Someone attacked Lawson Bates last night. He’s in a coma in the hospital and the authorities are questioning Tori, Pirate Pete and Glenda’s husband, Mark.”
“What does Pridgen have to do with this?” Mercedes started to yawn and covered her mouth. “Sorry.”
“When I was down by the river the day the Mystic Dream was damaged, the Channel Eleven News reporter spoke with Lawson Bates. He said he suspected Emmett Pridgen of being one of the people who may have been responsible for the damage to his riverboat.”
“Which means he may have also been involved in Lawson’s attack. I’ll go with you,” Mercedes offered. “You’ll have to wait for me to get ready.”
“I’ll wait.”
Mercedes ran to the bathroom and Carlita grabbed her phone. She needed to talk to Glenda and Pete before she started snooping around. She poured another cup of coffee and carried her phone to the balcony.
Glenda was the first to call her back. “I can’t believe the morning I’m having.”
“Let me guess…the cops were on your doorstep, asking Mark if he knows anything about Lawson Bates’ attack.”
“How did you know?”
“I spoke with Tori Montgomery. They were questioning her, too.”
“And Pete Taylor, I suspect.”
“I haven’t talked to Pete yet, but that’s my guess.” Carlita sipped her coffee. “Did they tell you what happened?”
“Only that they interviewed the employees, who said Lawson planned to stay late, to keep an eye on the riverboat. A local resident was out jogging along the river early this morning and found Lawson unconscious on the dock in front of the Mystic Dream. The man called 911 and by the time the ambulance got to him, he was in bad shape. They rushed him to the hospital.”
“I heard he was in a coma.”
“Yep,” Glenda confirmed. “That’s what the investigators told us. I think Pete may be at the top of the list of suspects.”
A wave of dread washed over Carlita. “Why do you say that?”
“Because the investigator, a Detective Polivich, said another riverfront business owner was in the vicinity at the time of the incident.”
“Pirate Pete argued with Lawson yesterday. Remember?”
“Yeah, and there were a lot of other people present who witnessed the argument.”
“My guess is Pete decided to spend the night on his ship.” Carlita set her coffee on the table and wiggled out of the lounge chair. “This is terrible. What makes them suspect Mark?”
“My guess is the comment you overheard the Channel Eleven News guy make, that Lawson suspected Mark, Pete or Emmett Pridgen were behind the damage to his riverboat.”
“It’s a mess. Until Lawson regains consciousness, we won’t know for sure what happened. I would be more concerned for Pete. It appears he may have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Carlita thanked Glenda for the information and disconnected the call.
Pete still hadn’t called her back. As each minute passed, she grew more concerned the authorities had uncovered evidence pointing to Pete and they arrested him.
Mercedes emerged from the bathroom, comb in hand. “All I have to do is run a quick comb through this mess and I’ll be ready to go.”
*****
The development office was a nondescript brick building, with a bold, black sign emblazoned on the front door, Savannah Office of Business Development.
“Here goes nothing.” Carlita grasped the handle and pushed the door open. The interior of the office was as drab as the exterior. Not only was it drab, it was also dark.
Carlita gazed around the room, waiting for her eyes to focus when she spied a small counter off to the side. The young woman behind the counter warily eyed them as they approached.
“Yes. We own a business in Walton Square and have a few questions for Chairman Pridgen.” Carlita tapped her fingers on the countertop. “Yes, I believe that’s his name…Pridgen.”
“Mr. Pridgen doesn’t typically handle inquiries in person. We prefer to have them in writing. If you would like to fill out a form.” The woman reached under the counter and pulled out a clipboard. “I’ll be happy to give it to him.”
Mercedes slid in next to her mother. “Do you have any idea how long that will take? We need an answer kinda quick.”
The woman smiled patiently. “Forty-eight hours.” She pointed to the clipboard. “The development department requires a forty-eight hour turnaround time.”
Carlita squinted her eyes at the small print on the top sheet. “The print is too small and I don’t have my glasses.”
“I’ll fill it out,” Mercedes said. “Do you know when Mr. Pridgen will be returning to the office?”
The woman glanced at an open appointment book in front of her. “He has a full schedule. He may be back in the office this afternoon, unless his meetings run late. It’s hard to tell.”
She handed the clipboard and a
