“I’m sure you do.”
“And some unusual locations, too.”
“I can only imagine.” Carlita reached for her cell phone. “Rutger’s killer left a unique carving on his chest. I was hoping you might be able to tell me what it means.”
“Cops already stopped by to ask me about it.”
“Was this what they showed you?” Carlita pulled up the picture Luigi had taken and handed Steve her phone.
“Yep. It’s kinda hard to see with the amount of dried blood. Someone did a number on him.”
“I suspect the carving has some significance to Rutger and/or his killer,” Carlita said.
Steve handed the phone back and took another drag off his cigarette. “You know…now that I look at it again, I think it might be the work of my buddy, Mick, over at West End Tattoo Shop. Not the sloppy knife cut, but the basic design. You think you can send me a copy?”
Carlita cast Tony a glance. On the one hand, she was anxious to figure out what the tattoo symbol meant. On the other hand, if the picture got into the wrong hands…namely Rutger’s killer or the authorities, they would want to know where she got it.
Tony read his mother’s mind. “It’s okay if the cops find out I took the picture.”
“We’ll have to take that chance.” Carlita tapped the screen as Steve rattled off his cell phone number. “You should have it.”
Steve pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “Yep. I’ll run it by Mick this afternoon. Ten bucks says the cops already questioned him, too. They also wanted to know if I’d seen a coupla big, burly guys hanging around the area recently.”
Carlita’s heart skipped a beat.
“I told them I hadn’t seen anybody suspicious. I mean, I own a tattoo shop, you own a pawnshop. Who doesn’t look suspicious?”
“What’s your opinion?” Carlita asked. “Do you think the Savannah Six took their boss out? Reese mentioned some sort of possible argument between them shortly before the confrontation with Duce.”
“My money is on Phil Duce’s involvement. He has the perfect alibi since he was in the hospital at the time of Rutger’s death. The Savannah Six are small potatoes compared to Duce and his friends.”
“That was Tony’s theory, as well.”
“I better get back to my shop. My next appointment will be showing up soon.” Steve promised to let her know as soon as he heard anything on the tattoo and then strode out of the courtyard.
Carlita waited until he was gone. “Luigi and Ricco better cool it with Duce and his men. What if we’re right and they’re about to be framed - or even worse - it’s payback time for a perceived involvement in putting Pat Duce behind bars?”
“I’m already on it.” Tony switched his cell phone on. “I’m sending both of them a message telling them they better stay put for a couple of days. Whether or not they’ll listen is another story.”
*****
Tony headed home to the apartment while Carlita ran upstairs to get ready for her shift at the restaurant. It was a busy Saturday afternoon, and it was music to her ears every time she swiped a credit card and rang up a sale.
The staff had settled into a comfortable routine. It was almost too good to be true, how well both the restaurant and pawnshop were plugging along.
Tony swung by a couple of hours later to tell his mother Shelby and Violet wouldn’t be home until evening and offered to pitch in at the restaurant.
“I appreciate the offer, Son. I’m just finishing here. They have enough staff to cover the evening shift, and I think we both deserve a few hours off. I’m not in the mood to cook supper. I was thinkin’ about heading to the Thirsty Crow to grab a burger and listen to Cool Bones and the Jazz Boys.”
“Mind if I tag along?”
“I would love the company. Maybe we can talk Mercedes into going with us.” Carlita told her son she would call him within the hour.
She returned home and found her daughter inside her room hunched over her laptop, classical music blaring from the laptop speakers. “Knock. Knock.”
Mercedes spun around. “Hey, Ma.”
“What?” Carlita cupped a hand to her ear. “I can’t hear you.”
“Sorry.” Mercedes turned the music down. “Classical music helps build momentum for my action scenes.”
“The bullets are flying and so are the musical notes,” Carlita joked.
“Something like that. What’s up?”
“Tony and I are heading to the Thirsty Crow to grab a bite to eat and listen to Cool Bones and the guys around eight. You wanna go with us?”
“What about Shelby and Violet?”
“They’re with Shelby’s uncle and won’t be home until later.”
Mercedes cast a longing look at her laptop. “I was moving along on the story.”
“You still have time to crank out a coupla thousand more words,” Carlita teased. “Come with us. It’ll be nice to hang out together.”
“Yeah. Sure. What time?”
“I figured we could leave around seven-thirty. It will give us enough time to grab a burger before the band starts.”
“Sounds good.”
Mercedes returned to her story while Carlita headed to her desk. She sorted through several invoices, checked her emails and then the weather to make sure there was no rain in the forecast. She slid the chair back, and her eyes fell on the slip of paper with the Savannah Six names and the notes she’d jotted down:
Quinton Jackson. A local with no previous record.
Axel Bell. A local with no previous record.
Kellen Saylor. Moved to area not long ago. Only incidents involved the Savannah Six and ferry captain. No tattoo.
Clifton Boggs. Longest rap sheet. Violence against a law enforcement officer, lifetime resident. Ring tattoo.
Lisa
