Arnie’s eyes grew round as saucers. “No kidding. Did you know that?”
“Not until about ten minutes ago.” Carlita placed her hand on her forehead. “I’m not sure how much worse this could get. The reporter had a copy of a recent restaurant inspection and mentioned several violations.”
“All minor issues which were easily addressed.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t believe the local channels will paint Ravello’s in a positive light. Scandal sells. We have a dead city worker and Elvira’s employee who is hinting at hiring a lawyer.”
“I’m sorry this has all come down on you,” Arnie apologized. “You’re a wonderful person, Carlita, and it was a thoughtful gesture for you to throw a party for Dernice and Luigi.”
“It sure backfired, didn’t it?”
“This too shall pass.”
“Is the food from the party still on the shelves?”
“It is. Like I mentioned earlier, the cops took samples. After they left, I made sure to put the storage containers back in the same spot.” A dull thud echoed. “I better get back in the kitchen.”
Carlita settled in at the desk to go over payroll and run a profit-and-loss statement. Sales were up, and an employee bonus was in the works. Her gut told her as soon as the story hit the local news, business would tank.
There was also the troubling thought that Elvira’s employee might follow through on her threat and hire an attorney.
After finishing, she tracked down the photos she’d taken during the party, everyone laughing and having fun. Luigi and Dernice looked so happy.
Despite not having met each of the guests, she could easily pick out which ones were part of the Thursday Riding Club. They all wore a patch on their leather jackets—a chrome chopper bike with a skeleton rider.
She paused when she found a photo of Creed, the man who had been injured during a recent group ride. Carlita thought about the story she’d heard, how Creed accused Sonny’s brother of causing his accident.
Were there still hard feelings and bad blood? Creed could’ve died because of the crash, a crash he blamed on Sonny’s brother. What if Creed was angry enough to poison Sonny because of his accident?
Carlita finished flipping through the photos. She made her way to the walk-in refrigerator to track down the pan of Alfredo. Placing it on the counter, she lifted the lid and leaned in for a tentative sniff. The faint aroma of almonds lingered.
Using an empty glass jar, she scooped up a large spoonful of the food and placed it inside the jar before screwing the lid on.
Quick steps echoed. Mercedes appeared. “Hey, Ma. Tony told me about the reporters showing up. How did it go?”
Carlita gave her a brief rundown of the confrontation. “While they were interviewing me, one of them mentioned Sonny Skidz worked for the city, in the tax collector’s office.”
“So we’ll for sure make the evening news.”
“Without a doubt.” Carlita unscrewed the lid and held the jar out. “Does this fettuccine Alfredo smell funny to you?”
Mercedes sniffed it. “It smells like almonds.”
“That’s what I was thinking. I didn’t put almonds in the fettuccine.”
An odd look crossed her daughter’s face. “I do a lot of criminal research for my mafia books, including researching poisons. Cyanide can smell like bitter almonds.”
Chapter 10
“So maybe it’s true.” Carlita sniffed the container again. “Maybe someone poisoned the fettucine.”
“But who and why?” Mercedes asked.
Carlita reminded her daughter about the guest who had been injured in a recent motorcycle accident. “Sonny is the brother of the guy Creed accused of causing the accident.”
“Good point. Don’t forget about the woman, Yvonne, who is hinting at hiring an attorney,” Mercedes said.
Carlita heaved a heavy sigh. “I can’t quit thinking about how Sonny seemed to be recovering. Only minutes later he’s on his deathbed.”
