A petite woman touched her shoulder. “Paul is just trying to get under your skin.”
Rocky Skidz stepped forward and shook Mercedes’ hand. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”
“If you’ve eaten at Ravello’s, it’s possible.” Mercedes explained that she was a server. “Carlita is my mother.”
Rocky waved hello. “Hey, again, Mrs. Taylor. You feeling any better?”
“Feeling better,” she repeated. “Oh…yes. The spicy food I ate before Dernice and I met with you. I’m fine now. Thank you for asking.”
“What about me?” Elvira muscled her way between Dernice and Carlita.
“This is my sister, Elvira. Many of you may have met her when she was chasing after Sonny.” Dernice finished making the introductions.
“Speaking of Sonny, have you picked a date for his memorial service?” Carlita asked.
“Not yet. We’re waiting for the police to wrap up their investigation,” Rocky said.
“We’re gonna miss Old Sonny,” Hot Rod said. “He was the life of the party.”
“How did he get the nickname Sonny the Enforcer?” Carlita knew as soon as the question slipped from her lips that she’d made a mistake. A big one.
Rocky clenched his fists, his face turning bright red. “Who told you Sonny’s nickname was Sonny the Enforcer?”
“I…uh. I thought I heard someone mention it.”
“The only people who called him Sonny the Enforcer were his co-workers,” Rocky said.
“Stealing people’s property when they’re down on their luck and short on cash,” Reyna uttered under her breath.
“Let’s not badmouth my brother, who isn’t here to defend himself.”
“Rocky is right. Poor Sonny.”
“Elvira,” Paul repeated. “You own the building on the other side of the block opposite Ravello’s restaurant.”
“I do. I own an investigative and security services company.”
“Sweet Chopper.” Rocky ran a light hand across the chrome frame. “I've always wanted one of these. What’s her name?”
“Name?”
“Every motorcycle has a name.”
“It’s…a…loaner. I’m, um, testing it out so I haven’t picked out a name.”
Creed, the biker Carlita recognized from the party, the man who had been injured and initially blamed Rocky for his wreck, sauntered over. “Stop making goofy faces at the hot chick and let’s go.”
Paul nodded toward Cyclone Courtney. “Are you going to ride or pout for the rest of the day?”
“Ride.” She slid her helmet on, muttering something unintelligible that sounded like “jerk” as she swung her leg over the side.
Creed pointed his index finger and middle finger down.
Carlita tugged on Luigi’s arm and whispered in his ear. “What’s he signaling? He hopes Paul crashes his bike?”
“It means keep two wheels on the ground.”
“So, it’s a good thing.”
