Chapter 20

After dropping Paisley off, Carlita circled around the block to Mercedes’ apartment.

She pulled into the alley and crept to the end, barely squeezing by the dumpster, which sat at an odd angle, almost blocking the lane. “Somebody moved the dumpster.”

“Why would someone move the dumpster?” Mercedes hopped out.

Carlita unbuckled her seatbelt and caught up with her daughter in front of the metal bin.

Working together, the women slid the metal container back to its original spot. “She’s already at it.”

“Who is at what?” Mercedes asked.

“Elvira. Snitch is telling Elvira there’s a tubby treasure.”

“You think Snitch was spying on you, listening in and went back to Elvira to report what she heard?”

“I know for a fact.” Carlita tapped the top of the metal bin. “If you hear any banging around, it will be Elvira dumpster diving.”

“Why would she think the dumpster is a tub?”

“Who knows? All I know is the woman never gives up.”

“Never.”

Carlita gave her daughter a quick hug. “Thanks for handling the staff meeting for me tomorrow.”

“You’re welcome. Good luck.”

“I’ll let you know how it goes.” Carlita waited until Mercedes was safely inside and her living room lights turned on before driving off.

Perhaps Mrs. Culpepper would remember something. Or maybe not. Either way, it was worth a try.

She briefly wondered how her friend and tenant was doing. As soon as she pulled into her parking spot at home, she logged onto the jail’s website and scheduled a visit for the following day.

Hopefully, Cool Bones had taken the time to go over his bookie journal and would remember something, some small detail, to give them a much-needed break in the case.

Thinking Pete was still working at the restaurant, she made a beeline for his office and found it empty. Dropping her purse and Rambo off at home, she returned downstairs and stopped by the hostess station.

“Is Pete here?”

“Hey, Carlita. He left with a woman a few minutes ago.” The hostess described Elvira.

“Does she talk like this?” Carlita imitated Elvira’s whiny voice.

“Yes. That’s her. Pete seemed somewhat aggravated. She kept saying something about a tub.”

Carlita grinned. “Elvira.”

“That was her name. Elvira.”

“I bet they’re out back.” Carlita made a move toward the door.

The hostess stopped her. “Actually, I think they said something about a tunnel.”

“Ah. Thanks.” Carlita trekked through the main dining room to the stairs. As she neared the bottom, she discovered the door was unlocked. Picking up the pace, she strode along the tunnel corridor, turning when she reached the intersection leading to Parrot House’s access point.

Faint voices echoed from within, growing louder with each step she took.

Carlita called out. No one answered, so she kept walking. As she drew closer to the excavation area, she heard Elvira’s distinctive voice and Pete’s muffled reply.

She climbed over the wall. “There you are. The hostess thought I might find you down here.”

“Elvira and I were discussing the project’s progress.”

“More like non-progress,” Elvira corrected. “I’m beginning to think these clowns are intentionally dragging their feet.”

“We can’t place all the blame on them,” Pete said. “We’re the ones who restricted their access, only allowing them in here when we’re present.”

“Poindexter should be here any minute.” Elvira tapped the top of her watch. “We’re going to put together a revised work schedule. Time is money.”

“Don’t even think about throwing your weight around,” Pete warned. “You seem to have trouble remembering this is my property.”

“And lest you forget, this is our project.”

Carlita noted the frustration in her husband’s eyes. Elvira was, once again, treading on thin ice. She stepped in between them and did a timeout. “Cooler heads need to prevail.”

“You would think you would want to get this project moving.”

“I am eager to see the disruption end. However, I have multiple businesses to run in the meantime.”

“And I don’t?” Elvira asked incredulously.

“We’re all busy,” Carlita said. “By the way, I dropped Mercedes off at home and found the dumpster blocking part of the alley.”

Elvira’s eyes slid to the side. “Someone moved the dumpster?”

“Maybe you can take a look at your surveillance cameras when you get home.”

“Who would want to mess with a dumpster?”

“Someone who is searching for something. Maybe a tub?” Pete rubbed his chin, his expression flicking from aggravation to amusement. “Perhaps treasure?”

Elvira made a choking sound. “You! You told Snitch there was treasure.”

Carlita patted her pockets. “I don’t have my purse on me. I owe you ten bucks, Pete.”

“You two placed a bet my bird was spying on you?” Elvira feigned indignation. “I’m offended.”

“Offended by the truth?”

“I didn’t intentionally have Snitch spy on you. However, she has been trained to listen in.”

“And you thought why not take a look around.” Pete sighed. “We were messing with Snitch. There isn’t any treasure hidden in, around, or near a dumpster.”

“Besides. A tubby is not a dumpster. Not even close.”

Elvira stomped her foot. “I knew it! Snitch was talking about your old hot tub out back.”

“Seriously.” Carlita lifted her hand. “We were messing with Snitch.”

“Are you sure?” She eyed them skeptically.

Carlita made an “x” across her chest. “Promise.”

Arvid Poindexter, the local historian and archaeologist Pete had hired, appeared, ending their conversation. “I hate to interrupt what sounds like an intriguing discussion.”

Pete motioned him inside. “Thank you for coming by. My…colleague…and I use the term colleague loosely, is concerned about the time it’s taking to make progress on this project.”

“Because of the limited access,” Arvid said. “If my team had more hours available, we could move faster.”

“I agree.” Pete rubbed his palms together. “We need to pick up the pace.”

Carlita, determined to stay out of it, let the trio hammer out a revised schedule, increasing the number of hours the workers were allowed on site.

While they chatted, she noticed Elvira slip away, cell phone in hand. She returned near the end of the conversation, working out the details of when she could be there to oversee the project.

The archaeologist was the first to leave, promising to be there the following day with his team.

Elvira and Carlita waited in the tunnel corridor while Pete turned the lights off. Reaching the first of a series of doors, he triple locked it. They continued walking. All the while, Elvira lamented about how they hadn’t found anything significant.

“You can always call it quits,” Pete suggested.

“Not on your life. I’ve come too far to give up now.”

The trio returned to the main floor and gathered on the front porch.

“Where’s your van?” Carlita asked.

“I walked here.”

“I can give you a ride home.” Pete jangled his keys.

“Thanks for the offer. I could use a little exercise and fresh air.”

The couple exchanged a puzzled glance. Elvira and exercise were not two words often used in the same sentence.

“Suit yourself.”

Elvira patted the backpack she was carrying and began whistling loudly as she strolled down the sidewalk, making her way toward the street.

Pete reached for Carlita’s hand and held the door.

“Hang on.” She stopped him. “When is the last time Elvira went on a casual stroll after dark by herself?”

“My guess would be never,” Pete said. “You think she’s up to something?”

“I have my suspicions. Let’s hang out here for a couple of minutes.”

A minute ticked by and then two. Carlita reached for the doorknob. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“To see if my hunch is correct.” She slipped out of the building, with Pete close behind.

He turned to go in the direction he’d seen Elvira heading.

Carlita stopped him. “This way.” She grabbed his arm, tiptoeing past his truck.

Veering left, they crept alongside the recycling bins.

Ping. A shadowy figure flitted past.

The ping was followed by a muffled crack.

Immediately following the crack was a loud splash.