Chapter 24

Carlita exited the jail and climbed into her car before placing a call to her friend Tori Montgomery, a woman who hobnobbed with Savannah’s upper echelon, a member of the elite society clubs, a person who could open doors no one else could.

Tori answered right away. “Hello, Carlita. I was just thinking about you and how much I enjoyed attending Shelby’s baby shower.”

“I’m glad you could make it. My only regret is we didn’t have a lot of time to chat. It was hectic.”

“Hectic, but in a good way. I planned to ask you about your tenant, Cool Bones. I heard he’s gotten into a pinch of trouble,” Tori said.

“More than a pinch. He’s in jail, accused of murder.”

“Charles Benson volunteered for a recent fundraiser to help raise money for the animal rescue center on Tybee Island.” Tori told her she had a call into Mayor Puckett, a personal friend, inquiring about Cool Bones’ release.

“I’m sure he would be thrilled. He needs all the help he can get.” Carlita briefly filled her in, wrapping it up with how Mrs. Culpepper recalled seeing a black sedan with a red stripe lurking around the neighborhood. “Cool Bones thinks the Brick District’s country club drivers drove similar sedans.”

“They did and still do,” Tori confirmed. “You remember Lucien.”

“Of course I know Lucien, your driver and bodyguard.”

“He once worked for the country club. Let me guess…you would like to go by there to do a little digging around.”

“I only called to get information, but now that you mention it, doing a little digging around would be awesome.”

Tori’s voice grew muffled. “I haven’t had lunch yet. If you’re able, I can have Lucien chauffeur us over there.”

“I hate to bother you on such short notice,” Carlita said.

“It’s no bother. While we’re at it, we can catch up.” Tori promised she and her driver would be there within half an hour.

“I don’t know what to say, other than I owe you one.”

“Nonsense. I’m never too busy to help a friend. See you soon.”

The call ended, and Carlita drove straight home. She rummaged around in her closet, searching for country club attire before settling on a black skirt and pink silk blouse. She slipped a pair of black pumps on and critiqued her reflection in the mirror. “This’ll have to do.”

Grabbing a handbag, she ran downstairs to wait.

Tori’s pale gray limousine pulled in only moments later. Lucien, her bodyguard and occasional driver, exited the vehicle and made his way around to her side.

“Hello, Lucien.”

“Hello, Carlita. It’s good to see you again.”

“Same here.”

He held the door and waited for her to slide in the back.

Tori sat on the opposite side, a welcoming smile on her face. “I meant to tell you the other day you’re looking rested and content. Married life suits you.”

“It does. Pete’s a doll. Although I have to admit, it’s been busy, busy.”

“Ravello’s is doing well?” Tori asked. “I confess I love watching Autumn’s Divine Eats in Savannah show, which regularly features your delightful Italian restaurant.”

“You should stop by for dinner sometime. We would love to have you.”

“I will,” her friend promised.

While they rode, the women caught up. Tori was a friend you could go months without talking to, yet the moment you saw each other, the friendship and conversation picked up right where it left off.

The trip flew by, and before Carlita knew it, they were passing through massive wrought-iron gates, cruising along a city street with towering live oaks canopying over, creating a majestic tunnel of trees.

Meticulously manicured grounds lined both sides of the street. Bountiful gardens of vibrant flowers, in shades of pink, blue, yellow and crimson, swooped and dipped, creating a lush landscape for as far as the eye could see.

Carlita let out a low whistle. “The Brick District is decked out to the nines.”

“It’s the epitome of old money. Stately Savannah charm, where the who’s who of the town live in mega mansions hand-crafted by artisans featuring imported finishes and furnishings sourced from all over the world,” Tori said.

Carlita tilted her head, eyeing her friend with interest. “You make it sound like the most luxurious place on the planet, which makes me wonder why you don’t live here.”

“And leave Montgomery Hall to live a pretentious, ostentatious, snobbish existence?” Tori waved dismissively. “Not on your life. I’ll take my quiet country manor any day.”

“So…how did you get us in here, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“I have a lifetime membership.” Tori rubbed her fingers and thumb together. “Money is money. Old money is even more desirable, at least in the eyes of the Brick District’s members.”

“I hope my outfit is up to snuff.” Carlita smoothed her collar.

“You look fine. No one will give you a second glance.”

The street wound past antebellum mansions, pillared palaces, and sprawling compounds, all gated and surrounded by thick brick walls. More majestic oaks dotted the yards.

Between the walls and gates, Carlita glimpsed circular driveways with hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of vehicles parked out front. Maseratis. Lamborghinis. Even a few Porsche models. “I can’t afford the air in this place,” she joked.

“Like I said, this isn’t my cup of tea,” Tori said. “You couldn’t pay me to live in the Brick District.”

Carlita leaned forward and tapped Lucien’s shoulder. “Tori mentioned you were once a Brick District driver.”

“I was. Some of my friends still work here,” Lucien said.

“Does the name Cray ring a bell?”

He repeated it. “No. I wasn’t employed by them for long before Ms. Tori and I met, and she presented me with an offer I couldn’t refuse. It was the best decision I ever made.”

“And I can’t envision not having you as a part of my family,” Tori said fondly.

“What’s the procedure for getting a job?” Carlita asked.

Lucien explained how he’d been referred by a friend of a friend. “You have to know somebody to get an interview. They also require background checks.”

“They won’t hire you if you have a record?”

Lucien laughed. “Not necessarily. Some have…shall we say…questionable hobbies.”

Carlita’s scalp tingled. “Questionable hobbies?”

“Betting is big in the Brick District. Horse betting, sports bets, you name it. Half the drivers I knew were bookies, and many still are.” Lucien circled around, stopping beneath a pillared portico. Long, wide steps led to a massive porch. He escorted Tori from the limo first and then came around to Carlita’s side.

Up the carpeted steps they climbed, stopping when they reached the reception desk. “Good afternoon, Ms. Montgomery.”

Tori greeted the uniformed clubhouse employee by name. “Good afternoon, Darrel,” she replied. “I didn’t make a lunch reservation, but was hoping you could squeeze me and my friend in.”

“Of course. We always have a spot for you. Would you care for dining room or patio seating?”

“First available will be fine. Near the window overlooking the portico would be preferable.”

“Overlooking the portico?” Darrel lifted an eyebrow.

“My friend is hoping to see a Brick District sedan.” Tori shifted her purse to her other arm. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but there is a stable of district drivers on the property.”

“Close to forty at last count. I was once a district driver before transferring to the clubhouse.”

“As was Lucien. I’m sure you’ve met.”

“Lucien. Yes, ma’am. He’s a good guy.”

Carlita’s heart skipped a beat. “I…uh…know someone who is interested in becoming a driver. If you don’t mind me asking, how do you go about getting your foot in the door?”

Darrel pulled a notepad from behind the desk and jotted something down. He tore the paper off and handed it to Carlita. “If you have time, feel free to swing by the driver’s office to chat with the supervisor on duty.”

Tori patted his arm. “You’ve been most helpful, Darrel. Thank you.”

The hostess arrived, menus in hand, and escorted them to their table near the front window. Their server appeared moments later. She delivered glasses of ice water and rattled off the daily special. “Our special today is roulade of oak smoked salmon salad with dill dressing.”

Carlita carefully placed her menu on the table. “Salmon salad sounds perfect to me.”

“I’ll have the apple and butternut squash salad with the divine warm bread, along with crocks of your imported bordier churned butter.” Tori ordered enough bread for two, insisting that once Carlita tasted it, she would want more.

“I know I already thanked you, but want you to know how much I appreciate you bringing me here to get a lay of the land.”

“I’m thrilled I can assist in such a worthy cause,” Tori said. “If you’re not in a rush, we’ll head to the driver’s center when we’re done. Do you have any idea who we might be looking for?”

“The man I mentioned earlier. Cray.” Carlita tracked down the photos she’d taken of Cool Bones’ bookie journal on her cell phone. “The deceased, Rudy McCoy, and Mrs. Culpepper both mentioned him.”

Tori daintily sipped her water. “You don’t have his given name?”

“Unfortunately, no.” Carlita zoomed in on Cool Bones’ journal entry and the man’s name. “I know it’s a longshot, but maybe we’ll be able to figure out if this Cray person was a Brick District driver and if he’s still around.”

Lunch arrived fast and fresh. While they dined, Carlita told Tori about renovating her vacant storage area and surprising Tony and Shelby.

“I bet they’re over the moon.”

“Over the moon and in desperate need of more room,” Carlita quipped. “The project will be finished in a matter of days, ready just in time for their growing family.”

Tori nibbled on a shred of lettuce. “Do you miss the old neighborhood?”

“Walton Square?”

Her friend nodded.

“I suppose I would if not for the fact I’m over there almost every day. I think Mercedes is enjoying a little freedom and having the apartment all to herself.”

“And Elvira?”

“Do I miss Elvira? No. She’s always lurking somewhere nearby.”

Tori laughed out loud. “I’m sure she is.”

Carlita shared the story about Mercedes’ and Elvira’s arrests. “The judge fined them and ordered community service, picking up trash downtown.”

“I bet Elvira was fit to be tied.”

“Actually, I think Mercedes was more upset than Elvira. More like mortified when Sam showed up with a tour group.”

“Oh, dear. Somehow, I don’t envision your daughter being thrilled by having an audience.”

“Not at all. Thank goodness Sam quickly saw the error of his ways. He apologized with the biggest bouquet of red roses I’ve ever seen and made plans for a romantic trip to Hilton Head.”

“Sam Ivey is no dummy.” Tori changed the subject. “You must bring Violet by sometime soon. Byron has mentioned her several times, how he misses having her around.”

Tori’s butler, Byron, had grown fond of Carlita’s granddaughter. She reminded him of his granddaughter Lilly, who was struck and killed by a car on Bay Street a few years back. “I’ll steal her away after the baby comes. We’ll plan a visit and a day of fun for her.”

“You’re a wonderful mother and grandmother, Carlita. Pete’s lucky to have you.”

“We’re lucky to have each other.”

The meal ended, and Tori insisted on buying. Lucien, alerted by the staff the women were finishing, stood waiting in the pickup area.

“I trust you had an enjoyable lunch,” he said as he escorted them to the limo.

“It was lovely. I feel richer already,” Carlita joked.

“We would like to stop by the Brick District’s driver’s center,” Tori said.

“To see if you can figure out who Cray is or was,” Lucien guessed.

“Correct.”

“I talked to a buddy who retired a few weeks ago. They still keep all their records.”

“Of current and previous employees?” Carlita asked.

“Yes. I’m not sure how or where, but I know they keep them.” Lucien hurried to the driver’s side and climbed in. “My buddy, Scotty, seems to think if you grease the manager’s palm, you might be able to get a little extra information.”

“I’m game to try anything.” Carlita clicked on the journal entry, double checking the date of McCoy’s murder and Cool Bones’ entry listing Cray’s name. “It would be worth every penny.”

Lucien turned onto the main thoroughfare, cruising past more mega mansions. They reached a roundabout and took the first turn to the right.

“This place is huge,” Carlita said.

“Like its own small city,” Tori said. “There are shops, restaurants, you name it. You could live in the Brick District and never have to leave.”

A golfcart whizzed past, closely followed by another.

“All you need is a golf cart to get around,” Carlita said.

“Along with bags of cash and massive connections,” Tori added.

“The driver’s center office is straight ahead.” Lucien eased the car into an empty spot and climbed out. “Would you like me to escort you inside?”

“It won’t be necessary,” Tori said. “We shouldn’t be long.”

“We’ll either figure out who Cray is or be back to square one,” Carlita said. “Hopefully it’s the former and not the latter.”