“I’m here to see Robert Dawson. He’s expecting me,” Garrett said to the receptionist who wore a headset like it was growing from her head.
The receptionist held up a manicured finger to quiet him then rattled off the dealership’s greeting with the precision of a pro as she jotted something on a notepad Garrett couldn’t see. Suddenly the receptionist looked up at him.
“I’m Garrett Mason, and I’m here to see Robert Dawson,” he repeated.
“Is he expecting you?”
“Yes, he is,” Garrett confirmed.
Before they could finish their exchange, Garrett looked up to see a burly man come shuffling through doors marked employees only. He was speaking loudly when he tapped another man on the back.
“It was good talking to you, Johnson,” the man howled.
His eyes made brief contact with Garrett’s then he walked up to the desk.
“Veronica, is everything okay over here?” he asked.
“Um, yes. Yes, Mr. Dawson. This gentleman, um mister—”
“I’m Garrett Mason. We spoke briefly yesterday,” Garrett said helping her out.
“Oh yes. Hope I didn?
??t keep you waiting too long,” Dawson said. “Why don’t you follow me?”
Once in his office, Robert Dawson squeezed his large body behind his desk and laid his palms on top of it. “So you’re looking into Otis’s death.” He shook his head like the mere mention of the victim’s name was enough to cast sadness over the entire room.
“Yes. I want to know about his relationship with Aisha Kaufman,” Garrett offered.
“Poor ol’ fool. Otis thought he had struck pure, black, Texas liquid gold!”
“So what about his wife? Wasn’t Grimes married?” Garrett asked, trying to gage whether he needed to visit the widow Grimes.
“Please. You know what happens when some women hit their late forties. Sex just ain’t all that interesting. She didn’t care what ol’ Otis was doing as long as he wasn’t trying to do her, and he kept her charge card payments current, of course.”
“Of course,” Garrett agreed.
“Yup, Otis was just glad to have the attention from such a hot young thing, and then when she had a friend who was willing to play, well, let’s just say, it was as if he’d hit the lotto,” the round man chuckled.
“Who was the friend? Do you know?”
“Nope, never met her. Otis made it clear he wasn’t about to share,” Robert added. “I’ll have to admit, in the days after Otis returned from that trip to Belize, bragging about the number they had done on him. I know me and quite a few others were just plum jealous,” he shook his head. “I mean we all think about getting some ass on the side from a black gal, but to do both of them—I told Otis he could make a sweet little business on the side, ’cause I knew at least seven guys who’d pay twice what he did,” Robert winked.
“Do you remember the friend’s name?”
“Like I said, I never met her, and Otis used to refer to her as Cutie. He actually used to laugh when he talked about the two of them together. All I can tell you about her was that she had a tattoo.”
“A tattoo of what?” Garrett asked.
“It was of a naked woman with large wings on her back, tattooed on her left cheek.”
Garrett wondered why they’d never heard that Abril had a partner. He instantly wondered if this would help their client’s case. He knew he couldn’t wait to share the news with Marcus. He quickly turned his attention back to Robert Dawson.
“So Aisha and her partner shared Otis?”
“Shit yeah,” Robert said as he slapped his thigh. “He was definitely with Aisha, but he wanted Cutie, and Aisha kept dangling her in front of him like the golden carrot. He was in a pickle all right, but I tell you what, he didn’t mind a bit,” Robert said.
“Were you shocked when you learned he was shot in the head?”