“Why not, Carmen?”
“I have a lot to do today.”
“You know you'd have a better time hanging out with me. Remember the last time you was here? We had a good time, right?”
“Yes, we did,” Carmen replied. “And I never did thank you for showing me such a good time. You were the perfect gentleman.”
“Gentleman? Only to you and don't tell nobody 'bout it either. It's bad for my rep.”
“Your secret’s safe with me, Denny Boo. But there's a price for my silence.”
“Anything you need.”
“I need to find Porsche Temple. Do you know where to find her?”
“What you want with that skank trick?” Denny asked.
“I'm trying to talk with some of Dez's friends.”
“Yo, Carmen, I never did say how sorry I was about Dez. The way you bounced in for the funeral and out of town, didn't hardly nobody have a chance to say anything to you. But I understood that, you and Dez was tight. I know you were trippin'. And knowing you, you probably tried to bury yourself in work.”
“That's exactly right.”
“Do I still know my Baby Carm, or what?”
“So do you know where to find her, Denny Boo?”
“She was tricking for this guy named James Martin.”
“Porsche's a prostitute?” Carmen asked in shock.
“Can't everybody be a big time model or marry no rich man, like you and Dez. But she was a high price hoe, if that makes a difference. She was doing a little running, too.”
“Running?”
“Drug running, Carmen. Once a month her and Martin used to drive to Miami, pick up their shit and come back. But all that ended when Martin got killed in a carjacking. I ain't seen Porsche in a while. Let me see if any of these niggas know where to find her. Hold on, Carmen.”
Carmen held on thinking about Porsche running drugs and being prostitute. Denny returned to the phone.
“Nobody knows where she lives. But you can find her at either Goosebumps or Pleasers. She got girls shake dancing at both them spots.”
“So she's not a drug runnin' prostitute any more, now she's a pimp.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Denny said. “When I'ma get to see you?”
“When was the last time you had Sunday dinner with your mother?”
“I couldn't tell you the last time. Why?”
“Because you're gonna take me there. I promised her that I would come and see her.”
“No can do, Carm. Going to DC for a few days.”
“I'll let you off this time. But call me when you get back. Maybe I'll let you come scoop me up and feed me when you get back.”
“A'ight.”
And with that, Denny hung up. Carmen took a deep breath and proceeded to get ready to go to Roland's house. She grabbed the biggest purse she had, and was out the door. When she arrived at Roland's house, a cold chill came over Carmen as she drove up the long driveway to the house. She thought she saw Desireé standing in the doorway, waving as she did on Carmen's visits to the house. As she got closer, Carmen could see that it was Melissa, the housekeeper, she had been with Roland for fifteen years. Melissa was a Black woman, forty-six years old, but you couldn't tell it by looking at her. She looked like a woman in her late twenties—early thirties, maybe, but that was stretching it.