Merry Masquerade in Savannah: A Made in Savannah Cozy Mystery (Made in Savannah Cozy Mysteries Serie by Hope Callaghan (ebook reader for pc .TXT) 📕

Boom. Boom.

Al covered his ears and hurried over.  “You break ‘em, you buy ‘em.”

“Huh?” Mercedes continued to pound on the tom toms.

“Stop!” Al shouted as he waved his hands.  “You’re giving me a headache.”

“Sorry.” Mercedes set the sticks down and slipped off the stool.  “I guess I got carried away.”

“Does this thing work?” Carlita reached for the dial on a nearby CB radio and cranked the volume up.  A loud crackling sound filled the store.  “Check this out.” She picked up the microphone, pressed the button on the side.  “Breaker, breaker.  Do you copy?”

Mercedes chuckled.  “Great.  That’s all we need. A CB radio.”

Al clenched his jaw.  “I thought you came back to check out the metal art.”

“We’re easily distracted,” Mercedes said.  “So does the CB radio work?”

“Well, first you need to turn the volume down.” Al’s arm shot out and he twisted the dial. “You’ll need to purchase a cable and antenna to go with it.  We sell those separately.”

“I see,” Carlita said.  “I don’t know how much I would use a CB radio.  I guess I’ll take another look at the metal art.”

Al began to walk to the back and Mercedes’ eyes darted around the room, searching for another distraction when her eyes fell on another noisemaker.  “Is this what I think it is?”

“No!” Al lunged forward as he attempted to stop her from touching the horn.  “It’s an air horn, but it has to be hooked up to a vehicle to work, although knowing you two, it would work just to spite me.”

Mercedes appeared offended. “Seriously? I guess you don’t want customers.”

“I want paying customers, not annoying customers.  Look.” Al ran a hand through his cropped locks.  “I’m not sure what’s going on, but ever since you two walked back in here, you’ve been doin’ nothing but creating a lot of noise.” His eyes narrowed.  “Hey, where’s the other woman who was with you, the one I bought the gems from?”

Mercedes and her mother’s eyes locked. “I…uh. She wasn’t interested in buying anything.  She walked down the street to see if there were any other shops.”

“Huh.” Al wasn’t buying it.  “Something fishy is going on here.”

Mercedes’ throat went dry and she swallowed hard.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

***

Autumn waited until Mercedes and her mother were inside the store before she jogged to the back of the building, veered into the alley and ran to the other end.  After a quick glance around, she approached the back door of Beachy Bargains Pawn Shop and grasped the padlock, giving it a quick yank.

It refused to budge, so she reached into her pocket and plucked out a small tool, jabbing it into the hole.

Click. The lock clicked.  “Sweet.” Autumn swiped a stray strand of hair from her eyes and pulled again, but the only thing she got was a handful of rust that flaked off.

“Great. Now what?” Autumn took a step back and studied the rear of the building.  To the left was a hinged wooden box and above the box, a window.  It was small, but Autumn quickly calculated she could easily fit.

She slid the tool back inside her pocket and placed both hands on the box, heaving herself up.  Autumn’s feet dangled in the air for a moment as she wiggled back and forth until her knees hit the edge.  She scrambled across the flat surface and crawled to the window.

Ping.  A small ping echoed from the overgrown brush along the fence line and she craned her neck, peering into the dense grass.  It was only a matter of time before someone spotted her.

Autumn fumbled with the windowsill, desperately tugging it up, but it refused to budge.  She grabbed her pick tool and ran it between the window frames, praying it was an old window with a lock lever.

Click.  The lever slid forward and she silently lifted the sash. With a quick glance behind her, she slithered through the opening.

It took only a split second for her to realize she was crawling into the pawnshop’s bathroom.  A small gurgle escaped Autumn’s lips when she discovered there was nothing for her to grab onto, but it was too late.

She shoved both hands in front of her to break her fall and desperately grabbed hold of the only thing within reach – the toilet bowl.  By the time Autumn realized the seat was up, it was too late.

Autumn clutched at the sides of the smooth, porcelain rim. Her hand slipped, her ponytail flipped forward and made a small splash as the tips hit the water.

“Oh disgusting,” she grunted. She wiggled the rest of the way in, landing on both feet. She stared at her hands, and then the grimy pedestal sink beside the toilet.  “Yuck.”

Autumn turned the rusty knob until a small stream of water trickled into the sink.  She squirted some soap in the palm of her hand and quickly scrubbed as she looked around for something to dry them on.  There was a hand dryer on the wall, but she couldn’t risk turning it on and creating noise.

With a quick swipe across the front of her jeans to dry her hands, Autumn tiptoed to the door and opened it a crack before peering into a narrow hall.  She briefly closed her eyes and prayed the door wouldn’t squeak, although it wouldn’t have mattered because the sound of someone pounding on a set of drums echoed and the walls shook.

She crept along the edge of the hall and opened the first door she reached.  It was a storage closet. She quickly closed it and moved to the next.  She opened the second door and peered into total darkness.  Autumn silently berated herself for not bringing a