Turmoil in Savannah: A Made in Savannah Cozy Mystery (Made in Savannah Mystery Series Book 13) by Hope Callaghan (read book txt) 📕

their apartment. She flopped down on the sofa and leaned her head against the backrest.

Carlita perched on the edge of the sofa. “So…how’s Sam?”

“Busy.”

“That’s what he said. Are you going to see him anytime soon?”

“I’m sure we’ll pass each other in the hall on my way out or when he’s on his way in.”

“No. You know what I mean. A date,” Carlita said bluntly.

“Maybe.” Mercedes shrugged. “He’s busy. I’m busy.”

“I invited Sam to our fall party.”

Mercedes’ head shot up. “Is he coming?”

“Maybe,” Carlita teased, the smile on her face widening. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“I’m ready.” Brittney breezed into the living room. She abruptly stopped and placed her hand to her forehead. “Whew. I just got a dizzy spell.”

“Maybe it’s the heels.” Mercedes pointed to the hot pink stilettos Brittney was wearing. “There’s less oxygen at higher altitudes.”

“Mercedes,” her mother chided.

Brittney acted as if she hadn’t heard Mercedes’ snipe. “These are the most comfortable shoes I own. Flats and sneakers hurt my feet. They pinch my toes.”

“We’ll be doing a lot of walking,” Carlita warned.

“Piece of cake.” Brittney waved dismissively.

Rambo stood by the door waiting to go with them. “Sorry, Bud. We can’t take you to town this time.” Carlita patted his head.

“He can go to the vacant lot with us. I’ll bring him back home,” Mercedes promised.

“That’ll work.” Carlita grabbed her pooch’s leash on the way out the door.

Brittney sent Luigi a text, telling him she was going shopping before carefully navigating the steep stairs while Carlita silently wondered how much longer the woman would insist on wearing high heels. Judging by the determined look on her face, she wasn’t going to give up her fashionista ways anytime soon.

While they walked, Carlita gave them a rundown of her conversation with Dernice, how Elvira had cleaned out one of the business accounts and disappeared but left the vehicles behind.

“She sounds unstable,” Mercedes said. “I would be worried about her state of mind if she thinks the government is spying on her and is hearing voices.”

“Dernice was on her way to file a missing person’s report. I promised we would keep an eye out for her.” When they reached the corner, the trio waited until the traffic cleared to cross.

They made their way to the vacant lot, first passing by the trolley stop.

“Hey, Ma.” Mercedes pointed to a new sign. “They finally put up a sign. Look what’s coming.”

Carlita shaded her eyes. “Great. Just what we need,” she groaned.

Chapter 13

 Carlita stared at the picture of the retro metal diner car. Above the diner car, and in big, bold letters, were the words, Sandy Sue’s Bar-B-Que.

“A barbecue joint?” Carlita frowned. “We’re gonna have a restaurant directly across the street.”

“There’s a big difference between barbecue and Italian,” Mercedes said. “A new restaurant will bring more customers.”

“And competition.” Carlita trudged past the sign, and Mercedes fell into step. Brittney, who was having trouble navigating the uneven terrain, struggled to keep up.

“Hang on.” Brittney scooted forward, the tip of her shoe wedging beneath a loose rock. Her ankle started to twist.

Carlita’s quick reflexes saved her from tumbling to the ground. “Maybe you should wait on the trolley bench.”

“What are we doing here?”

“Searching for clues.” Rambo let out a low whine as he tugged on his leash.

“Hang on.” Carlita unclipped it and patted his head. “Stay close by.”

The pooch trotted off while Carlita helped Brittney make her way back to the trolley stop. She waited until the woman was seated on the bench before rejoining Mercedes, who was keeping an eye on Rambo.

“Those shoes are ridiculous,” Mercedes hissed. “She’s going to break her neck.”

“I know, but she’s an adult. It would be like me trying to convince you not to carry your gun around.”

“There’s a world of difference between personal protection and vanity,” Mercedes said.

“I have bigger problems to worry about than Brittney’s shoes.”

“Like keeping her bodyguards out of jail.”

Rambo began sniffing around the outside of the metal shed where Luigi and Ricco had found Rutger’s body.

The shed’s door was partially open. Carlita took a tentative step forward. Rambo, seizing his opportunity, pushed past her and ran inside.

“Rambo. Get out of there!” She ran after him, frantically lunging forward to grab hold of his collar. The pooch skittered to the side and just out of reach while Carlita tumbled to the ground.

“Rambo.” Mercedes dashed past her mother and grabbed the errant pup’s collar. “Got him.”

“He thinks we’re playing.” Carlita climbed to her feet and brushed the dirt from her knees. “Naughty pooch.”

Rambo had the decency to hang his head at the reprimand.

“What’s that?” Mercedes pointed to a spot near the corner of the shed.

“What’s what?”

“This.” Mercedes snatched the small object off the ground. “Never mind. It’s just a chip clip.”

Carlita’s eyes squinted. “Since we’re already in here, we might as well look around.”

Mother and daughter searched the interior of the shed before walking around the outside. They finished their inspection and made their way to the rutted two-lane track that ran along the back.

It was the spot Luigi and Ricco mentioned as being a possible route the killer had used when dropping off Rutger’s body. To the left was the Savannah River. To the right was the main road leading to the interstate.

They retraced their steps and began walking to the front of the property. Brittney was still seated on the bench. She wasn’t alone.

“Great,” Carlita muttered under her breath.

Detective Jackson waited for Mercedes and Carlita to join them. “Hello, Mrs. Garlucci.”

“Hello, Detective Jackson.”

“I was in the neighborhood and happened to be driving by when I noticed this lovely lady sitting on the bench. She seemed distressed, so I thought I would stop to offer my