The Family Affair: A Made in Savannah Cozy Mystery (Made in Savannah Cozy Mysteries Series Book 9) by Hope Callaghan (great books of all time .txt) 📕

and Vito Castellini.  Robert purchased the property under an LLC so that he had some weight with city officials as a property owner, and then the trio started luring in the investors.”

Carlita picked up. “Robert got greedy. If they were messing with the mafia, they were playing with fire and Robert got burned.”

“I bet there’s also some sort of connection to the Black Stallion Club. Which reminds me, we need to ask Annie if she can tell us who owns the club.”

“Hey.” Annie covered her cell phone. “It’s gonna be seventy-five dollars for a quickie skip trace. Yes or no?”

“Ugh. Yes,” Carlita said. “I’m going to write this off as a business expense. Can they send me a bill?”

“Can you run the trace and then send me the bill?” Annie paused.  “Yeah. I can vouch for my client. Good. Okay. Call me back when you finish the trace.” Annie thanked the person on the other end and then disconnected the call. “He said the search will only take about ten minutes, tops.”

“We’ll wait here if you don’t mind,” Carlita said. “We also wondered if you could tell us who owns the Black Stallion Club. We think there may be a link.”

“Sure. I can check while we’re waiting.” Annie clicked the keys.  “The Black Stallion has been around for as long as I can remember. It’s kind of a rough joint. The place has had its share of black eyes, the occasional brawl, arrests and a few drug busts, but nothing serious enough to shut them down.”

Annie’s eyes grew wide. “Yeah, I got something.”

Annie’s cell phone chimed. “Hang on a sec. That’s the skip tracer.” She picked up the phone. “Annie Dowton speaking. Yes. Great. What did you find?” Annie reached for her pen. “Can you repeat that?”

She started scribbling furiously on her notepad and Mercedes lunged forward as she attempted to read what Annie was writing.

“I think this is exactly what we were looking for.  Go ahead and email the invoice to me along with the other piece of information linked to the Harner Street property. Thank you. I’ll be on the lookout for it.”

“I can’t stand this.” Cindy hopped out of her chair and hustled to Annie’s desk.  She peeked over Annie’s shoulder to read the words her boss had jotted down.

Annie held up the scratch pad to show them the list of names. “This is the owner of East Coast Ventures, and the owner of 412 Harner Street.”

“We still have one more piece of pertinent information for you to look at before you start tossing out theories,” Annie warned. “Let me print off what I found on the Black Stallion Club.” The printer began to hum.

“I’ll grab it.” Cindy darted to the printer and pulled off the two sheets of paper. She handed them to Annie.

Annie took a quick glance at the papers. “The skip trace bill is on the bottom. Take a look at the top sheet.”

Carlita took the sheets from Annie. The print was small and she didn’t have her reading glasses, so she handed them to Mercedes. “What is this?”

Mercedes studied the sheet.  “The Harner Street property is…was owned by Robert Towns.”

“There’s something else.” Annie slid a second sheet of paper in front of them. “This is the name of the owner of the Black Stallion.”

Carlita’s breath caught in her throat.  “Pat,” she whispered.

“Pat Duce,” Annie confirmed.

“I think this is confirmation that we need to pay a visit to the Black Stallion,” Mercedes said.

Annie’s eyes lit. “Can I tag along?”

“Of course. I have to warn you Elvira will be with us.”

“That’s fine.” Annie waved a hand. “I can handle Elvira.”

“I’m not sure anyone can handle Elvira.”

Chapter 21

“I don’t like the looks of this place.” Carlita eyed the flashing neon sign above the entrance to the Black Stallion Club.

She turned to Annie. “You sure you don’t want to change your mind?”

“No.” Annie shook her head and swallowed hard. “This place isn’t in the best part of town, but I’m good to go.”

“This place is a dump,” Elvira said. “Keep in mind we’re not here to critique the charm and allure of the establishment.” She turned to Mercedes. “You packing heat?”

“No. I tried, but Ma pointed out if the doorman searches us or our purses and finds a weapon, they will turn us away.”

“I guess we’ll have to take our chances and keep a low profile.” Elvira squared her shoulders and marched to the front entrance.

Carlita followed Elvira, and Mercedes and Annie brought up the rear.

The doorman’s arm shot out, almost clotheslining Elvira. “Hang on.”

Elvira batted at his arm. “What seems to be the problem?”

“I need to check your ID.”

Elvira reached into her front pocket and pulled out her driver’s license. “Check my ID? I can tell you one thing, I’m over twenty-one.”

“I’m sure you are.” The man glanced at the driver’s license and handed it back.  “There’s a five-dollar cover charge.”

“You charge five bucks just to walk into this dump?” Elvira gasped.

Carlita shoved her hand into her purse and pulled out her wallet.  “I’ve got the money.” She handed the man a twenty-dollar bill.  “There are four of us.”

The man took the twenty. “The cover charge is for the jazz band Smooth Sully and the River Rats.”

“They suck,” Elvira snarled.  “Cool Bones and the Jazz Boys are ten times better.”

“No one is forcing you inside.” The man glared at Elvira and she scowled back, grumbling under her breath as she stepped out of the way.

“Let it go Elvira,” Carlita warned. “Remember, we’re not here to cause a scene.”

“Right.” Elvira led them past the bar, circled around the front of the stage and then pointed to an empty table near the back. “Over there. I’ll take the