Family Feud in Savannah: A Garlucci Family Saga (Made in Savannah Mystery Series Book 16)

by Hope Callaghan

  Carlita started laughing.

  “Gunner is smart.”

  “I’m heading out. Sam and I are meeting downtown for dinner.” Mercedes shoved her phone in her pocket. “What are you doing for dinner?”

  “Gunner and I will figure something out. Maybe I’ll call Reese to see what she’s up to.” Carlita had been promising her friend, a local trolley driver, that they would get together soon to catch up.

  Since her trolley route only ran until dusk, she sent Reese a text. Reese promptly called back. “Hey, Carlita.”

  “Hey, Reese. I’m looking for a dinner date.”

  “I’m your gal. I’m finishing my last round and can pick you up.”

  “I was thinking I could grab something from the restaurant, and we can enjoy a leisurely dinner in my courtyard.”

  “Sounds great. I’ll meet you there.”

  After ending the call, Carlita fed Gunner. Feeling a tinge of guilt for leaving him alone in a strange house, she turned the television on for background noise before heading out.

  Her first stop was Ravello’s where she grabbed dinner for two before stepping onto the sidewalk.

  Clang. Clang. Reese and her trolley, the Big Peach, pulled alongside the curb. She gave Carlita a quick wave before darting down the steps. “Sorry if I’m late. Traffic has been a nightmare lately.”

  “You’re right on time. I just picked up our food.” Carlita handed the containers to Reese. She unlocked the courtyard gate and then led her friend inside.

  “This place looks great.” Reese admired the blooming pink and yellow roses.

  “Thanks. I’ve been working on sprucing it up. Let’s eat over here.” Carlita set the food on a bistro table near the back, nestled among the dogwood’s crisp white blossoms. “I guess I don’t have to ask if you’re staying busy.”

  “It’s been crazy.” Reese slid into an empty chair. “Trolley tours are selling out by noon.”

  During dinner, the friends chatted about the upcoming Fourth of July festivities, and then the conversation drifted to Carlita’s new neighbor as she filled her in on the confrontation. Reese offered a sympathetic ear and attempted to give advice.

  “I guess I need to accept the fact that I can’t always control what goes on around me.”

  “Keep your chin up.” Reese finished the rest of her sweet tea and reluctantly stood. “I better get going. I need to get the trolley back to the parking garage.”

  Carlita gathered up the empty containers. She escorted her friend out of the courtyard, pulling the gate shut behind them. “Hopefully, you won’t run into any trolley traffic jams on your way back.”

  Reese tapped Carlita’s shoulder. “Speaking of construction and detours, your street is blocked.”

  Chapter 4

  Carlita craned her neck, her heart sinking when she spied a pair of orange and white barricades. A detour sign led them away from Ravello’s and then circled back around…right past Sandy Sue’s Bar-B-Que. “The city can’t close streets without giving business owners notice.”

  “I don’t think it was the city.” Reese motioned toward a man wearing a yellow vest and directing traffic right into the barbecue joint’s parking lot.

  Car after car filled the parking area and spilled into an overflow lot near the back.

  There were balloons, signs, and flashing lights. Alongside the restaurant was a row of black smokers with plumes of thick smoke pouring out of them.

  “I…thought Jarvis told me their grand opening wasn’t until next week.”

  “If this isn’t the grand opening, I hate to see how bad traffic is gonna get when they do have it.”

  Carlita marched across the parking lot to where the attendant stood directing traffic. “What is going on?”

  “I’m directing traffic.”

  “Remove the barricades,” she demanded. “If you don’t, I’ll do it myself.”

  “I.” The man stumbled back. He turned on his heel and hurried off.

  Reese joined her friend. “This is a safety hazard.”

  “And probably not even legal,” Carlita fumed.

  The man returned, accompanied by a second man, this one wearing a three-piece suit. He gave Carlita the once over. “What seems to be the problem?”

  “You can’t close the street.”

  “My employee is directing traffic.”

  “To your restaurant,” Carlita gritted out. “Remove the roadblocks.”

  “No.”

  “I’m calling the police.” Carlita’s hand shook as she pulled her cell phone from her pocket. She dialed the non-emergency number and asked the dispatcher to send a patrol car after briefly explaining the situation.

  The man in the suit smirked, waiting until she ended the call. “You must be Carlita Garlucci. My wife said you stopped by here yesterday whining about some construction material in your dumpster.”

  “Whining?” Carlita clenched her fists. “Your crew discarded construction waste in my dumpster without a permit or my permission. The city fined me.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  Reese placed a light hand on Carlita’s arm. “Let’s wait over here for the police.”

  Carlita let her friend lead her back to the trolley stop. Tony arrived moments later. “You see this mess? I called the cops.”

  “Me too,” Carlita muttered. “They’re not going to get away with this.”

  Reese jangled her keys. “I gotta get the trolley back to the garage before they lock the gate. Thanks for dinner.” She wished Carlita luck and promised to call later.

  The trolley pulled away, and a patrol car took its place. Carlita watched as the officer approached the two men. He had a brief word with them and began motioning toward the roadblocks. The suited man’s smug expression vanished as he and the other man began removing the barricades.

  “Good. These people can’t just take over Walton Square. They act like they own the neighborhood.”

  “Not by a long shot.” Tony blew air through thinned lips. “If they keep this crap up, some heads are gonna roll.”

  The officer waited until the signs were gone and traffic was once again moving. Meanwhile, the suited man disappeared inside the restaurant. He returned with two to-go containers and handed them to the cop.

  “Great,” Carlita sighed. “The jerk is bribing the cop with food.”

  The officer joined them. “Mr. Jarvis claims there was some sort of misunderstanding. He asked me to apologize to you. Is there anything else you need from me?”

  “No. Thank you for getting here so quickly.” The officer climbed into his patrol car and drove off, passing by another long line of cars as they made their way into the barbecue restaurant’s parking area.

  “C’mon, Ma. There’s nothing you can do.” Tony escorted his mother to the pawn shop. “I don’t like how they’re playing dirty. We’ll keep an eye on them.”

  Carlita wandered to the front window. “First, they’re dumping their trash in our bins, and now they’re diverting traffic to their restaurant. What’s next? Burn our restaurant to the ground?”

  “They’re getting a little buzz seeing how they’re the new kids in town. Once the newness wears off, their business will die down.”

  “I hope so.” To take her mind off her new neighbors, Carlita began running the end of day sales numbers while Tony placed the jewelry cases and weapons inside the store’s safe. After finishing, she flipped the door sign, her eyes drifting to the barbecue restaurant.

  The parking lot was empty now. There were still a few lights on inside and a spotlight out back. Her nagging concern returned. Would Sandy Sue’s drive Ravello’s out of business?

  There were plenty of restaurants in Savannah. Good restaurants. Great restaurants. Even Pirate Pete owned a restaurant – but not directly across the street from hers. And the other restaurants were not playing dirty, diverting traffic from other businesses to theirs.

  Tony joined her. “I have a few extra minutes before heading
home. Why don’t you, me and Rambo go for a walk?”

  “That would be nice.” Touched by her son’s thoughtfulness, Carlita forced a smile. They stepped into the alley and she waited on the stoop while Tony ran upstairs to get Rambo.

  Thrilled to be out of the apartment, the pup scampered down the stairs. He skidded around the corner and nearly bowled Carlita over in his excitement to be outdoors.

  “Hang on, fella.” Tony attached Rambo’s leash before starting their walk.

  They strolled past Shades of Ink, Steve Winters’ tattoo shop, making their way to the corner. Instead of turning left, they made a right, passing by Colby’s Corner Store, followed by the Book Nook.

  Although the bookstore was closed, Carlita could see the soft glow of a desk lamp somewhere in the back. Which wasn’t unusual – Cricket Tidwell, the owner and Mercedes’ friend, lived above the quaint shop.

  They circled around and then continued on for one more block, strolling past the Parrot House Restaurant. The restaurant was open late, and a quick glance in the front window revealed several diners still inside.

  “Do you think we should keep longer hours?” Carlita asked. “I mean, to draw in more people.”

  “No. I think closing at nine gives diners plenty of time to eat.” Tony tightened his grip on Rambo’s leash as the pup made a mad dash for a trash can. “Are you still worried about Sandy Sue?”

  “Yeah.” Carlita sucked in a breath. “I’m getting a bad feeling about the place.”

  They made another turn and began heading back home, pausing briefly so that Tony could do a quick check of the property.

  Mother and son made another stop in front of the courtyard where Carlita admired her newly installed solar lanterns that lit the entrance and walkway.

  Ravello’s was their last stop. They checked to make sure, once again, the interior and exterior surveillance cameras and alarm were all working. Carlita pressed her forehead against the glass and peered inside.

  “Hey, Ma.”

  “What?” Carlita spun around.

  “Check it out.” Tony jabbed his thumb in the direction of Sandy Sue’s.

  Two patrol cars were parked in front of the restaurant’s entrance.

  “I wonder what’s going on,” Carlita muttered.

  “Who knows?” Tony shrugged.

  They finished their walk near Carlita’s back door. She let Rambo in first and then turned her attention to her son, who had suddenly grown quiet. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yeah.” Tony started to say something else and then paused.

  She studied his face. “Are you sure?”

  “I dunno…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Shelby’s been actin’ weird.”

  “Weird as in how?”

  “Secretive and kinda crazy. Like one minute she’s Shelby and the next she’s screaming at Violet, screaming at me not to mention throwing things.”

  Carlita pressed a hand to her chest. “Is she…has she been violent?”

  “Not yet, but as mad as she’s getting lately at the minor things, I’m thinkin’ it’s possible.”

  “What sort of minor things?”

  “Violet leaving toys on the floor. Me forgetting to take out the trash, stuff like that.”

  Carlita had noticed a change in Shelby. It started not long after Christmas when she began making excuses for not joining them for family dinners.

  Because of Shelby’s Addison’s disease, Carlita had written it off, suspecting she wasn’t feeling well. “Do you think it may have something to do with her disease, maybe a change in a prescription drug she’s taking?”

  “I think she’s on drugs and not the one from her doctor,” he said bluntly. “I can’t prove it, but she’s hanging around this so-called friend, Melanie. She’s been taking off in the evening, leaving me ‘n Violet at home.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “I’m at my wit’s end. I noticed some odd bruises on her arms last night. When I mentioned them to her, she freaked out. Maybe you could try talking to her.” Tony shifted his feet. His eyes met his mother’s eyes. The look of concern was palpable.

  “I’ll do it. Tomorrow morning if you want.”

  “How ‘bout tomorrow night instead? You can come by for dinner. You and Mercedes.” Tony wasn’t one to go looking for trouble. In fact, of her three sons, he was the most laid-back and level-headed.

  “We’ll be there.” Carlita patted his arm. “In the meantime, I am concerned about Violet. If you think it would be best, please bring her by on your way to work in the morning. Mercedes and I will watch her.”

  “I’ll mention it to Shelby. Maybe she’s stressed out and needs a break.”

  Tony thanked his mother. With shoulders hunched, he trudged off toward home. She said a small prayer for him as he made his way up the stairs.

  Back inside the apartment, she flipped through the television channels. Nothing caught her eye, so she turned it off and settled in front of the computer. Her son’s admission, not to mention Sandy Sue and her antics, weighed heavily on Carlita’s mind. She couldn’t shake the feeling Sandy Sue and her husband were bad news.

  She typed in Sandy Sue’s Bar-B-Que and skimmed through several stories about the restaurant. There was a picture of the woman Carlita had met earlier. She stood next to the man in the three-piece suit. Beneath the picture was the caption, “Sandy Sue and Carl Jarvis.”

  The attached story was lengthy – a glowing report that went into great detail about the food being served as well as the couple’s history. According to the story, they had recently sold their interest in Big Hog’s BBQ to former partner, Gordon Coldwater. The restaurant was in a strip mall near the highway.

  There were several quotes from the couple, laying out their plans for starting a new business venture and specifically mentioned the new restaurant across from Carlita. With each revelation, she grew more concerned, not to mention discouraged.

  Sandy Sue and Carl Jarvis were planning to conquer the “restaurant world.” Depressed, she finally shut her computer off.

  Pete called to check in while she was getting ready for bed. They talked briefly, and she was thrilled to hear he thought he’d found a partner for his St. Augustine venture.

  Carlita congratulated him on the exciting news and then crawled into bed. Sleep eluded her. She was still awake when Mercedes returned from her date with Sam.

  She finally fell asleep, but it was a restless sleep. Carlita woke early the next morning and stumbled to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

  She could hear Gunner stirring in his cage. She lifted the cage’s cover and found the parrot staring at her. “Gunner is hungry.”

  “I’m sure you are. I’ll get you something to eat.”

  “Eggs, bacon, bagel.”

  Carlita consulted the instructions Pete had given her. “You can have some scrambled eggs or shredded wheat.”

  Gunner repeated his breakfast order.

  “Shredded wheat it is.” Carlita crumbled the wheat before placing it on a small plate and setting it inside his cage. “Bon appétit.”

  She fixed her own breakfast, consisting of the bagel Gunner insisted he wanted. She slathered a thick layer of cream cheese on both sides and carried that, along with a cup of coffee, to the balcony.

  As soon as Gunner finished his food, he began a long litany of phrases, some Carlita had heard before and even a few new ones. “Sandy Sue sucks.”

  “Gunner,” Carlita chided. “Now, where on earth did you hear that?”

  “Gunner is handsome.”

  She finished her breakfast and then poured another cup of coffee before resuming her spot. Early mornings were her favorite. She loved the quiet peacefulness of the day before the hustle and bustle of the busy city sprang to life.

  Her eyes drifted to the dumpster, and she wondered if the crew across the street had been brazen enough to dump more stuff. She downed the rest of her coffee, determined to find out for herself.

  Than
kfully, there was no sign of construction debris. The items she and Mercedes had removed were still piled up nearby.

  On her way back to the apartment, she caught a glimpse of a car turning into the alley. Not giving it a second thought, she made her way back inside the building. Carlita was halfway up the steps when the doorbell rang.

  Returning to the door, she checked the peephole. Her breath caught in her throat when she discovered who was standing on the other side.

  Chapter 5

  Carlita’s first thought when she saw the vaguely familiar uniformed police officer standing on her stoop, was that something terrible had happened to Tony or Shelby. “Hello.”

  “Good morning. Mrs. Garlucci?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m not sure if you remember me.”

  Carlita glanced at his nametag. “Officer Thryce. Actually, I do…vaguely.”

  The officer reached into his pocket and removed a notepad. “Are you the owner of Ravello’s Italian Eatery?”

  “I am.”

  “The owner of the barbecue restaurant across the street was robbed at gunpoint last night.”

  Carlita’s eyes widened. “It was?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Mrs. Jarvis claims you were involved in an altercation yesterday, only hours before the robbery.”

  “I wouldn’t call it an altercation. Her construction crew dumped some of their construction debris into my dumpster. I went over to her restaurant to ask them to stop.”

  “Is that all?”

  “No. She also blocked our street without getting approval from the city, so my son and I called you fine folks to force her and her husband to remove the blockades.”

  “Were you on her property last night after nine?”

  “You can’t possibly think I’m responsible for robbing Sandy Sue Jarvis.”

  “I’ll repeat my question. Were you on her property last evening?”

  “Of course not,” Carlita snapped. “And I don’t appreciate the woman insinuating I had anything to do with what happened to her. Why would I do such a thing?”

  “She’s a competitor. You two have restaurants only a stone’s throw from one another.” Thryce tapped the tip of his pen on the notepad. “Regarding this neighborhood, have you noticed any recent odd occurrences, anything that sticks out in your mind?”