“I talked to Elvira a few minutes ago to let her know what happened since the cops will want to speak with her. And don’t forget, you put your name on the information list, so the cops are gonna show up on your doorstep asking a bunch of questions.”
A sick feeling settled in the pit of Carlita’s stomach. Dernice was right. She had been one of the last people to see the woman alive, and her name was on Coastal Adventure’s information signup sheet. Her name, her email address. “The police will quickly clear me. I just met the woman yesterday.”
“But you do know my sister, who happens to own the property where the woman’s body was found. That’s not all.”
“You mean there’s more good news?” Carlita asked sarcastically.
Dernice gave her a dark look.
“I’m sorry, Dernice. My comment was uncalled for. What is it?”
“Remember when Turbell reacted oddly at the mention of Elvira’s name? My hunch was right. They know each other. Turbell had been harping on Elvira, nagging her to sell. She called Elvira after we left yesterday.”
“Maybe Kim Turbell talked to Elvira and stopped by there afterward to have a look around.”
“Which is when we ran into her,” Dernice said.
Carlita stepped off the stoop and began to pace. “It was a setup.”
“In an empty building?”
“I don’t know.” Frustrated at Elvira’s unwillingness to cooperate, anger suddenly welled up in Carlita. “Your sister is content to focus on taking care of her personal affairs while you’re left behind to handle everything else, and now I’m involved.”
“I’m sorry, Carlita. I thought I owed you a heads up.” Dernice rubbed her hand across her brow. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this.”
Carlita sighed heavily. “What about Zulilly? Interestingly, the incidents around here have escalated since she blew into town.”
“She didn’t kill the woman.” A look of doubt crossed Dernice’s face. “At least I don’t think so.”
“How well do you know your niece?”
“We’re not close, as you can probably guess. I lived in California for years, and then there was that stint in prison, so we haven’t kept in contact.”
“Do you think Zulilly has an alibi?”
“Hard telling. She’s been secretive about her movements. I’m not sure if she’s working for her father or for her mother at this point.” Dernice waved her phone in the air. “I have the address of the place where Elvira is staying. I’m almost positive she’s renting a room in downtown St. Augustine.”
“Send me the address.” An idea started to form in Carlita’s head. “I’m going down there to confront your sister before the police start pounding on my door.”
“I wish I could go with you, but I can’t leave the businesses unattended. I mentioned it to Zu about her going down to talk to her mother, but she didn’t seem interested. I overheard a conversation last night she was having with her father. I’m beginning to think he may be behind some of this.”
“The woman’s death?”
“Maybe. Or whoever has been messing around our place.”
“I’m sure I can persuade Mercedes to go with me.” Carlita waited for Dernice to send the text with Elvira’s address. After the text came through, she clicked on the link, and a map of St. Augustine popped up. “I have a favor to ask.”
“What?”
“Don’t tell Elvira I’m heading her way. I want it to be a surprise.”
A slow grin spread across Dernice’s face. “I like your way of thinking.” She made a zipping motion across her lips. “My lips are sealed.”
*****
Carlita promised to keep Dernice in the loop on her surprise visit before making a beeline for the pawn shop. After mapping out the location, she discovered it would take nearly three hours to drive to St. Augustine.
She would have to move fast. She needed to let Tony know she was leaving, throw some things into a suitcase, ask Autumn to keep an eye on the pets and last, but not least, convince Mercedes to go with her.
She was able to pull Tony aside long enough to explain she needed to have a face-to-face chat with Elvira.
“How long you gonna be gone?”
“My plan is to be back sometime tomorrow.” She consulted her watch. “It’s a three-hour drive from here. If I can convince Mercedes to go with me, we’ll make it there by early evening. We’ll get up tomorrow morning and track down Elvira.”
“If she’s still there,” Tony pointed out.
“She is, at least, according to Dernice. I want to get out of town before the cops show up on my doorstep. If they come by here looking for me, tell them I’m on a business trip and should be back tomorrow.”
“I hope this works out for you, Ma. You know how Elvira can be.”
“Which is why my plan is to catch her off guard. Dernice promised not to say anything. In fact, she wanted to go with me, but someone has to stay here to run the businesses.”
“Call if you need help.” Tony wished his mother luck, and she headed upstairs. She found Mercedes working on her laptop in the apartment. She briefly told her daughter about the trip and asked if she would tag along.
Mercedes wrinkled her nose. “St. Augustine?”
“Yeah. I mapped it. It’s only about three hours, straight down the highway with a turn toward the coast. We’ll hit the road as soon as we pack some things. We can give Autumn a call on the way to ask her to keep an eye on the pets. If not, I’m sure Tony and Shelby will take care of them.”
“Sure. I mean, there’s no way you should go alone.”
“Thanks, Mercedes.” Carlita consulted her watch. The clock was ticking, and it was only a matter of time before the authorities tracked her down.
To her credit, Mercedes was ready before her mother and waiting by the door. Carlita wasn’t far behind, after quickly cramming clothes into her overnight bag.
She plucked the keys off the hook and handed them to her daughter. “You’re the more experienced driver.”
“Not by much.”
It was a short drive to the interstate. Mercedes picked up speed as they merged onto the busy highway.
Carlita cast an anxious glance at an eighteen-wheeler looming over them in the next lane. “What’s up with all of the traffic?”
“Thanksgiving is next week. Everyone is heading to Florida for the holidays.”
The women encountered even heavier traffic when they reached Jacksonville, creeping all the way through the city before making it to the south end of town. Thankfully, the St. Augustine exit was just south of the city.
“How much farther?” Mercedes slowed for the vehicle ahead of them. “We turned off the highway a long time ago.”
Carlita studied her phone. “We’re close. Our turn is up here.”
“Do you have the address to where we’ll be staying?” Mercedes asked as they turned onto the road leading to the historic city.
“Staying?” Carlita blinked rapidly. “Crud. I was so busy trying to get out of town, I forgot about finding a place to stay.” She switched screens and began searching for area hotels. The ones near the highway were already booked.
She lucked out and found a vacancy at a bed and breakfast a couple blocks from the main drag. Carlita booked their room on her phone and slid it back into her purse. “Looks like we’ll be staying in the historic district.”
“It makes sense if that’s where Elvira is.”
St. Augustine’s downtown area was packed with pedestrians and pedicabs. A trolley, similar to the ones in Savannah, passed them going in the opposite direction.
“This reminds me of home,” Carlita joked.
“Me too. I would rather be walking.” Mercedes slammed on the brakes as a couple darted onto the road and directly into their path. “People need to watch where they’re going.”
After making a wrong turn and circling the downtown area, they reached the inn Carlita had booked. Check-in was quick and easy. Their s
hared room was on the second floor. It sported a set of twin beds with an antique dresser separating them. The adjoining bath was small but had everything they needed.
Carlita set her makeup bag on the narrow bathroom counter and limped into the bedroom area. “I need to stretch my legs, and I’m starving. Let’s go explore and find somewhere to eat.”
“I’m ready.”
On their way out, they stopped by the small reception area to ask about restaurants within walking distance.
“Are you looking for something historic – perhaps maybe even haunted?”
“Yes.” Mercedes clapped her hands. “The more haunted, the better.”
“Then I recommend Scarlett O’Hara’s. It’s listed in the National Directory of Haunted Places and is rumored to be inhabited by the man who built the house in 1879. Make sure you visit the Ghost Bar upstairs.”
“No.” Carlita nudged her daughter. “Nothing haunted.”
The woman chuckled as she handed them a map of downtown. “My second recommendation is Harry’s Seafood Bar and Grille. The food is fantastic. It’s two blocks up. You can’t miss it. It’s on the main strip.”
Carlita thanked her for the suggestion and followed Mercedes onto the front porch. The Florida fall air was warmer than what they’d left behind in Savannah. “The weather is perfect. I don’t even need a jacket.”
Although the city reminded Carlita of Savannah, she thought Savannah’s courtyards, the tree-lined streets and the canopy live oaks dripping with moss topped St. Augustine in the cozy charm department.
Mother and daughter found Harry’s easily enough. It was busy for a Friday evening. They wandered past several tables to the check-in stand, admiring the lush landscape along the way.
Carlita added her name to the waitlist, and several minutes passed before they were led to a courtyard bistro table for two.
Mercedes perused the menu. “Everything looks delicious. A New Orleans’ Style Restaurant.” She read the menu’s description. “We should try a local specialty.”
While they waited for their food to arrive, the women enjoyed the balmy temperatures and acoustic guitar player. Their food arrived, and they sampled each other’s dishes, both proclaiming theirs to be the best.
Carlita was hungrier than she realized and polished off her dinner in record time. After paying for the meal, the women wandered out onto the sidewalk.
“Check it out.” Carlita pointed to the fort across the street.
“I read about it earlier. It’s the Castillo de San Marcos.” Mercedes studied the sign adjacent to the parking lot. “It’s closed for the day.”
“Crud. Now what?”
Not ready to return to their cramped room, they meandered through the historic district, stopping when they stumbled upon a walking tour in progress.
“…and if you’re here late at night after everyone has gone home, listen closely. You might hear the bell ringing from the grave.”
The tour guide, dressed in a long cape and top hat, motioned for his group to follow him.
“Let’s see where they go,” Mercedes whispered.
Carlita reluctantly followed her daughter as they trailed behind them. The tour group circled the cemetery before crossing to St. George Street.
The guide stopped every few feet to point out landmarks or give them a little history. Carlita found the most interesting stop was the one of the oldest wooden schoolhouse in the United States. It dated back to the seventeen hundreds.
“I feel like we should pay for the tour.” Carlita pointed to a sticker one of the women was wearing. “These people all paid.”
“We’ll wait until the tour is over.”
The group continued down St. George Street before crossing to the Castillo, the oldest masonry fort in the continental United States.
Spotlights illuminated the imposing walls. “The Castillo is one of only two fortifications in the world built out of a semi-rare form of limestone called coquina.” He pointed to the spotlights. “As with many historic structures in St. Augustine, the Castillo is rumored to be haunted, in this case by an Indian war chief. If you tilt your head and squint your eyes, you may be able to see his profile on the fort wall.”
Carlita nudged her daughter. “I don’t see anything.”
“Me, either.”
The ghost tour ended on the sidewalk near the fort’s entrance. Several people in the group thanked the guide, and a few even handed him a tip. Carlita and Mercedes hung back and waited for the crowd to fade away.
“We thoroughly enjoyed your tour,” Carlita said.
“You were part of the group? I don’t recall meeting you.”
“We weren’t.” Mercedes shook her head. “We joined the group after you started. How much do we owe you?”
“I appreciate your honesty.” The man removed his top hat. “The ticket booth is closed. I have no way to process your payment. We’ll catch you next time.”
“We would at least like to give you a tip.” Carlita fumbled inside her purse, pulled out a ten-dollar bill and handed it to him.
“Thank you.” He shoved the money into his jacket pocket. “Is this your first visit to the area?”
“It is,” Carlita said. “We’re here to track down a friend.”
They made small talk before thanking the guide again and began walking in the direction of the inn. The women made several wrong turns. At one point, Carlita was certain they had made a complete circle. “We’ve been by here before.”
“You’re right. I think we need to go this way.” Mercedes led her mother away from the touristy district.
They walked for a couple of blocks and then slowed. “I think we made another wrong turn.”
“I don’t recognize this street. Let’s backtrack.” Up ahead, Carlita caught a glimpse of the main road. “I recognize the street down there.”
They were almost to the corner when a man stepped out of the shadows, blocking their path.
Chapter 13
“You got some spare change?”
Mercedes grabbed her mother’s arm and sidestepped the man, attempting to pass.
He moved quickly, easily blocking their path, and a bolt of fear shot down Carlita’s spine.
“I said…do you have some change you can spare?”
“No. We don’t,” Mercedes replied in a firm voice. “Step aside.”
“I think you do.” The man lunged forward.
Mercedes pivoted, jamming her elbow into the man’s ribs.
“Oof,” he grunted as he doubled over.
“Run!” Mercedes propelled her mother forward, neither of them slowing until they reached the main street.
Carlita leaned forward, gasping for air. “I never even saw him until it was too late.”
“I think we were about to be robbed.”
“He had no idea what he was up against. I’m proud of you, Mercedes. You kept your cool. Where’s your gun when you need it?”
“Back home in my dresser drawer. We were in such a hurry, I forgot it.”
Determined to avoid a repeat of the incident, the women stopped at the nearest open shop to ask for directions, only to discover they were heading the wrong way.
They were soon on the right path. Carlita and Mercedes didn’t talk as they briskly walked back to the inn.
The employee they chatted with on the way out was still seated behind the desk. “How was dinner?”
“Delicious,” Mercedes said. “We had a small incident on the way back. A man in an alley was panhandling and wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. It’s wise to stay on the main streets after dark.”
“We found that out the hard way.” Carlita thanked the woman for the dinner suggestion.
Back inside their room, they turned the television on and flipped through the channels until they found one that featured the upcoming local events. “It’s amazing how many similarities there are between St. Augustine and Savannah.”
They
watched the program until it ended and decided it was time to turn in. Carlita wanted to get up early to track Elvira down before heading home.
She waited for Mercedes to finish in the bathroom and then slipped inside to change into her pajamas and brush her teeth.
The lights were off with only the dim glow of the nightstand’s alarm clock to guide her as she crept across the room to her bed. Carlita eased onto the edge.
Creak. The springs creaked loudly. She slowly lowered onto the side, causing the bed to creak again. “Sorry,” she whispered.
“Mine is doing the same.” Mercedes flopped over, and her bed creaked.
A small groan escaped Carlita’s lips as she settled in. The left half of the mattress was lumpy, and it sagged in the center. She wiggled to the side to find a more comfortable position. It was a downhill slide, so she moved to the other side, all the while the bed creaked.
“You okay, Ma?” Mercedes asked after her umpteenth move.
“I can’t get comfortable.”
“You wanna switch beds?”
“Do you think it will help?”
Mercedes giggled. “No. My mattress feels like it’s filled with bricks.”
“Same here, except mine has needles sticking out of it.”
“And my pillow is flatter than a pancake.”
The women burst out laughing.
“This has been a day,” Carlita sighed.
“It has, but at least we’re together. We don’t do enough mother-daughter stuff.”
“You’re right. We don’t.” Carlita slipped her hand under her head. “We’re so busy at home with all of the businesses, your book writing, not to mention fitting Sam into your schedule.”
“It is busy.” Mercedes grew quiet. “Do you miss home?”
“We’ll be back tomorrow, whether we find Elvira or not.”
“No. I mean, New York.”
“I…” Carlita’s voice trailed off. Did she miss New York? She had lived there most of her adult life. They had only been in Savannah for a couple of years. Despite the short amount of time, Savannah felt like home, in some ways more than Queens ever had.
“I miss your father,” Carlita replied softly, “but I don’t miss Queens. I sometimes wonder what life would be like for us if your father was still alive.”
Exes and Woes: A Garlucci Family Saga Novel (Made in Savannah Mystery Series Book 14) Page 7
