Setup in Savannah: A Made in Savannah Cozy Mystery (Made in Savannah Cozy Mysteries Series Book 7)

by Hope Callaghan

  “I wouldn’t be surprised,” Carlita murmured. She waited while her daughter hung her helmet on the Segway’s handlebar before climbing the stairs and making their way into the apartment.

  Carlita’s grandchildren were sprawled out on the living room floor watching television while Tony, Paulie and Gina were seated at the dining room table.

  Paulie turned. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah…uh.” Mercedes shot her mother a quick glance. “I was having a little trouble with my Segway, so Ma drove over to help out,” she fibbed.

  “Segways sound fun.” Paulie glanced at his wife.

  “They sound dangerous,” Gina turned to Carlita. “I brought you a couple bags of your favorite bagels from Blumenthal’s. I thought we could have ‘em for breakfast. They’re down in my suitcase.”

  Paulie, Gina and the kids were staying in Tony’s downstairs apartment while Tony camped out on Carlita’s sofa bed.

  “I’ll go get them,” Paulie said.

  Gina waved her hand. “Nah. They’re packed away and you’ll never find them. It’ll only take me a second.”

  “I left Tony’s apartment door unlocked,” Paulie said.

  “I’ll be right back.” Gina hurried out of the apartment, leaving the door ajar.

  Carlita waited until she heard the click of her heels on the stairs before turning to her youngest son. “How’s it goin’?”

  Paulie shrugged. “It’s hard to tell with Gina. She’s cranky cuz of her havin’ to deal with the kids and the layover at the airport. I probably won’t know until tomorrow. At least she’s not insisting I take her back to the airport.”

  “True.” Carlita picked up a slice of the rustic Italian flatbread and bit the end. The pungent aroma of fresh basil wafted up. “I think these would’ve been better if I woulda added a layer of pesto.”

  “They’re perfect the way they are, Ma,” Tony said. “Did you want to talk to Gina about havin’ a small dinner party and invitin’ Shelby and Violet?”

  “Of course. I think that would be nice.” She started to tell them what she planned to serve when a commotion out in the hallway interrupted the conversation.

  “Well, I don’t know who you think you are, but you can take your New York attitude right on back there!”

  Chapter 3

  “Uh-oh,” Carlita said. “I think Gina and Elvira just met.” She sprang from the chair and darted out into the hallway where Gina and Elvira stood glaring at each other at the top of the stairs. “What’s going on?”

  “This…” Elvira waved her hands wildly. “Buttinsky told me I can’t leave my easel down in the hallway.” She lowered her voice, “Because it’s in her way,” Elvira said, nearly nailing Gina’s nasally voice.

  Carlita covered her mouth to hide the grin. She’d suspected Gina and Elvira would clash and it appeared she was correct. “I’m sorry if Elvira’s easel is in your way.” She turned to her tenant. “Perhaps we can put it in front of the storage closet instead.”

  “Why?” Elvira clenched her fists. “Is it gonna kill her to take two more steps to walk around it?”

  “Elvira,” Carlita soothed. “This is a non-issue. I’m sure Gina is concerned one of her children will trip over it or that they might knock it over and bust it.” The explanation sounded plausible to Carlita.

  “Promise me this woman isn’t moving into the building and I’ll move it,” Elvira said.

  “She’s not moving in,” Carlita said.

  “Fine. I’ll move it.” Elvira stomped down the steps, picked up the easel and dropped it in front of the closet door before stomping back up. “I hope you’re happy.”

  “Infinitely,” Gina smiled smugly, and when Elvira shot her a dirty look, Gina gave Elvira’s back the one-finger salute as she marched to her apartment door.

  Elvira turned back once and scowled at them before stepping inside her apartment and slamming the door shut.

  The pictures on the hall wall rattled.

  Gina curled her lip. “What a piece of trash. Whatcha’ doin’ letting nasty people like her live here? I’m half tempted to move in just to tick her off.”

  Carlita followed Gina into the apartment and quietly closed the door behind them. “That would set off some fireworks.”

  “I see Gina met Elvira,” Tony said. “Better up our liability insurance before those two get into a knockdown drag out fight and someone gets hurt.”

  Gina flicked her wrist and studied her fingernails. “All I can say is she better not mess with Gina Garlucci. She’s more than met her match. The woman got me so ticked off, I forgot about the bagels.”

  “I’ll get them.” Paulie sprang from his chair. He exited the apartment, returning a short time later with three bags of bagels.

  Gracie wandered to her father’s side. She began rubbing her eyes and pressed her head against his leg. “My tummy hurts.”

  Paulie picked her up. “We should get the kids to bed,” he told his wife.

  “Yeah. It’s been a long day.” Gina gathered the other two children while Paulie thanked Tony for letting them use his apartment for the next few days.

  After they were gone, Tony helped his mother pull out the sleeper sofa.

  “Thanks for bein’ such a good sport about letting Paulie and them use your apartment.”

  “No problem, Ma. Don’t be gettin’ your hopes up too high that Gina’s gonna wanna move down here.”

  “I’m trying not to.”

  Mercedes carried an armful of pillows into the living room and tossed them on top of the bed.

  “What happened to the guy down by the river?” Tony asked. “Was it the one you were supposed to meet?”

  “Yeah. Someone shot him.” Mercedes told her brother the story, how she’d been talking to Jon Luis, a well-known local author, about an old murder investigation and how they’d planned to meet down by the river that evening. “Like I told Ma, it was kinda weird because he didn’t want to meet in a public place or during the day.”

  “And he just happened to get clipped right before he met you,” Tony said. “Anybody else know about the meetin’?”

  “Now that you mention it, the other authors in my group knew. We were all excited about it because we figured he had an inside scoop about an old, high profile unsolved murder case.”

  “You need to tell the police,” Carlita said, “so they can check it out.”

  “Yeah,” Tony agreed. “Seems suspicious to me that he died the same night of your meeting and others knew about it.”

  “I’ll call Detective Wilson first thing in the morning.” Mercedes lifted both hands over her head and stretched her back. “Right now, I’m beat.”

  Carlita wasn’t far behind her daughter and turned in a short time later. It had been a long day, or more precisely, a long evening. She lay there for a long time, wondering if Gina and Paulie had patched things up.

  She was excited to spend time with her grandchildren and mentally ticked off the list of fun things she had planned.

  Her mind wandered to Jon Luis, the man Mercedes had planned to meet. What if Mercedes had arrived at the meeting spot early and ran into the killer? Even with a pistol-packing Autumn close by, the killer could’ve easily shot Mercedes before Autumn was able to reach her.

  Carlita made a mental note to remind Mercedes to contact Detective Wilson the next morning and share the fact the other authors in her group knew about the planned meeting.

  What if someone had it in for Jon Luis and the person was desperate to keep him from talking to Mercedes? If that was the case, was Mercedes’ life in danger? Carlita’s stomach churned at the thought.

  Somehow, she had to convince her daughter to bow out of the author group, or at least avoid them until the authorities tracked down Jon Luis’ killer.

  Her last thought as she drifted off to sleep was the confrontation between Elvira and Gina. It was going to be a long week, especially if the two of them continued to cross paths. She couldn’t think of two more bullheade
d people than her troublesome tenant and daughter-in-law.

  Carlita was the first one up the next morning and she tiptoed through the living room to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Although she tried to keep quiet, Tony started to stir and finally crawled out of bed.

  “You gotta do somethin’ about the metal bar on the sofa bed.” He rubbed his back. “It felt like I was sleepin’ on a tire jack.”

  “I’m sorry son. I had no idea it was so uncomfortable. Of course, I’ve never slept on it.” Carlita poured water in the back of the coffee maker and turned it on. “You wanna Blumenthal bagel?”

  “Sure.” He stepped into the kitchen to help his mother fix the bagels and after they finished toasting, Carlita slathered a thick layer of cream cheese on them while Tony poured two cups of coffee. They carried the bagels and coffee out onto the balcony.

  The early morning air was cool and crisp and Carlita shivered. “I need my sweater.” She hurried inside, grabbed her sweater off the chair and headed back to the deck. “I’m sorry about the bed. I got an air mattress around here somewhere. We can put it on top of the mattress.”

  They sat on the deck, chatting about the pawnshop business, Gina and Paulie’s visit and finally, the death of Jon Luis. “I’m thinkin’ the people in Mercedes’ author group need to be questioned,” Carlita said.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. Time for a refill.” Tony carried their empty coffee cups back inside while Carlita and Rambo stayed on the deck.

  Tony returned with the coffee and Mercedes trailing behind.

  “You’re up early.” Carlita took the coffee cup from her son.

  “I couldn’t sleep.” Mercedes eased into an empty chair. “I kept thinkin’ about Jon Luis, wondering how long he’d been there and how if I woulda been there a few minutes earlier, I mighta been a witness to his murder.”

  Tony sipped his coffee. “Didja notice anyone hanging around while you were waitin’ on the cops to show up?”

  “No, but now that you mention it, Autumn and I noticed a set of keys near his body. She took a few pictures and sent them to me. I’ll go get my phone.” Mercedes headed back inside and returned with her cell phone.

  She switched her phone on and clicked on the camera icon before scrolling through the screen. “Here they are.” She handed the phone to her brother.

  Tony tapped the screen to enlarge the picture. “Looks like a buncha keys. He was probably holdin’ onto ‘em when he got whacked and dropped ‘em on the way down.” He handed the phone to his mother.

  Carlita squinted her eyes and studied the photo. “Looks like car keys and house keys…but there is one that looks different.” She handed the phone to her daughter. “It’s the one with a plastic key tag.”

  “You’re right,” Mercedes said. “I have no idea what it is.” She switched the phone off and set it on the table. “I hope they track down the killer soon. This whole thing is creepin’ me out.”

  “You think someone in your writing group might be a suspect?” Carlita asked.

  “I hate to think of any of them as suspects.” Mercedes rattled off the names of the other authors. “There’s Tom Muldoon. He’s gotta be in his 50s. Tom writes thriller/suspense novels and lives out of town. He’s kinda quiet.”

  “Then there’s Stephanie Rumsfield. She’s older, a throwback from the hippie era. Stephanie writes Harlequin-type romance.” Mercedes wrinkled her nose. “She moved here from Montana with her boyfriend.”

  Mercedes told them the third was Cricket Tidwell. “She’s sweet as can be and writes crochet and cook books. She owns The Book Nook and lives above the store.”

  “What about the young guy, the one you met for coffee a few weeks back?” Carlita asked.

  “Austin Crawford? Austin writes historical mysteries set in the Civil War era. His dad is an author, too. I forget his name.”

  “All four of them knew you were meetin’ with this Jon Luis guy last night?” Tony asked.

  “Yeah. I mean. It’s kind of a big deal. Jon Luis is…was famous around these parts. Snagging an interview with him is unheard of,” Mercedes said.

  “You need to share all of this with Detective Wilson. Make sure to tell him your author group knew when and where you were meeting with Jon Luis,” Carlita said. “I wonder if Gina and the kids are up. I was thinkin’ about taking the kids to Morrell Park and Leopold’s for ice cream since it’s not gonna rain today.”

  Mercedes phone chirped and she flipped it over. “It’s the number for the police department, the station where Zachary works.”

  “It’s either him or Detective Wilson,” Carlita said. “You better answer it.”

  Mercedes nodded. “Hello?”

  “Yes, this is Mercedes Garlucci. Yes, Detective Wilson. I was going to call you…you do? He did?”

  Carlita leaned closer, eager to hear what the detective was saying.

  Mercedes’ eyes widened. “I told you last night. I never met Mr. Luis in my life. I have no idea why he had my address scribbled on a pad of paper inside his home.”

  Chapter 4

  “Maybe he was checkin’ you out before he met with you,” Tony said in a loud whisper.

  “Tell him about the other authors in your group,” Carlita added.

  Mercedes nodded. “Well, I was gonna call you anyways. I wanted to tell you I meet weekly with a group of other authors and we’ve been discussin’ Jon Luis. They all knew about our meetin’.”

  “I see. Okay. Yeah. I’m not leavin’ town.” Mercedes told the detective good-bye. “Jon Luis died of a single gunshot wound to the back of the head. It doesn’t sound like Detective Wilson is gonna look into questioning any of the authors in the group, but he is gonna question Autumn since she was packing heat last night. I think his plan is to try to pin Jon Luis’ death on me or Autumn.”

  “I figured Autumn’s gun was gonna get her in hot water one of these days.” Carlita wiggled out of the chair and stood. “There’s not much we can do about it this morning. I’m headin’ downstairs to check on Paulie and the family. They should be out of bed by now.”

  Tony and Mercedes followed their mother into the apartment where Grayvie, Carlita’s cat, gazed at them with mild interest. Carlita patted his head and scratched his ears. “Ever since I moved this table over by the door, Grayvie likes to sit on top and watch out the window.”

  Rambo waited until Carlita shut the door before bolting through the doggie door. “And this stinker refuses to use anything but his doggie door.” She rubbed his back before giving a small treat to each of her pets. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Carlita exited the apartment and made her way to Tony’s apartment where she could hear the excited chatter of her grandchildren through the closed door. She rapped lightly and Paulie opened the door.

  “Ma to the rescue. The kids are climbing the walls already,” he groaned.

  “Good. I thought I would take them to Morrell Park and then stop by Leopold’s for some ice cream for breakfast.”

  “You’re gonna let them eat ice cream for breakfast?” Paulie asked. “Don’t let Gina find out. She’ll have a cow.”

  Noel had joined her father at the door and her eyes grew wide. “Mommy is going to have a cow?”

  “Daddy is being funny,” Carlita said and then wagged her finger at her son. “That’s what Nonnas do. They let their grandkids eat ice cream for breakfast.” She pointed to the stairs. “Let’s go get Aunt Mercedes.”

  Mercedes and Tony were waiting for Carlita and her grandchildren in the upper hallway.

  “Are you coming with us, Uncle Tony?” Gracie asked as she slipped her hand in his.

  “No Gracie. Uncle Tony has to work. Maybe you and Nonna can stop by later, on your way back.” He gave his nieces and nephew a group hug.

  “We’ll bring you ice cream,” Noel said solemnly.

  Tony laughed. “But it will melt before you get it back here.”

  “I’ll lick it on the way.”

  “I bet you wo
uld,” Carlita said. “Maybe Uncle Tony can go with us next time.” She turned to her son. “Don’t forget to grab your key before you head out.”

  “I’m leavin’ now,” Tony said. “Got the keys here.” He pulled them from his pocket and dangled them in her face before following the women and children downstairs. “Looks like it’s gonna be a beautiful day.”

  “You’re right,” Carlita nodded. “I think we should go to the park first.”

  Morrell Park was bustling with dog walkers, kite flyers and Frisbee throwers. “Who wants to take the ferry across the river to Hutchinson Island?”

  “Me,” three small voices shouted in unison.

  “This way.” Carlita led them down the sidewalk, to the far end of the park and the Savannah Belles Ferry, which was getting ready to dock. They made their way to the back of the line.

  “We’re gonna go over there.” Carlita pointed across the river, to the convention center and adjacent high-rise hotel.

  Paulie hopped up and down on one foot. “Someday I’m going to be a captain and sail all over the world.”

  “I can’t swim.” Gracie moved closer to her grandmother.

  “I hope we won’t have to swim.” Mercedes swooped down and picked up her niece. “We can sit on the lower deck, so you don’t have to look at the water.”

  They waited for a handful of passengers to disembark before boarding the small ferryboat.

  Gracie buried her face in her grandmother’s arm as the ferry slipped away from the shoreline, but it didn’t take long before she lifted her head and stared out at the water.

  “See? It isn’t so bad,” Carlita said.

  When they docked on Hutchinson Island, the group trekked up the ramp and steps to inspect the convention center. The center was locked and the parking lot empty, so they wandered around the hotel grounds, circling the meticulously landscaped gardens and large pool.

  “Can we go swimming?” Noel asked.

  “Not now,” Carlita said. “Maybe later you can put your swimsuits on and I’ll take you to the water fountains and splash park.”