Swiped in Savannah: A Made in Savannah Cozy Mystery (Made in Savannah Mystery Series Book 12)

by Hope Callaghan

  “Hi, Carlita. Glenda here. Sorry I missed your call. I’m sure you’ve heard about the art exhibit at Darbylane Museum. Elvira and her security company were hired for the event. You’ll never guess what she did.” Glenda ended the cliffhanger call, asking her friend to call her back.

  Chapter 4

  She quickly dialed the number.

  “Hey, Carlita.”

  “Hi, Glenda. I got your message, something about the art exhibit and Elvira.”

  “Yeah. I’m right around the corner from your place. I figured I would swing by so we can talk in person.”

  “I’m standing in front of the pawnshop,” Carlita said.

  “I’ll be there in less than a minute.”

  Carlita rounded the corner, nearly colliding with her friend. They both took a quick step back.

  “You weren’t kidding about being right around the corner,” Carlita joked.

  “It’s such a nice morning; I figured I would walk over.” Glenda slid her cell phone into her front pocket. “Elvira is down at the police station being questioned about Darbylane Museum’s missing artwork.”

  Carlita remembered the conversation with Elvira, how she joked about swapping out one of the pieces of artwork for one of her own. “You wouldn’t happen to know which piece is missing, would you.”

  “A Piece of Renaissance. It’s rumored to be worth millions.”

  “Elvira gave me a private tour of the museum yesterday. She pointed out that particular piece, made a joke about how she could swap it out and no one would even notice.”

  “You don’t think…” Glenda’s voice trailed off. “No. Elvira has been known to do a lot of dumb things, but she would have to be off her rocker to steal that piece of art.”

  “All I can say is if she thought she was being funny and played a prank, it backfired.”

  “Unfortunately, our names are also getting thrown around. The authorities called me first thing this morning to ask me a few questions.”

  “Why you?”

  “Because Elvira listed me…listed us as references.”

  “Us?” Carlita shook her head.

  Glenda pointed to Carlita. “You and me. She used both of our names as references on her application to get the job at the museum.”

  “I…I never told her she could use me as a reference.”

  “And neither did I, but that didn’t stop her from doing it, which is why the authorities wanted to talk to me. In fact, I’m sure you’re on their list to contact, as well.”

  “Great.” Carlita frowned. “That woman has caused me more trouble since she moved out of my building than during the time she lived under my roof.”

  “Including the time she set her apartment on fire?” Glenda joked.

  “Let me revise my statement. She causes me as much grief now as when she lived under my roof. I hope she didn’t take the painting, even if it was a prank. She’ll never work in this town again.”

  “I agree.” Glenda changed the subject. “How’s business these days? Mark and I plan to stop by for dinner this Saturday evening.”

  “We have busy days and slow days. The first couple of weeks after we opened we were going gangbusters. Since then, business has started to taper off. I’m not sure if it’s because of the change in seasons or if this is the new norm.” All of Carlita’s concerns over the success or failure of her business came flooding back. “That was the reason I stopped by to see you yesterday.”

  “You’re looking for some advice?”

  “Yes. I was also wondering how Mark’s new venture, Savannah Riverfront Inn, is doing.”

  “We’re in the same boat. Some days are great while others are crickets. Like any tourist town, there are ups and downs.” Glenda eyed her friend thoughtfully. “You could try coupons or discount cards.”

  “Reese suggested something similar, how I should experiment with coupons. She offered to hand them out to trolley passengers.”

  “Why don’t we join forces?” Glenda brightened. “We could give you discount cards for the inn, and you give us cards for the restaurant.”

  “What a great idea. Thanks, Glenda.” Carlita motioned toward the apartment. “Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?”

  “No.” Glenda consulted her watch. “I need to get back to the other side of town. I called an emergency meeting with the other members of the SAS to see if they’ve heard anything about the theft.”

  Carlita thanked her for the heads up concerning Elvira. She promised to begin working on discount cards for the restaurant and then returned to the apartment to grab the recipes before circling around to the alley.

  “Hey!” Elvira stood in her doorway.

  “Hello, Elvira.” Carlita crossed to the other side. “You look frazzled.”

  “I’ve had my hands full. Listen, I was wondering if it would be okay if I used you as a business reference.”

  Carlita briefly closed her eyes. “It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You already used me as a reference. In fact, I’m waiting for the authorities to come knocking on my door to ask me about the missing piece of artwork you joked about taking yesterday.”

  “I-I…uh. I was kidding about that,” Elvira stuttered. “You know I was just kidding. I even told you it was a joke.”

  “Yes, you did, but it doesn’t mean you didn’t say it.”

  “You’re not going to tell anyone what I said, are you?”

  “Only if they ask me,” Carlita said. “I’m not going to lie. Did you take the painting?”

  “No.” Elvira’s eyes grew wide, and she shook her head. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

  “No. Stupid isn’t your first trait that comes to mind. You have other more prominent characteristics, including a disregard for rules and laws. If you didn’t take the artwork as a joke, what exactly did happen?”

  “I was working my shift. The place was a madhouse, people coming and going, spilling food and drinks. It was a full-time job keeping the crowds from messing with the artwork.” Elvira explained she strategically positioned her employees in and around the building and appointed herself as the one to keep an eye on A Piece of Renaissance. “I figured I should be the one to keep an eye on the art.”

  “When exactly did the piece in question go missing?”

  “It happened after the museum closed. Dernice was in charge of checking every nook and cranny of the museum to make sure no one was hiding out, waiting for us to lock up. The museum curator accompanied me for a final inspection of the museum and grounds, we locked the doors and left.”

  “So why are you considered a suspect?”

  “Because after we locked up, I told Spelling, the curator, I accidentally left my keys on the counter of the butler’s pantry. I went back in to get them while he waited for me. I picked them up, joined him in the hallway and we left together. The last thing he did was set the alarm.”

  “Then I’m sure the authorities cleared your name,” Carlita said.

  “Logically, most intelligent life forms would reach the same conclusion, except that I was the last person inside the building before the alarm was set. When the curator and staff arrived first thing this morning, the piece was MIA.”

  “So maybe someone…a staff member took it,” Carlita theorized.

  “I said the same thing myself, but the cops aren’t talking. I’m not taking the rap for the piece of garbage painting. I told them they could search this whole place, my van, whatever, but I wasn’t going to go down for this. My reputation is at stake.”

  “I think…” A truck turned onto the alley and coasted by them, interrupting their conversation.

  It was Carlita’s chef, Dylan. “I gotta get going.” She stepped off the stoop. Elvira trailed behind. “You’re not going to mention me joking about the missing artwork, are you?”

  “I already told you I’m not going to lie.”

  “But you can’t tell them that. They’re going to
throw me in the slammer, for sure.”

  “Then you’ll have to work harder to prove your innocence.” Carlita stopped abruptly. “Listen, you said you have nothing to hide. I’m going to be honest and truthful. Besides, this is partly your fault.” She began walking again.

  “How so?” Elvira refused to give up, and she fell into step.

  “For using me as a reference without my permission.” They reached the back of the restaurant. “I wouldn’t even be on the investigator’s radar if you hadn’t used me as a reference.”

  Elvira’s shoulders slumped as she watched Carlita step inside the restaurant. “Maybe you’ll get lucky, and they won’t want to talk to me.”

  “Fat chance.” Elvira trudged off, and Carlita shook her head as she sucked in a breath.

  Dylan parked his vehicle and joined her. “Who was that?”

  “Elvira Cobb, my former tenant, a royal pain in the rump, and a woman who is always managing to become involved in some sort of crisis.” Carlita forced Elvira’s dilemma from her mind as she handed Dylan a small stack of papers.

  “I’ve found a few recipes we could try. I thought we could pick them out together, and then I’ll do a test run in my kitchen.”

  Dylan and Carlita headed inside to a booth near the back. They mulled over the possible picks and decided on a new lunch special, along with a chicken Milano recipe.

  Carlita studied the list of ingredients. “This should be fairly simple and something we can make in large quantities.”

  “What are the ingredients again?”

  “Chicken breasts, fettuccine, heavy cream, fresh basil, sundried tomatoes.”

  “Sounds good.”

  The two of them went over the upcoming workweek schedule as restaurant employees began straggling in.

  Carlita gathered her files and notes. She told Dylan to call her if he needed anything and exited through the back. Once again, Elvira’s new company van was parked in the alley.

  “Ugh.” Carlita marched toward Elvira’s back door and rapped loudly. It opened a crack. Elvira peered out.

  “You need to move your van. You’re blocking the alley.”

  “Right. I will.” Elvira started to close the door, and Carlita shoved her foot in the crack. “Now.”

  “Fine. I’ll move it now.” The door flew open, and Elvira stepped out. “I don’t know why you’re being so nitpicky about my van. There’s plenty of room to park at the other end of the alley.”

  “That’s the point. You shouldn’t be parking in the alley at all. It’s a fire hazard.”

  “Whatever.” Elvira rolled her eyes.

  Carlita stepped onto her stoop. She stood off to the side and watched as her neighbor drove the nuisance vehicle to the parking lot.

  Elvira climbed out. She slammed the door and tromped back down the alley. “Are you happy now?”

  “Extremely,” Carlita said. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Carlita turned to go inside.

  “Hey!”

  She turned back.

  “The cops show up yet?”

  “No.”

  “Good.” Elvira’s expression relaxed. “Maybe they’re not going to.”

  “Maybe.” Back inside, Carlita noticed the door to the pawnshop was ajar. She eased it open and found her son and daughter inside talking.

  “You’re back.” Carlita joined them. “How is Shelby? What did the doctor’s say?”

  Tony cast his sister a quick glance, a look of concern etched on his face. “I was telling Mercedes…Shelby’s diagnosis is more serious than we thought it would be.”

  Chapter 5

  Carlita’s heart plummeted. “Oh, no. What is it?”

  “Shelby was diagnosed with Addison’s Disease.” Tony explained the disease was an uncommon disorder. “The doctor told us it can be life-threatening.”

  “Life-threatening? Carlita pressed a hand to her chest.

  “Stress is a trigger. We have to be careful to keep an eye on Shelby’s blood pressure.”

  “How…I mean what else did the doctor say?” Mercedes asked.

  “He prescribed hormone replacement therapy. We’ll definitely have a learning curve.”

  “I’m sorry, Tony. Shelby must be beside herself.”

  “She’s taking it hard. Like I said, stress is a trigger. We need to learn how to de-stress her. She’s putting in her notice at the post office. We agreed to take it one day at a time, but right now our main goal is to learn how to manage her condition.”

  A customer approached the counter, and Tony left to help them at the display case.

  “I’m gonna go check on her,” Carlita said.

  “I’ll go with you,” Mercedes said.

  They told Tony they planned to stop by the apartment, but he asked them to wait until later because Shelby was resting. “The news threw her for a loop.”

  “I imagine it did.” Carlita waited until she and Mercedes were in the hall to talk. “This is terrible. I had no idea Shelby was this ill. I figured the wedding planning was the reason for her dizziness and exhaustion.”

  “And now she has to be careful about becoming stressed out,” Mercedes said. “I wonder how or if this affects them and their future family plans.”

  “I don’t know.” Carlita made a mental note to bring it up to Tony when Shelby wasn’t around, and they returned to their apartment.

  While Mercedes headed to her room, Carlita began assembling the ingredients to begin making the chicken Milano. Her first step was to thaw a batch of her homemade fettuccine pasta.

  While the pasta thawed, she added oil and the chicken breasts to a skillet. Mercedes emerged from her room and watched as her mother began combining the pasta, the sauce and the sliced chicken breasts.

  “Something smells dee-licious.”

  “I hope it’s delicious.”

  Mercedes patted her stomach. “It smells like something guaranteed to add to the beginning of my pasta pudge.”

  “Right, Mercedes. Like you have anything to worry about. It’s a chicken Milano recipe. I’m testing it out for the restaurant.” Carlita scooped a large spoonful of the pasta mixture on a dish and held it out for her daughter. “Give me your expert opinion.”

  Mercedes gobbled up the goodies. “I think I need another taste test.”

  “Which means you like it.” Carlita placed two sample servings on small dishes and handed one to her daughter. She swirled the fettuccine around her fork and took a big bite. “I like it…nice and creamy.”

  “And absolutely dreamy,” Mercedes quipped. “I think you should start by offering it as a dinner special and then add it to the menu if customers like it.”

  “Mercedes, that’s a brilliant idea.” The women finished their savory snack, and Carlita set the pan of food off to the side to cool. “We’ll have this for dinner and maybe send some home with Tony so they won’t have to cook tonight.”

  The outer doorbell buzzed.

  “I wonder who that could be.” Carlita reached for a dishtowel.

  “I’ll find out who it is.” Mercedes darted out the door and down the steps. She returned moments later. “Hey, Ma.”

  “Did someone accidentally lock themselves out again?” Carlita hung the dishtowel on the front of the stove before stepping out of the kitchen.

  “No.” Mercedes stood in the doorway. She wasn’t alone. A uniformed police officer stood next to her.

  “Hello.”

  “Mrs. Garlucci?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Detective Wilson from the Savannah Police Department.”

  “Detective Wilson. You look vaguely familiar.”

  “I believe we may have met while I was investigating a missing person’s case.”

  “Ah.” Carlita lifted a brow. “The JL Cordele case. Now I remember. How can I help you?”

  “I’m sorry to bother you.” The detective pulled a small notepad from his pocket and flipped it open. “I’m investigating the theft of
a valuable painting from the Darbylane Museum. The owner of the security company hired to guard the artwork used you as a reference.”

  “Elvira Cobb,” Carlita said.

  “You know Ms. Cobb?”

  “Yes, I know her. Not only is she a former tenant, but she’s also my neighbor.” Carlita motioned toward the alley. “She owns the building behind me.”

  “Yes, I noticed you two were neighbors.”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “I was hoping you could answer a few questions about your relationship with Ms. Cobb. How long you’ve known her, as a tenant had she ever done anything to cause you concern in a professional manner or otherwise.”

  “Ma evicted her,” Mercedes said.

  “Evicted her?” The detective plucked the pen from this front pocket and began scribbling. “If you don’t mind me asking, why would you evict your tenant and then allow her to use you as a reference?”

  “She didn’t ask my permission to use me as a reference,” Carlita said. “She just did it.”

  “I see. Could you elaborate on why you evicted Ms. Cobb?”

  “It wasn’t for theft.”

  “She set her apartment on fire,” Mercedes said.

  The detective’s jaw dropped. “No kidding.”

  “It wasn’t intentional; at least I don’t believe it was intentional,” Carlita shrugged. “The fire was the last straw, though. She probably shouldn’t have used me as a reference.”

  “Would you have given her permission to use you as a reference?” Detective Wilson asked.

  “I…maybe. Maybe not.”

  “There are two other local business owners Ms. Cobb used as references. Glenda Fox, the President of Savannah Architectural Society. Mrs. Fox is also Cobb’s former employer, along with the owner of Parrot House Restaurant, Pete Taylor. Do you know either of them?”

  “Yes,” Carlita nodded. “Glenda and I are friends. Mr. Taylor is a business associate. I’m a partner in his pirate ship venture.”

  “Interesting.” The detective eyed Carlita curiously.