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

by Hope Callaghan

  Autumn scooted in behind her. “Is that it?”

  “Yes. Now, all we have to do is create a diversion so I can sneak inside and have a look around.”

  “Let me think about it. In the meantime, we might as well enjoy the exhibits.” Autumn led the way, and the women slowly circled the room. She pointed to an empty spot on the wall. “Is this where the missing painting hung?”

  “Yep.” Carlita nodded. “It wasn’t very big. Someone could have easily slipped it into their jacket or with a large enough handbag, they could’ve placed it inside.”

  “Frame and all?”

  “Yes, I believe they could have, except for the fact that no bags were allowed in here.” Carlita’s eyes slowly scanned the room as she counted the surveillance cameras. “None of these cameras were working when the painting went missing.”

  “It was an inside job.”

  “It had to be.” The women finished their tour of the Cotswold Georgian Exhibit before making their way to the museum’s permanent collection. “As much as I would like to appreciate art, sometimes I have a hard time figuring it out.”

  Autumn grinned. “You, too? I’ve been making a game of it, trying to figure out the artist’s intent.”

  “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” Carlita quipped.

  “And worth is in the wallet of the collector.”

  “You said it,” Carlita chuckled.

  They circled the second exhibit area, The River City, and exited through a side door spilling into a spacious corridor.

  Carlita recognized the corridor. It was the same one Elvira had used when she gave her the behind-the-scenes tour.

  “Let’s take a wrong turn.” Carlita turned left instead of turning right - the direction of the front of the museum. Up ahead, she could hear the faint clatter of pots and pans. “This way.”

  They reached the butler’s pantry, the spot where Elvira had sampled, and pocketed, a few of the tarts.

  There was a swinging door on the other side and Carlita crept toward it.

  “What are you doing?” Autumn hissed.

  “Taking a wrong turn.” Carlita swung the door open and stepped inside the bustling kitchen. The workers darted back and forth, taking no notice of the women.

  High-end stainless steel appliances filled the large kitchen. The smell of fresh garlic wafted in the air. A woman wearing a chef’s hat stood next to a butcher-block counter slicing bread.

  Finally, one of the workers noticed the women and made his way over. “Can I help you?”

  “Yes. I…my niece and I were wondering if you’re taking applications. She’s looking for a part-time job, and someone told us you were hiring kitchen staff.”

  “I…uh. The young woman’s eyes slid to the woman standing at the counter. “Mrs. Finch might be able to answer that.” She hurried to the woman’s side and began talking in a low voice.

  The older woman set the serrated knife next to the bread and wiped her hands before making her way over. “I’m Mrs. Finch, the head cook here. Someone told you we were hiring?”

  “Y-yes…my friend heard it,” Autumn stuttered.

  “We may be hiring, but you’re in no way ready to work in my kitchen.” She pointed to Autumn’s stiletto shoes. “I’ll get you an application.”

  She reached inside a drawer and pulled out a clipboard before handing it to Autumn. “I have an opening for a dishwasher.”

  “Thank you. I’ll take this to the hallway to fill it out.” Autumn, along with Carlita, returned to the butler’s pantry. “Now what?”

  “I’m not sure.” Carlita reached into her pocket. “Crud. I forgot to turn the earpiece on. Elvira is probably having a fit.” She pulled the device from her jacket pocket, tucked the small earpiece in her ear and then turned the microphone on.

  “Elvira, do you copy?”

  “Yeah. Where have you been?”

  “Sorry. I forgot. We toured the museum, stopped by the kitchen and now Autumn is filling out an application.”

  “Why did you go to the kitchen?”

  “Why not? You told us to look around,” Carlita said.

  “There’s nothing in the kitchen. What about the surveillance cameras?”

  “The cashier, Vance, hinted the cameras weren’t working during the time the painting went missing.”

  “Which confirms my theory the theft was an inside job,” Elvira paused. “What are you doing?”

  “I told you, we were in the kitchen.”

  “No. Not you. Dernice. Oh…do you have to do that right now?” Elvira groaned. “She’s using the bathroom. Hang on. I need to turn around, so I don’t have to watch.”

  Carlita could hear Dernice mumbling something, and then Elvira was back. “Have you checked out the storage room?”

  “No. We’re heading that way after Autumn fills out the application.”

  “Good luck. If you get a chance, snap some pictures.”

  Carlita promised that she would before turning the earpiece’s volume down.

  Autumn tapped the top of the clipboard with the tip of her pen. “This is a complete waste of time.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. When we get back inside the kitchen, I’m going to see what the cook, Mrs. Finch, knows.”

  Autumn finished filling out the application and slid the pen under the metal clip. “This is as good as it gets. They would never consider hiring me. I have zero restaurant experience. There’s no way I would take a job as a dishwasher. I hate doing my own.”

  “I appreciate you going along with all of this,” Carlita said. “Elvira owes you one.”

  The women stepped back into the kitchen, and Autumn limped across the room. “I don’t have much…uh…any restaurant experience.”

  “We can train if the right person comes along.” Mrs. Finch perused the application. “You forgot to include your social security number.”

  “I’ll provide it if or when I’m offered the job.”

  “Nope. I need it now. The museum runs a background check on every person employed here before they begin work.”

  “I’m not comfortable giving you that information,” Autumn insisted.

  “Then I’m not comfortable discussing a possible position in my kitchen.” Mrs. Finch peered down the end of her nose.

  “Fine. Let’s not waste each other’s time.” Autumn stiffened her back and hobbled across the kitchen. She didn’t stop until she reached the main hall. “I wouldn’t want to work here anyway.”

  Carlita followed Autumn into the hall where she lifted her leg and began massaging her ankle. “These shoes are killing me.”

  “We’re almost done. I need the diversion now if I’m going to attempt to have a look inside the storage room.” Carlita’s armpits grew damp. “What if we get caught?”

  “You stick with the story you got lost. They can’t do anything if a visitor accidentally gets lost.”

  “True.” Carlita smiled grimly, a look of determination on her face. “I don’t know how Elvira manages to involve me in her messes. I’m ready.”

  The women made their way back to the front. Vance was seated on a barstool, peering down at his cell phone.

  Autumn squeezed Carlita’s hand and began limping toward him. She slowly approached the desk. “I have a quick question about something in the gallery.”

  Carlita waited until Vance followed Autumn into the next room. She darted to the storage room, eased the door open and slipped inside.

  The interior of the storage room was dark, and it took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the lack of light.

  The room was filled with towering stacks of boxes, empty picture frames along with several pieces of small furniture.

  Carlita moved quickly as she began rummaging through the boxes.

  “It’s no use.” She gave up on sorting through the boxes and began a perimeter check of the room for a possible hiding spot. Carlita rubbed a frantic hand across her brow. It would take her hours to sort through the stuff.

  Elvira
may be right - the missing artwork was still on the museum grounds, but Carlita suspected it wasn’t anywhere near this mess.

  She tiptoed to the door and reached for the handle before remembering her promise to try to snap a few pictures of the interior of the storage room.

  She eased her cell phone from her pocket and quickly snapped pictures from several different angles. Carlita switched the phone off and then gingerly eased the storage room door open, just enough to get a visual of the lobby.

  Her heart plummeted when she spied Vance and the museum curator huddled in the center of the rotunda.

  Autumn limped past them, carrying her shoes in her hand. She stepped outside and out of sight when Carlita heard her scream, causing a commotion on the museum’s front porch. The men ran out the front door.

  Carlita bolted out of the storage room. In one swift move, she pulled the door shut behind her. She darted to the entrance where she found Autumn seated on a wooden bench, her shoes on the seat next to her and clutching her ankle.

  Vance and Mr. Spelling were both leaning over her. Carlita hurried to join them. “Oh, dear. Are you all right?”

  “I took a spill on a slippery spot inside the museum. My ankle is killing me.” Autumn blinked back tears.

  Carlita peered anxiously at Autumn’s swollen ankle. “You may have sprained it. I’ll go get the car.”

  “If you could pull around to one of the handicap spots, we’ll help her to the car,” Vance offered.

  “I need my purse,” Carlita said.

  Vance and Carlita returned inside while Mr. Spelling stayed behind with Autumn.

  After retrieving her purse, Carlita hurried down the steps and to her car. She cast a quick glance at the porta potty.

  The door opened, and Elvira emerged.

  She motioned for her to stay inside before switching her mic on. “You’ll have to stay put. Autumn twisted her ankle. I’m driving to the front of the building where an employee and Mr. Spelling are going to help her to the car. You need to stay out of sight.”

  “Ten-four,” Elvira’s voice crackled. “Swing back around the alley and pick us up.”

  “Will do.” Carlita jumped into the car. She sped down the alley, around the block and to the front of the museum where she eased into an empty handicapped spot. Spelling and Vance helped a hobbling Autumn to the car.

  “Thank you. Thank you so much. I…I’m such a klutz.” Autumn hopped to the side and then backed into the front seat. She tossed her shoes on the floor.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” A look of concern filled the curator’s face.

  “Yes. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  “Thank you for helping us,” Carlita said. “I’m sorry to be so much trouble.”

  “No. No trouble at all,” Mr. Spelling said kindly. “You may want to leave the high heels at home next time.”

  “I will. Silly me for even wearing them.” Autumn thanked the men again before pulling the passenger door shut.

  Carlita climbed behind the wheel, gave the men a quick wave and backed out of the parking spot.

  “Well? How did I do?”

  “It was an Oscar-worthy performance,” Carlita said.

  “I was trying to fake a fall but ended up twisting my ankle instead. A little ice and I’m sure I’ll be good as new.” Autumn reached for her seatbelt. “Did you find anything inside the storage room?”

  “No. It was full of boxes, empty artwork frames and furniture. It would take hours to dig through everything. Plus, I don’t think the thief would be dumb enough to hide the artwork in the storage closet.”

  “Are you sure? It would be the perfect place to hide it…right in plain sight.”

  “I suppose. I took a few pictures. Maybe we’ll be able to glean some clues.” Carlita circled the block and returned to the alley before turning on the mic. “We’re ready.”

  The porta potty door flew open. Elvira exited first, closely followed by Dernice. The women jogged across the construction lot.

  Elvira hopped into the backseat and slammed the door shut. “I’ll never do that again.”

  Dernice climbed in on the other side. “It wasn’t that bad.”

  “It was disgusting. I can think of a million other hiding spots which would have worked.”

  “You’re such a wimp,” Dernice shrugged. “You need to toughen up.”

  “Well?” Elvira ignored her sister as she leaned forward in the seat. “Did you find anything?”

  “I think I may be onto something, but it wasn’t anything I found inside the storage area,” Carlita said.

  Chapter 10

  “Like what?”

  “Before I answer, what kind of information did you provide to the museum to get the security job?” Carlita asked.

  “It was ridiculous,” Elvira grunted. “The application was three pages long. They wanted so much unimportant information, I had to start making stuff up. Along with filler information, I had to include past employment, previous addresses, personal and professional references.”

  Carlita cut her off. “Who…did you use for a professional reference?”

  “Well…uh.” Elvira shifted uncomfortably. “I used Glenda Fox and SAS.”

  “With Glenda’s permission?” Carlita pressed.

  “I…was going to. I planned to, but never got around to it.”

  “Just like you used me as a reference?” Carlita pinned Elvira with a stare.

  “We’ve already been over this. I was going to ask you, but I figured you would say no,” Elvira whined. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “Not a big deal? You’re under investigation for theft, and you used me as a reference without my permission,” Carlita said. “So now, not only does this throw suspicion on me but also on my family.”

  “It’s not like you’re not used to taking a little heat.”

  “Elvira.” Carlita shook her head. She knew she wasn’t going to win the argument and changed the subject. “Along with the references, did you provide them with a driver’s license or social security number?”

  “Yep to both,” Dernice answered. “They required the information for each person who would be working security detail for the event.”

  Carlita’s mind raced as she thought about Dernice’s answer. “So…the museum directors and others would have access to your past conviction, Dernice.”

  “No.” Dernice shook her head. “Elvira left me off the list. It wasn’t until after the painting went missing that they started digging around and found out about my past.”

  “I think someone on the inside - inside the museum did find out.” Elvira’s jaw dropped. “Someone let us through, and gave us the job so they could lift the painting, and we would be blamed.” She flung herself back in the seat.

  “It could be,” Carlita agreed. “We need to find out precisely who had access to your application. This might help us narrow down the list of possible suspects.”

  “I filled out the application online. A couple of days later, Gaston Spelling, the museum’s curator, called me back.”

  “Then what happened?” Autumn asked.

  Elvira told them that after filling out the application, Spelling contacted her for a face-to-face interview. “During the interview, Spelling told me I was in the running for the assignment. He gave me a stack of co-applications and told me each employee working would need to fill it out and return it within twenty-four hours. I didn’t add Astrid’s information since she wasn’t an employee at the time I got the gig.”

  Carlita remembered the young woman who was learning French. “Why would Astrid’s application be a red flag?”

  “Because Astrid Herve is not her real name,” Elvira said.

  “We don’t know Astrid’s real name,” Dernice added. “When we ran a background check on her, we discovered there’s no Astrid Herve from Savannah.”

  “So she’s hiding something.” Carlita tapped the top of the steering wheel. “You said Astrid was saving up money to move to Franc
e.”

  “To get back to her roots, her ancestry,” Elvira explained. “She’s got it set in her mind all her dreams will come true when she reaches Gay Paree. She’s a little on the innocent side.”

  “Gullible,” Dernice added. “She sometimes strikes me as almost too innocent. Maybe it’s an act.”

  “So maybe Astrid is a suspect in the painting’s theft,” Autumn said. “Where did you find Astrid?”

  “Digging through a dumpster. She’s homeless,” Elvira said.

  “Are you letting her stay with you?” Carlita asked.

  “Sort of.” Elvira averted her gaze. “Like I said before, Astrid - or whoever she really is - is a free spirit. She has anxiety issues and gets antsy when she’s inside confined spaces with four walls. Astrid didn’t steal the painting,” Elvira said with confidence.

  “Why not?”

  “Because she never stepped foot inside the museum. Her detail was handling the outdoor crowds, something she’s more familiar with.”

  Carlita had another thought. “How are you paying her if you don’t know her name?”

  “I think I mentioned it before. I’m paying her in cash and under the table. It’s too much trouble to try to sort through paperwork when she’s only a temp - and self-employed.”

  “I see.” Carlita grew silent as she mulled over the new information. According to Elvira, Astrid was lying about her name. Maybe she had no anxiety about being inside buildings, but for whatever reason wanted Elvira to believe she had a phobia.

  Why would the woman lie about who she was…unless she was hiding from something or someone?

  “This makes no sense, Elvira. You’re asking for trouble,” Carlita said. “If Astrid lied about her name, she could be lying about her phobia of confined spaces.”

  “True. My gut says she’s safe. I’m hardly ever wrong.”

  They reached the apartment building, and Carlita pulled into an empty parking spot. She waited until the others had exited the vehicle. “This investigative thing should be a piece of cake, Elvira. Just my two cents, but I think the theft of the painting was an inside job. Someone set you up knowing your employees, or at least one of them, had a criminal record, they stole the painting, and now you and your company are on the hook.”