Mercedes paused to appreciate the beauty of the building as she gazed around. The murmur of soft voices echoed in the hall as she made her way to the information desk. “Yes, I’m here to track down a book.”
The woman behind the desk smiled. “Do you have a library card?”
“Not yet.”
“No problem. We can get you set up. Do you have a picture ID?”
Mercedes reached into her pocket, pulled out her wallet and handed the woman her driver’s license. After the woman entered her information in the computer, she handed Mercedes her ID and new library card. “What book can I help you find?”
Mercedes gave the woman the name of the book.
“Follow me.” The librarian led her to the non-fiction mystery section where she plucked a book from one of the shelves and handed it to Mercedes. “Is this it?”
“The Death Club. Perfect. Thank you,” Mercedes said.
The woman accompanied Mercedes back to the front desk. “This is a popular book today. This branch only carries two copies of The Death Club. The other copy was checked out this morning.”
She continued. “Now that you have a library card, you can reserve books online.” The woman scanned the book before she tucked a receipt inside the cover and slid the book across the desk. “The return date is on your receipt. You should check out our library before you go. We have over 500,000 items. You can download e-stuff, like e-books, audio and videos, plus we have a whole bank of computers available to residents.”
“I’m kind of on a tight schedule today,” Mercedes said. “I’ll be sure to come back when I have more time. I love libraries.” She thanked the woman for her help and exited the library.
When she returned home, her mother was gone and the apartment was quiet. Mercedes settled onto the sofa and began reading. The Death Club was a fascinating story with a preface about JL Cordele’s research. While she read, she jotted down several of the names he mentioned, so she could research them later.
After reading for a couple of hours, Mercedes realized that if she researched every single person in the book, and she’d only made it a quarter of the way through it, she’d be researching for weeks.
Frustrated, she tucked the receipt between the chapters where she’d left off and slammed the book shut. “Ugh. This is going to take me forever. There has to be a better way.”
Mercedes grabbed a pillow and covered her face. She was in the same position when her mother returned to the apartment a short time later.
“Hey,” Carlita lifted the corner of the pillow. “You feelin’ all right?”
“No. I’m depressed. I feel like I’m running around in circles. I have no idea who murdered Jon Luis.” Mercedes uncovered her face. “I’m almost certain JL Cordele and Jon Luis are the same person, but based on what I’ve read in this book, any number of people could’ve taken him out. All of the people he wrote about…they can’t all be dead.”
Carlita perched on the edge of the chair and stared at her daughter thoughtfully. “Remember how Tierney Grant told us Jon Luis contacted her about the Honeycutt / Madison Square murder? I don’t think it was a coincidence he wanted to meet with you. He even jotted your name and address on a notepad. I think he was lookin’ for info on George Delmario.”
“If we could figure out who was involved in the third case…” Mercedes sat up. “Wait a minute. I took a bunch of papers from Jon Luis’ storage unit. They were clipped together and in a plastic bag. I thought that maybe it was part of a manuscript. I forgot about them after Detective Wilson stopped us.”
“The bag is still in the car.” Mercedes sprang from the sofa and ran down to the pawnshop.
Tony was at the desk, working on the computer.
“I need your car keys.”
“What’s up?” Tony reached into the top drawer and pulled out a set of keys before tossing them to his sister.
“Remember that bag I took, er, I mean borrowed from Jon Luis’ storage unit? I left it in your car and completely forgot about it after the detective followed us. It’s still in your car. I’ll be right back.” Mercedes stepped into the hall.
“Don’t forget to lock it,” Tony called out after her.
Mercedes found the bag right where she’d left it, and after locking the car, she returned to the pawnshop and handed Tony his keys.
“You found it?”
“Yep.” Mercedes waved the papers in the air. “I can’t believe I forgot all about it.”
“Well, bein’ followed by the fuzz probably rattled you, not to mention being chased out of the storage place by the manager.”
“Right?” Mercedes thanked her brother again and then returned to the apartment. “I got it.”
“Great,” Carlita said. “What is it?”
“Jon Luis aka JL Cordele’s manuscript.” Mercedes sat on the sofa, tucking her legs underneath her as she pulled the papers from the bag and unclipped them. “I found three JL Cordele books inside a plastic bin, along with this, written by Jon Luis. They’re the same person.”
“Well?” Carlita asked.
“This is definitely a manuscript.” She quickly flipped through the pages. “Unsolved Murders in Savannah: Mafia Ties, White Lies and Rush Into Murder. The Cold Case Files by Jon Luis.”
Mercedes tapped the top with the tips of her fingers. “Why was it in the bin? If Jon Luis was working on it, why would he hide it in a storage unit?” She remembered how they’d spotted the storage unit keys, along with other keys, next to Jon Luis’ body.
“Didn’t you say that the young detective, Mr. Jackson, told you Jon Luis reported his apartment had
