Tony accompanied his mother out of the apartment building and walked her to her car.
She gave him a quick hug. “We might need to scrape together some bond money.”
“I hope not.” Two bright beams of light flashed across the parking lot as a car pulled into the alley. It was Paulie’s car. “I better say hello to Gina and the kids.” Carlita waited until Paulie steered the car into an empty spot before she hurried to the passenger side of the car.
The door opened and a petite, slender dark-haired woman stepped out.
“Gina. I’m glad you’re here. Welcome to Savannah.” Carlita gave her daughter-in-law a warm hug, keeping both hands on Gina’s arms as she took a step back. “I love what you’ve done to your hair.”
Gina ran her fingers through her shoulder length locks. “Thanks. I was gonna cut it a little shorter.” She shrugged. “Paulie likes it long.”
The back door of the sedan flew open. A small child hopped out and flung himself at Carlita’s legs. “Nonna.”
Carlita bent down and picked up her son’s namesake, Paulie. “Oh my PJ. I think you’ve grown a whole foot since Nonna saw you last.”
Another child, Carlita’s granddaughter, Gracie, sprang from the car and ran to her grandmother’s side. “PJ is in trouble.”
“So are you,” PJ insisted. “Mommy said we’re all in trouble.”
Noel slipped out of the car and joined her siblings. “I’m hungry.”
“I know you are.” Gina shook her head. “It was the longest four hours of my life and I will never endure a long layover with these three again. I shoulda made Paulie come get us.”
Paulie exited the car. “I offered to come get ya.”
Gina ignored the comment and gazed at the back of the apartment building. “This is your building? The way Paulie described it; I was expectin’ the Taj Mahal.”
Carlita could tell from the tone of Gina’s voice that she wasn’t impressed with their home.
“You’re lookin’ at the back of the building.” Paulie popped the trunk, reached inside and grabbed a suitcase. “Give it a chance, Gina.”
“I have some snacks in the apartment and juice for the kids.” Carlita jingled her car keys. “I gotta take care of somethin’ for Mercedes.” She shot Tony a warning glance and he nodded. The last thing Carlita needed was for Gina to start ranting and raving about what a dangerous place Savannah was after hearing Mercedes was at a potential crime scene.
She hugged her grandchildren and Gina one more time and waited until they disappeared inside the apartment before climbing into her car and backing out of the parking spot. It was a short ten-minute walk to the riverfront district, but it was dark and since she was alone, Carlita decided to drive.
On top of that, she wasn’t sure if she would have to follow Mercedes and Autumn to the police station if they were taken in for questioning. Carlita wondered if Detective Zachary Jackson was on the scene. He and Mercedes had been dating. Well, not technically dating…they’d gone on one date.
She turned onto Bay Street and drove to the other side of the Riverfront District. When she reached the Artisan Hotel, she turned right, onto a bumpy cobblestone street.
The ruts jostled Carlita as the car crept along the uneven roadway. When she stopped at the bottom of the hill, she spied the flashing lights of the patrol cars and figured she was close.
After a quick left turn onto River Street, she pulled into the parking lot marked Private Lot B, slid out of the car and joined the crowd that had gathered.
Carlita circled the onlookers until she caught a glimpse of her daughter and Autumn standing off to the side, talking with a police officer.
“…and I swear that is all I know. I’ve never met the man before in my life. I know it sounds odd.”
“You don’t have to talk Mercedes.” Carlita eased in between Autumn and Mercedes, and squeezed her daughter’s arm.
The uniformed officer lifted a brow. “And who are you?”
“Mercedes’ mother.” Carlita lifted her chin defiantly. “Who are you?”
“I’m Detective Skip Wilson.” The man clicked the end of his pen as he studied Carlita’s face. “You have a unique name. What’s your last name again?” The detective consulted his notes. “Garlucci. You wouldn’t happen to know a Detective Zachary Jackson, would you?”
“We’re, uh, friends,” Mercedes said. “He helped us track down one of our tenants who went missing not long ago.”
The detective smirked. “Ah, now I remember. There was some nut job woman who was camped out at Fort Pulaski and ended up being kidnapped by a killer.”
“My tenant, Elvira Cobb,” Carlita said. “Please don’t hold it against us.”
“I think I’ve got enough information to go on for now. You’re free to leave.” The detective fished a business card out of his front shirt pocket and handed it to Mercedes. “If you think of anything you forgot to mention, give me a call.”
“I will.” Mercedes took the card, and the trio waited until the detective made his way over to the crime scene investigators.
“What happened, Mercedes?”
“Like I told you earlier, my author group and I were discussing, Jon Luis, a famous local author. He wrote a book about an unsolved murder back in the early 1980s involving several prominent, local Savannah residents. It seemed like such an interesting story and it gave me an idea to start a new book, Savannah’s Secret Society, so I contacted Mr. Luis. We emailed, texted back and forth and finally set up a time to meet.”
Mercedes went on to tell her mother Jon Luis refused to meet in a public place and insisted they meet at night. “He picked this location. I jumped at the chance to meet with him, but then I got to thinking it was dangerous to
