“I suppose you’re right. We better get going.” Carlita hugged her son. “We’ll only be gone two nights. If you need anything at all, call. We’re only a short drive back to town.”
“Will do. Josh should be here any minute. We’re both going to work full shifts.” Tony cast an uneasy glance out the window. “Course we might not have to worry about it if a storm is coming our way.”
For the second time, Carlita wondered if they were making a mistake, agreeing to help Tori. Despite her concern, a promise was a promise and the sooner they got to Montgomery Hall and began their investigation, the better off they would be.
Mercedes and Carlita exited through the back hall and stepped into the alley. A stiff wind whipped around the corner of the apartment building. Mercedes swept the strands of hair from her eyes and glanced skyward. “We’ve never been in a tropical storm before. I hope it changes course and steers clear of us.”
“I’ll turn the radio on when we get in the car.” Carlita tightened her grip on her overnight case and tugged it off the stoop. “I wonder if they close the bridge connecting Tybee Island and Savannah during storms.”
“I dunno Ma. Since you don’t like driving in bad weather, I’ll drive.”
The women hurried down the alley, tossed their bags in the back seat and then quickly jumped into the car. Carlita buckled her seatbelt and turned the radio on. “I think there’s a local news channel somewhere here.”
Mercedes backed out of the parking spot and drove down the alley, stopping when they reached the main road. “Tony was right. This place is like a ghost town. I’m sure Mrs. Montgomery would’ve called us if she had reason to believe we shouldn’t make the trip.”
“Yeah. I’m sure she would’ve called to tell us not to come.” Carlita twisted the dial as she scanned the stations. “I think I found it.” She turned the volume up and the women grew silent as they listened to the local forecast.
“…in a surprising shift, Tropical Storm Rex has increased in intensity. Hurricane hunters are predicting a 50/50 chance the storm will continue to intensify and begin lashing South Georgia’s barrier islands before working its way up the coast, brushing the Carolinas and then turning back out to sea.”
Another forecaster chimed in. “The forecasters are keeping a close eye on this one.”
“What does it mean for us?” Mercedes muttered.
“I don’t know, but I have a feeling we’re gonna find out. They did say 50/50. We shouldn’t panic, at least not yet.”
They listened to the radio station all the way to Montgomery Hall, but there was no mention of the storm again, and Carlita began to relax. Weather forecasters weren’t always right, and maybe they were wrong. She hoped so.
The guard buzzed them through the gate and Lucien, Tori’s security guard, met them in the drive. “You can park your car in the detached garage. It’s behind the main house.” He pointed to the left. “Follow this path. It’s right around the bend. Honk when you get there and Chad Olsen will show you where to park.”
“Thanks.”
“Before you go, I’ll unload your luggage. That way you won’t have to haul it down the path,” Lucien offered.
“Good idea.” Mercedes sprang from the car and held the back door while Lucien removed both bags and set them on the ground.
“I’ll wait here for you,” he promised.
“We’ll hurry.” Mercedes slid behind the wheel. She rolled the window up and then steered the car onto the narrow path.
The one lane path led to a clearing where a two-story detached garage sat in the open.
“It looks empty.” Mercedes honked when they got close and the door opened. A dark-haired man waved them forward until the car cleared the overhead doors.
She shifted into park and shut the engine off before climbing out of the car. “I’m impressed. We get our own indoor parking spot.”
“Mrs. Montgomery asked that we park your vehicle inside to avoid damage in the event we’re hit by Tropical Storm Rex.” He held out his hand. “I’ll store your keys in the office until you’re ready to leave.”
Mercedes stared at the keys she was holding. On the one hand, she implicitly trusted Victoria Montgomery.
On the other, she’d watched more than her share of slasher movies. Visions of being trapped on the island and stalked by a serial killer ran through her mind. She hesitantly held out the keys. “Thank you…”
“Olsen.” A half smile crept across his face and he tightened his grip on the keys. “Your car will be safe here.”
A small shiver of fear crept up Mercedes’ spine as her eyes met his. Slasher. Mercedes mentally shook her head. “Thank you Olsen.”
Mother and daughter exited the building and began walking toward Montgomery Hall. Mercedes waited until the overhead door closed behind them before speaking. “Something about that man is creeping me out.”
“You too? I thought I was being paranoid. I got the feeling he was studying us, sizing us up.”
“Like an insect.” Mercedes shuddered. “He looked familiar, like I’ve met him before.”
“A lot of people come in and out of the pawnshop,” Carlita pointed out. “He may have come in and you just don’t remember.”
“True, but there’s something about him I can’t quite put my finger on.” They rounded the corner where Lucien stood guarding their bags. “Your car is parked in the barn?”
“Yes.” Carlita nodded. “The man kept our car keys.”
“It’s standard operating procedure for overnight guests,” Lucien said. “Mrs. Montgomery prefers that house guests surrender their keys when they’re staying in Montgomery Hall.”
Carlita opened her mouth to reply and then quickly closed it. It was
