Her daughter was sprawled out on the massive poster bed, remote in hand. “I found the Weather Channel. The latest storm report is showing Tropical Storm Rex heading right toward us.”
Chapter 11
“The storm is going to hit Savannah?” Carlita eased onto the edge of the bed, staring at the angry red and yellow glob on the television screen.
“If this storm’s track continues, Tybee Island will take a direct hit with a category one hurricane.” Mercedes glanced out the window. “I think we’re already seeing some of the edges. The forecaster called them the outer bands.”
As if on cue, the bedroom window creaked as a gust of wind pounded the windowpane.
Carlita’s stomach churned. “Maybe we should head home before it’s too late and we’re trapped here.”
“Check out the ticker at the bottom of the screen. It looks like the local authorities have already issued a mandatory curfew starting at six o’clock. They’re telling everyone to finish their last minute preparations, fill their gas tanks and head home.”
Carlita glanced at her watch. It was still early and they had plenty of time to make it to Walton Square. “Let’s track down Tori. Maybe she has better information on the storm or can at least tell us what to expect.”
Mercedes hopped off the bed. “I love this place. I hope we can stay. Besides, even if it hits, it’s only going to be a category one.”
“Only? Only a category one hurricane? Mercedes, we’ve never been through a hurricane.”
“How bad can it be?” Mercedes shut the television off and followed her mother into the hall.
The hall lights flickered and Carlita glanced at them nervously. “What if the power goes out?”
“You worry too much.”
When Mercedes and Carlita reached the lower hall, they circled through the formal dining room, the butler’s pantry and into the kitchen. “I think we made a wrong turn.”
One of the kitchen staff looked up. “Mrs. Garlucci?”
Carlita nodded. “Yes. I’m Carlita Garlucci and this is my daughter, Mercedes.”
“I hear you’re stayin’ with us for a couple days.”
“That was our plan, but it appears there’s a storm off the coast and coming our way. We’re thinking of driving home before it hits.”
“Ah.” The woman waved a spoon in the air. “Tis only a cat one if it hits. We’ll be gettin’ a little rain, a little wind, and perhaps a tornado or two. Montgomery Hall is a sturdy fortress, to be sure,” the woman replied, a hint of an Irish lilt in her voice. “I’ve been livin’ in this area for many a year. This is only a wee bit of a storm. Nothin’ too much to worry about.”
“See?” Mercedes elbowed her mother. “We have nothing to worry about.” She turned to the woman. “We were on our way to the drawing room for tea and cookies, but took a wrong turn.”
“I’ll take ya there.” The stout gray-haired woman wiped her hands on the front of her apron and limped around the side of the counter. “I’m Mrs. O’Brien, but you can call me Mary. There’s a fresh batch of shortbread cookies, and also a few chocolate chip cookies for you ta snack on.”
Carlita pointed at Mary’s leg. “Are you okay?”
“Yes ma’am. Just a bum knee,” Mary said. “That and I’m gettin’ old I suppose.”
The woman continued talking as they slowly made their way out of the kitchen, through a side door and down the long hall. “I suppose Lucien or Byron showed ya to yer rooms.”
“Yes, and they’re wonderful,” Mercedes gushed. “I have a claw foot tub in my bathroom.”
“Mrs. Montgomery has a lovely home, to be sure.”
“I take it you enjoy working at Montgomery Hall,” Carlita said.
“Oh, I do. Tis a wonderful place and Mrs. Montgomery is very generous. We all have lovely rooms and only have to share a bath with one other. The bath is in between the bedrooms.”
“Jack and Jill,” Mercedes said.
“Yes, that’s what we have. We get plenty of time off. There’s a big garden out back. It’s my favorite part of the property, but I also like to visit the farmer’s market on my mornings off and purchase what I think we might need for the week.”
“You’re in charge of the kitchen?” Carlita asked.
“Yes, I am. That and housekeeping. Most of us here at Montgomery Hall wear more than one hat. I’ve got a couple of part-time girls who pitch in after school, but most of the cooking is done by me. Although it’s not much work anymore since Mrs. Montgomery stopped entertaining a few years ago. I was surprised when she decided to hold the Merry Masquerade.” Mary tsk-tsked. “Such a lovely party, too, except for the unfortunate death of Ava Torrez.”
“You knew Ava?” Mercedes asked.
“Yes. Montgomery Hall is a small estate. We’re a tight knit motley crew,” Mary said. “One big happy family until.” She abruptly stopped talking and clamped her mouth shut.
“Until…” Carlita prompted.
“I don’t like to talk ill of the dead, but Ava, she was a troublemaker. She made poor Iris’ life miserable. Couldn’t keep her hands to herself, chasing after my nephew, Patrick.”
Carlita’s eyes lit. They’d hit the jackpot. Mrs. O’Brien was Patrick’s aunt.
Mary chattered on. “I knew she was gonna be trouble from the day she came in for an interview, actin’ all high an’ mighty. The sad thing was I was willin’ ta overlook her attitude, but she wasn’t much good at workin’ either.”
“She didn’t like to work?” Mercedes asked.
“You could say that, and she was as messy as they come. Why, the other day when I handed her a feather duster and asked her to dust the library and the drawing room, she looked at it as if she’d never
