Exes and Woes: A Garlucci Family Saga Novel (Made in Savannah Mystery Series Book 14)

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Exes and Woes: A Garlucci Family Saga Novel (Made in Savannah Mystery Series Book 14) Page 13

by Hope Callaghan

The smile on Pete’s face widened. “Yes. You once told me you had never taken a proper tour of our lovely city. I thought it was a great idea for our first official date, and I managed to hire the best tour guide in Savannah.”

  “I can’t disagree with you there,” Carlita said. “Well, then. Carry on, Sam and Sadie. I can’t wait to find out more about my home.”

  Chapter 21

  We’ll start our tour in the Riverfront District at the city’s most famous hotel.”

  “The Marshall House,” Pete guessed.

  “Correct. Marshall House was built in the eighteen hundreds. It was once used as a hospital for Union soldiers and twice during the yellow fever epidemic.”

  They slowed when they reached the exterior of the four-story hotel. Sam set Sadie on the sidewalk, and she began to explore as far as her leash would allow.

  While Sadie scoped out her surroundings, Sam explained that the hotel underwent extensive renovations in the late nineties, with great efforts taken to ensure the hallmarks of the historic hotel were preserved.

  “Those that couldn’t be preserved were painstakingly recreated. We aren’t going in, but when you get a chance, it’s worth taking the time to check out the inside. Many of the wood floors are the original hardwoods, along with wood-burning fireplaces, exterior brick walls, and several clawfoot tubs dating back to eighteen eighty.”

  “It’s beautiful.” Carlita peered up at the iron veranda.

  They finished walking along the Riverfront District, stopping when they reached the Congregation Mickve Israel.

  “This is the third oldest Jewish synagogue in the United States. The synagogue contains a 15th Century Torah, the first five books of the Bible, and is the oldest Torah in North America. The synagogue also houses a collection of letters from George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, James Madison and several other presidents.”

  “Fascinating,” Carlita murmured. “I didn’t realize I knew so little about Savannah’s history.”

  “It would take weeks to give you a tour of the entire city. I learn new information all of the time, sometimes from my guests.”

  They cut through the City Market, making their way to the other end of the bustling square.

  “At one time, there were twenty-four squares, but now there are only twenty-two. The most famous are the ones with the fountains. The Forrest Gump movie put Savannah on the map, as well as the book, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.” Sam told them he highly recommended both.

  By the time they finished the tour, Carlita’s head was spinning with information, and she had a greater appreciation for the uniqueness and history of her adopted home.

  Sam escorted them to their starting point, the alley behind the apartment. Sadie let out a low whine and flopped down on the ground. “Sadie is tuckered out. It’s time for us to head home.”

  “Thank you for a wonderful tour,” Carlita lightly touched his arm. “It was the perfect way to spend the evening.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Pete chimed in. “And now I owe you and Mercedes an evening cruise and dinner on board The Flying Gunner.”

  “We’ll be taking you up on that soon. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” Sam tipped his hat before scooping up his pup and returning inside.

  Pete waited for the door to close behind them before reaching for Carlita’s hand. “All of our walking and touring has left me famished. The first half of our date is over, so now begins our second half. I’m leaving this part up to you. Where would you like to dine?”

  “I…” There were so many wonderful restaurants in the area she was itching to try, but there was one in particular she was anxious to visit – the one on Tybee Island owned by Ken Gibbons. “Do you mind taking a drive to Tybee? I want to check out a restaurant…bar and grill something.”

  “Sunrise Bar and Grill. Their ocean view is spectacular, and the seafood is very good.” Pete extended his arm, and they leisurely strolled to the end of the block before crossing the street. Pete’s Parrot House Restaurant was a few short feet away.

  He told Carlita to wait on the porch while he went to get his vehicle. He pulled up moments later behind the wheel of a shiny blue Ford pickup truck. He left the engine idling and circled around the front. “Shall we?”

  “I didn’t know you owned a pickup truck.” Carlita grabbed the handle with one hand as she hoisted herself onto the running board and scooted across the seat.

  “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me,” Pete teased. “Perhaps we should spend more time together.”

  Butterflies sent her stomach fluttering as she waited for Pete to shut her door.

  He returned to the other side, easily swinging into the driver’s seat. “The truck comes in handy for hauling equipment and supplies from the restaurant to the ship and back. I’ve decided it’s time to put my house up for sale and move into the apartment I’ve been renovating above the Parrot House.”

  Pete explained that he’d owned his ranch home and several acres of land on the outskirts of town for years. He realized he spent wasted hours running back and forth between his businesses. “I spend half my nights sleeping on the ship and figured maybe it was time to sell my place and move to town.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “Annie Dowton has agreed to list it for me. She’s a real gem.”

  “Yes, she is,” Carlita agreed. “If I’m ever in the market for more property, I’ll call Annie.”

  Pete cast her a sideways glance. “So, why the sudden interest in Sunrise Bar and Grill?”

  “Death,” Carlita said bluntly. “A real estate agent for Coastal Adventures, a company purchasing properties for a new Tybee Island venture, was found dead inside Elvira’s Tybee Island property. Her property also happens to be one the company is trying to purchase.”

  “Elvira’s got her hands in everything,” Pete said.

  “Yes, and she doesn’t even have to be here to cause chaos.”

  “What does the woman’s death and Sunrise have to do with you?”

  “Dernice and I stopped by the sales office only hours before the woman’s death. While I was there, I put my name and contact information on the sign-up sheet, inquiring about properties.” Carlita explained that after filling it out, they visited Elvira’s property to have a look around.

  “And her body was found inside Elvira’s building.”

  “Yes. Savannah Detective Skip Wilson has already questioned me. He knows I drove to St. Augustine to meet with Elvira. He also knows that I met Coastal Adventures’ sales agent just hours before her death.”

  “And Ken Gibbons, the owner of Sunrise, is somehow involved?”

  “He owns a piece of property Atlantic Deep is anxious to purchase for Coastal Adventure’s project.” Carlita lifted a brow. “You know Gibbons?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” Pete said. “Savannah, not to mention Tybee Island, are small communities. We both own restaurants and have known each other for years, ever since Ken took over running the restaurant.”

  Carlita grew silent as she processed the information. Pete was right. Savannah and Tybee Island were small communities.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t heard his name before.” Pete stopped at the light. He waited for it to turn green before turning left and toward the water.

  They drove along Tybee Island’s main drag to the end of the street before pulling into an empty parking spot near the corner of a tall blue building. “This is it.”

  Carlita reached for the door handle. Pete stopped her. “I’ll come around to open your door.” She gazed into his gray-green eyes, and her stomach did a flip-flop.

  “My goal is to make this date so memorable you won’t hesitate to accept when I ask again,” he said softly.

  “You’re on the right track.”

  Her eyes followed him as he walked around the front of the truck to the passenger side. Pete opened the door and helped her down.

  “Thank you. It’s higher up than it looks.”
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  “It is.” Pete placed a light hand on the center of her back and guided her down the narrow sidewalk.

  Carriage lights lined the sidewalks, illuminating the walkway and beckoning them inside. The clapboard façade was faded, and the building’s exterior reminded Carlita of a warehouse.

  They crossed the front porch and stepped inside. A bar, filled with patrons, ran along the left-hand side. Several large screen televisions blared loudly.

  A young woman approached the hostess station. “Good evening. Table for two?”

  “Yes, and a quiet one if you have it,” Pete said.

  The woman consulted her seating chart. “I have the perfect spot.” She led them along the bar, through the main dining area and to a second, smaller room. She stopped when they reached the front of the restaurant and a cozy corner overlooking the water. “Will this do?”

  “It’s perfect.” Pete pulled out Carlita’s chair and waited for her to have a seat before taking the one next to her. The young woman placed menus on the table. “Your server will be along shortly.”

  “Thank you.” Carlita smiled at her and waited until she was gone. “This is perfect. I love the view.” Several small sailboats dotted the water, their lights casting a romantic glow.

  “Aye. It’s a pretty one.”

  The server approached and introduced himself before taking their drink order. Carlita splurged on raspberry lemonade, and Pete did the same. While they waited for their drinks, they perused the menu. It had been hours since Carlita had eaten, and everything sounded delicious.

  “Let’s start with an appetizer,” Pete suggested.

  “I can’t decide. You pick.”

  Pete chose the crispy shrimp lettuce wraps and placed the order when their drinks arrived. He leaned back, giving the server room to place his drink on the table. “Is Ken in tonight?”

  “The owner, Ken Gibbons?”

  “Yes.”

  “He is. He’s in the kitchen.”

  “Could you tell him Pete Taylor and Carlita Garlucci, the owner of Ravello’s Italian Eatery, are here?”

  “I sure will. I’m heading back there to give the kitchen your appetizer order.”

  Pete thanked him and waited until he stepped away to check on another table. “I figured you might want to meet Ken. More than likely, you’ll cross paths somewhere down the road.”

  “I’m sure we will.”

  Pete lifted his glass. “Here’s to the first of many enjoyable evenings together.”

  Carlita lifted her lemonade. “To many more.” She sampled her fruity drink. “This is delicious.”

  “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you drink anything other than soda or tea.”

  “I normally don’t, but lemonade sounded refreshing.” Carlita and Pete discussed business, Luigi’s arrival and Pete’s upcoming pirate ship event, the one he’d hired Luigi to help with.

  “How’s it going with Luigi?”

  “Okay. I’m not sure if Savannah is a good fit for him. It’s a little tame for his lifestyle.”

  “Has he complained?”

  “No, although he strikes me as…” Carlita paused as she searched for the right words. “Perhaps a little restless.”

  “Not enough action,” Pete clarified.

  “Something like that.”

  “And you’re concerned if there’s not enough action, he may end up creating his own to liven things up.”

  “The thought has crossed my mind,” she admitted.

  The appetizer arrived promptly. Carlita slid a wrap onto her plate and sampled a corner of the spicy dish before deeming it perfect. She polished hers off while Pete was still working on his first. “I’m inhaling my food.”

  “I can appreciate a woman with a hearty appetite,” Pete teased.

  The server returned a short time later to clear the table and take their dinner order. “I’ll get your order right in.” He grabbed the menus and retreated, passing by a burly man who was headed in their direction.

  “Pete Taylor.” The man’s booming voice filled the small room.

  Pete shoved his chair back and stood. “Ken. It’s good to see you again.” He grasped the man’s arm as they shook hands.

  “I stopped by your restaurant last week, but you weren’t around.”

  “I’m sorry I missed you.” Pete motioned to Carlita, who was still seated. “I would like you to meet Carlita Garlucci. She owns Ravello’s Italian Eatery in Savannah’s Walton Square. Carlita, this is Ken Gibbons, the owner of this fine establishment.”

  Ken shook her hand. Not realizing the strength of his grip, he squeezed hard, and a sharp pain shot down her arm. She forced herself not to wince and let out a sigh of relief when he finally let go. “I was in there a few days ago with my son and had a delicious Italian dish. I think the name was cake-e-o-pep.”

  “Cacio e pepe,” Carlita said. “It means cheese and pepper. It has the taste of a stripped-down macaroni and cheese.”

  “With a side of steamed mussels.” Ken patted his stomach as he smacked his lips. “I’m still thinking about it.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed your meal.”

  The men began talking shop, and Carlita could sense Gibbons’ eyes on her. Every time she looked his way, Ken would look away. Finally, the conversation ended when Ken glanced at his watch. “I need to head back to the kitchen. I want to personally oversee the preparation of your meal. I’ll stop back by before you leave.” He gave them a nod and limped out of the dining room.

  “He seems like a…nice man,” Carlita said.

  “Ken’s a great guy. After a few minutes, his loud voice will get your ears to ringing. He lost part of his hearing during his tour in Iraq.”

  “He’s a veteran?” Carlita asked.

  “Two tours of duty, which is the reason for his limp. He was injured and returned to the States to take over the family business.”

  “I’ll be sure to thank him for his service.”

  The food came out a short time later, and Carlita enjoyed every bite of her mahi. Pete and she shared samples, each declaring theirs to be the best.

  The server stopped by as they were finishing up and removed the plates. Reluctant for the date to end, Pete ordered decaf coffee, and the conversation turned to the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday. Carlita had already invited Pete to dinner, and he’d accepted her invitation.

  The bill arrived, and after Pete paid, Ken was the one to deliver the receipt. “How was dinner?”

  “Delicious,” Carlita said. “Pete tells me you’re a veteran. Thank you for your service.”

  “You’re welcome,” Ken said. “It’s good to be home.”

  After he left, Carlita grabbed her purse and joined Pete, who led the way out of the restaurant. They were halfway through the main dining room when she caught the eye of a woman who looked all too familiar.

  She did a double-take when she realized who was seated at a table not far from the front door.

  Chapter 22

  Carlita marched across the dining room to the table for one. “Elvira Cobb.”

  “What are you doing here?” A look of surprise crossed Elvira’s face.

  “What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”

  Elvira shrank down in her chair. “Can you lower your voice?”

  Carlita temporarily forgot all about Pete and their date. She plopped down in the chair next to Elvira and leaned in. “Have you wrapped up your ex crisis?”

  “I’m close.”

  “Are you meeting with Gibbons to discuss the property sale?”

  “It’s none of your business. Besides, you’re not my keeper.”

  “Thank the Good Lord. I would go insane trying to keep track of you.”

  Elvira ignored the jab. “I would ask you the same thing. What are you doing here?”

  “Having dinner with Pete.” Carlita realized he was standing directly behind her. “We were having a very nice evening until now.”

  “You’re the one who came over.
It’s not like I was trying to spy on you. I’m here to see my friend, Ken.”

  “And I’m not spying on you,” Carlita hissed. “Listen. Detective Wilson is breathing down my neck. He was on my doorstep earlier today, asking me about Turbell, and then he wanted to know where I had been.”

  “I told him you visited me in St. Augustine,” Elvira said.

  “At least we corroborated our stories on that.”

  “Honesty is the best policy. For the most part.” Elvira folded her hands and leaned back in the chair. “I told him the reason you visited me in St. Augustine was because we’re partners in a business venture.”

  “You told him what?” Carlita roared. “You just put an even bigger target on my back.” Resisting the urge to shake some sense into the woman, she abruptly stood. “I will not allow you to ruin my wonderful evening. You are your own worst enemy and from here on out, you’re on your own.”

  Pete placed a light hand on her shoulder and gently pulled her away. “It’s not worth the aggravation, lass.”

  Elvira sprang from her chair. “Like it or not, we’re in this together. I thought you wanted to help me,” she whined. “Besides, you’re in just as deep as me, us being partners and all.”

  “We are not partners,” Carlita snapped. “I was happy minding my own business. In fact, we even had a few drama-free weeks while you were gone.”

  “You miss me. Admit it. Savannah is dull and boring without Elvira Cobb.” Elvira lowered her voice. “I think I’m getting close to figuring out who’s responsible for the woman’s death. That’s why I’m here.”

  Carlita’s eyes narrowed. “Does your friend, Ken, know something?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know yet. I just got here and was waiting for him to meet with me when you decided to make a scene.”

  “Pete is right. This isn’t a conversation worth having. Good luck with your investigation.”

  “You aren’t giving up,” Elvira called out after her. “You’re in too deep.”

  Carlita didn’t bother answering, didn’t bother turning around. Pete helped her back into the truck and then slid behind the wheel. “She’s quite adept at getting under your skin.”

 

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