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her daughter. She swirled the fettuccine around her fork and took a big bite. “I like it…nice and creamy.”

“And absolutely dreamy,” Mercedes quipped. “I think you should start by offering it as a dinner special and then add it to the menu if customers like it.”

“Mercedes, that’s a brilliant idea.” The women finished their savory snack, and Carlita set the pan of food off to the side to cool. “We’ll have this for dinner and maybe send some home with Tony so they won’t have to cook tonight.”

The outer doorbell buzzed.

“I wonder who that could be.” Carlita reached for a dishtowel.

“I’ll find out who it is.” Mercedes darted out the door and down the steps. She returned moments later. “Hey, Ma.”

“Did someone accidentally lock themselves out again?” Carlita hung the dishtowel on the front of the stove before stepping out of the kitchen.

“No.” Mercedes stood in the doorway. She wasn’t alone. A uniformed police officer stood next to her.

“Hello.”

“Mrs. Garlucci?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Detective Wilson from the Savannah Police Department.”

“Detective Wilson. You look vaguely familiar.”

“I believe we may have met while I was investigating a missing person’s case.”

“Ah.” Carlita lifted a brow. “The JL Cordele case. Now I remember. How can I help you?”

“I’m sorry to bother you.” The detective pulled a small notepad from his pocket and flipped it open. “I’m investigating the theft of a valuable painting from the Darbylane Museum. The owner of the security company hired to guard the artwork used you as a reference.”

“Elvira Cobb,” Carlita said.

“You know Ms. Cobb?”

“Yes, I know her. Not only is she a former tenant, but she’s also my neighbor.” Carlita motioned toward the alley. “She owns the building behind me.”

“Yes, I noticed you two were neighbors.”

“Unfortunately.”

“I was hoping you could answer a few questions about your relationship with Ms. Cobb. How long you’ve known her, as a tenant had she ever done anything to cause you concern in a professional manner or otherwise.”

“Ma evicted her,” Mercedes said.

“Evicted her?” The detective plucked the pen from this front pocket and began scribbling. “If you don’t mind me asking, why would you evict your tenant and then allow her to use you as a reference?”

“She didn’t ask my permission to use me as a reference,” Carlita said. “She just did it.”

“I see. Could you elaborate on why you evicted Ms. Cobb?”

“It wasn’t for theft.”

“She set her apartment on fire,” Mercedes said.

The detective’s jaw dropped. “No kidding.”

“It wasn’t intentional; at least I don’t believe it was intentional,” Carlita shrugged. “The fire was the last straw, though. She probably shouldn’t have used me as a reference.”

“Would you have given her permission to use you as a reference?” Detective Wilson asked.

“I…maybe. Maybe not.”

“There are two other local business owners Ms. Cobb used as references. Glenda Fox, the President of Savannah Architectural Society. Mrs. Fox is also Cobb’s former employer, along with the owner of Parrot House Restaurant, Pete Taylor. Do you know either of them?”

“Yes,” Carlita nodded. “Glenda and I are friends. Mr. Taylor is a business associate. I’m a partner in his pirate ship venture.”

“Interesting.” The detective eyed Carlita curiously.

“Savannah is a small town.”

“It can be. Do you know anything about the missing painting at the museum?”

“I heard about it from a friend and also caught the local headlines about it this morning,” Carlita said. “I’m not sure why someone would want to steal that particular painting.”

The detective stopped writing. “You were at the museum yesterday during the exhibit?”

“Yes.” A feeling of dread swept over Carlita. “I was.”

“Did you speak with Ms. Cobb at any time during your visit?”

“I…Yes. Elvira offered me a ‘behind-the-scenes’ tour of the exhibit while waiting for a special guest to arrive. I took a quick tour of the museum, we stopped by the kitchen area to taste test some of the hors d’oeuvres and then we returned to the front.”

“Did Ms. Cobb say anything about the exhibit, something which may have struck you as odd or out-of-character?”

“Odd? Yes. Out of character for Elvira? No.”

“And what exactly was that?”

Carlita could feel her cheeks redden. “I…Elvira tends to make a lot of off-the-wall and odd comments.”

“Specifically about the museum or the artwork?” Detective Wilson prompted. “Did she say anything about the artwork that was stolen?”

“Well…” Carlita hesitated. “Elvira dabbles in artwork, and she paints. She made an offhand remark about how her artwork was better than the artwork in the exhibit.”

“Is there anything else?”

Carlita swallowed nervously. Although she’d told Elvira she wouldn’t lie to the investigators if questioned, she was certain that repeating what Elvira had said - even in jest - would look bad. “Yes. She said she could replace A Piece of Renaissance with her own artwork, and that no one would notice.”

The detective tapped the top of his notebook thoughtfully. “And it never occurred to you she might actually do just that?”

“No.” Carlita hurried on. “You have to know Elvira to understand. She says stupid stuff all of the time.”

“Yeah. All of the time,” Mercedes chimed in. “It doesn’t mean she actually does half of the things she talks about.”

“I didn’t take it seriously. Truth be told, I don’t honestly believe Elvira is responsible for the missing artwork.”

“Is there anything you can think of that you would like to add?” the detective asked.

“No,” Carlita grimaced. “I think I’ve said enough.”

“If you remember anything else, here’s my card.” Detective Wilson handed Carlita his card. “I believe it’s time for me to stop back by Ms. Cobb’s place now that I have this additional information.”

Carlita held the door for the detective and followed him down the stairs. “Like I said, Elvira shoots off her mouth without thinking. I can’t imagine her actually stealing the artwork. Besides,

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