Pirates in Peril: A Made in Savannah Cozy Mystery (Made in Savannah Cozy Mysteries Series Book 10) Hope Callaghan (unputdownable books TXT) 📖

“Hello, Glenda.”

“Hi, Carlita. I’m sorry to bother you.”

“No bother. Is everything all right?”

“I thought I would let you know Fire Chief Earl Gillison was waiting on my porch when I got home. You’re never going to guess what Lawson did.”

Chapter 8

“Lawson is a busy man,” Carlita said.

“He told Fire Chief Gillison he was certain Mark never left town. He claims Mark snuck onto the Mystic Dream sometime during the night and set fire to it.”

“That’s crazy.”

“What a jerk,” Glenda fumed. “Mark can prove he is and was out of town. Lawson doesn’t have a leg to stand on.”

“It sounds like this Lawson has a screw loose. Maybe it was one of his own employees who accidentally damaged the riverboat and won’t fess up to it,” Carlita theorized.

“Someone needs to warn Pete Taylor. He’s probably still down on the river with his new boat. If I were in his shoes, I would leave someone on board the pirate ship to keep an eye on it. I wouldn’t put it past Lawson to try something.”

“What did Mark say?”

“He’s on his way home. He’s going straight from the airport to Lawson’s place to confront him.”

“I’m sorry, Glenda. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.” After the call ended, Carlita stared at the phone. Did she want to become involved in a business venture already plagued with difficulties?

She wouldn’t put it past Lawson to try something, either. If she invested her money, would she have to be concerned about the safety of the ship and crewmembers or potential liability?

Carlita pushed her fears aside and began working on her chicken Milano. She removed a packet of thawed chicken breasts from the refrigerator and began sautéing them in a saucepan.

While she worked, she thought about Vinnie and Brittney. According to Vinnie, he loved being a casino manager. The penthouse apartment was almost finished and he was settling into married life. Her eldest son seemed genuinely happy.

Although Carlita wasn’t kidding herself the mafia element wasn’t a part of her son’s life...after all, Vito Castellini was the mob, at least Vinnie wasn’t tied to the man’s hip, handling all of Castellini’s dirty work.

The whole family was looking forward to Shelby and Tony’s upcoming wedding, and Carlita secretly hoped it wouldn’t be long before Violet became a big sister.

Shelby was tossing around the idea of quitting her job at the post office, but hadn’t decided what she wanted to do.

Carlita finished adding the rest of the ingredients and turned the burner on low. She had just finished cleaning up when Mercedes waltzed into the apartment. “Something smells delicious.”

“I’m making chicken Milano.”

“Yummy. What’s the occasion?”

“I invited Tony for dinner. I want to go over Pirate Pete and Tori’s business proposal.” Carlita wiped her hands on a dishtowel and dropped it on the counter. “I took a look at the agreement again. I can’t make heads or tails of it.”

“Me either. If you’re serious, you might want to contact an attorney.”

Carlita followed her daughter to her room. “How is Autumn?”

“Good. She seems to like her new boyfriend, Cole. She wants us to meet him soon.” Mercedes plopped down in her desk chair and spun around. “So you gonna let me handle the rental responsibilities after Ravello opens?”

“Gladly, if you’re sure you want to take it on.” Carlita leaned her hip against the doorframe. “That way, if you don’t like the tenant, you have only yourself to blame.”

“True.” Mercedes reached for her mouse. “If we’re not eating dinner ‘til seven, I still have a little time to work on my next round of book edits before Tony gets here.”

“And I better check on dinner.” Carlita wandered back to the kitchen. She wondered what Vinnie, Sr. would have thought of Shelby and Violet…or their son’s marriage to the daughter of the head of the mafia.

She wondered if he would approve of her business decisions and what would he say about the pirate ship venture. He would probably think it was crazy.

Carlita tasted the pasta sauce before turning the burner off and sliding the pan to the back of the stove.

“Rambo, would you like to take a walk?” She turned, almost tripping over her pooch who was guarding the stove and keeping an eye out for scraps. His tail thumped on the kitchen floor.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Carlita hollered down the hall to let Mercedes know they were going out for a walk.

There was a muffled reply, which she took for an “okay” and exited the apartment. “Let’s stop by the pawnshop to remind Tony about dinner.”

They waited in the back until Tony finished ringing up a customer’s purchase. “We’re going for a walk. I stopped by to remind you about dinner.”

“How could I forget? My stomach has been reminding me all afternoon.”

“I’m making one of my favorites…chicken Milano.” Carlita patted her son’s arm and headed outdoors, toward the restaurant. The construction workers had finished for the day and the building was quiet and empty.

When they reached John Alder’s building, Carlita paused. John and she had gone out a couple of times since the winter masquerade party at Tori’s place.

Although Carlita enjoyed John’s company, the small spark she’d initially felt had fizzled out. Deep down, she was still grieving the sudden loss of her Vinnie and perhaps even subconsciously comparing John to her deceased husband.

As if on cue, the front door opened and John stepped onto the stoop, almost colliding with Carlita. “I’m sorry, Carlita. I didn’t see you standing there.”

“It’s my fault. Actually, Rambo and I were absentmindedly loitering.”

John pulled the front door shut. “I see your dream of opening Ravello is getting closer every day.”

“Yes, and I can