Exes and Woes: A Garlucci Family Saga Novel (Made in Savannah Mystery Series Book 14) Hope Callaghan (the dot read aloud .txt) 📖

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.”

“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