Swiped in Savannah: A Made in Savannah Cozy Mystery (Made in Savannah Mystery Series Book 12) Hope Callaghan (english novels to improve english TXT) 📖

She left her son, a puzzled expression on his face, and returned to the apartment. “This is for you.” Carlita placed the money on the table next to Astrid.

Astrid began shaking her head. “I can’t take this. I can’t accept your money. You’ve been so generous. You got me out of trouble. You gave me clothes and food. I can’t accept your money.”

“I insist.”

Astrid stared at the money, tears freely streaming down her cheeks.

“It’s only four hundred dollars, but this will buy you food, public transportation and give you a little breathing room.”

Mercedes, who had been quietly watching, left the table. She returned with more money. “I have some cash, too. I won’t need it anytime soon.” She placed a small stack of bills on top of the pile.

Astrid coughed and then burst into tears, long wracking sobs shaking her body.

Carlita wrapped her arms around the woman, her heart breaking at the anguish she must be feeling. “It’s gonna be all right. Just think. This is a new beginning for you, Astrid.”

Astrid nodded as she continued to cry uncontrollably. “I hope so.”

Carlita held tight until the sobbing subsided.

Astrid sniffled loudly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come unglued.”

“It’s okay. We all need a good cry once in a while.” Carlita straightened her back. “Now. Take the money. If you ever return to Savannah, promise me you’ll stop by to let us know how you’re doing.”

“I will.” Astrid reached for the money. “I didn’t tell you to make you feel sorry for me.”

“You didn’t have to. I already knew you were in a bad place,” Carlita pointed to the sandwich. “Now eat your lunch.”

The conversation turned to Astrid’s plans once she arrived in Paris, and Carlita was relieved to discover she had given some serious thought to her future.

Carlita offered to let her sleep on the sofa for the night, but Astrid politely declined. She told them she would be leaving early the next morning. “Elvira is dropping me off at the airport. I’m not very good at good-byes.”

“I’m not either.” Carlita and Mercedes walked her to the alley. Both gave her a warm hug.

“Au revoir,” Astrid whispered. “Until we meet again.”

“Until we meet again,” Carlita echoed.

Chapter 23

Astrid returned to her tent while Mercedes and her mother returned home.

“I feel sorry for Astrid,” Mercedes said.

“Me, too. And I feel guilty,” Carlita confessed. “I thought I had it all figured out. I was almost convinced it was just Astrid, not the sweet old couple, the Cagles. We always expect the worst of some people, judging before we know all of the facts and accepting based on what we see or hear. This is a lesson to me, that I should get all of my facts straight before passing judgment.”

Carlita’s mood was somber the rest of the evening as she thought about Astrid’s heartbreaking circumstances.

Mercedes was quiet, too, and a lingering sadness stayed with both of them.

Before heading to bed, Carlita stepped out on the balcony, her eyes drifting in the direction of the parking lot and Astrid’s tent.

She slept fitfully that night and woke early. Carlita started a pot of coffee before leading Rambo outside to his favorite spot for his morning break.

Astrid’s tent was gone. The empty spot filled her with a melancholy sadness. Carlita said a small prayer for the woman.

Back inside, she finished filling out the rental agreement for the new tenant, Angelica Reynolds.

Mercedes was still asleep when the moving van pulled into the alley. Carlita met them downstairs. She showed them the efficiency unit and then stood off to the side as they began unloading the furniture.

“The unit is already furnished,” she told a man carrying a hot pink beaded floor lamp.

“Well, you got even more furniture now.”

Next was a leopard print loveseat followed by an armoire that barely fit through the doorway. There was a bearskin rug, the snarling head of the bear clearly visible.

The man carrying the rug slowed as he passed Carlita. “Ugly, huh?”

“It’s…interesting.”

The men had almost finished unloading the van when a sleek, silver convertible turned the corner and pulled in behind the van.

The door opened. A woman, clad in a tangerine-tinged dress and a matching scarf tied snugly around her head, emerged. Large, dark sunglasses covered her eyes and half her face.

She stalked to the back of the moving van. “I see I’m just in time,” she whispered in a raspy voice. “I trust you didn’t damage any of my priceless antiques.”

“Priceless antiques?” The man holding a zebra print barstool chuckled. “I wouldn’t put this stuff by the curb for free.”

“Why…you don’t know what you’re talking about.” The woman pressed a hand to her chest, clearly shocked by the perceived insult. “You are a man of no class.”

“Whatever.” The man shrugged. “This is the last of it.”

Carlita stepped closer and held out her hand. “Angelica Reynolds. I’m Carlita Garlucci, your landlord.”

“Ah.” Angelica turned to Carlita, smiling widely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I have some paperwork upstairs, the rental agreement. I’ll need your signature.”

“Of course.” Angelica stepped to the side to give the mover room to exit the building.

“That’s everything.” The man opened the cab of the van. He returned, carrying a clipboard. “You need to sign off on the delivery.”

“No.” Angelica shook her head. “I won’t be signing anything until I’ve had a chance to inspect my belongings to ensure there’s no damage.”

“Fine.” The man scribbled on the sheet, ripped off a copy and handed it to Angelica. “We won’t return the deposit until you sign.”

“What?” Angelica’s eyes flew open and then quickly narrowed, her red lips pursed tightly together. “You’ll never get another job in