Page 33 of Shakedown in Savannah

Based on what Enzo and Costanza had said, it appeared Lombardo did as well. Had her husband torched the place, realizing he’d made a terrible investment in the hopes he could pay off the loan and walk away?

No wonder Danny Lombardo was breathing down her neck. He was heavily invested in a pile of rubble and decided to send his two goons to collect from widow Carlita, who happened to have not one, not two, but three successful, profitable businesses.

Setting up shop in the States was probably looking like a lucrative move, at Carlita’s expense. And then there was the possibility he knew about the Marshland Isles Diamond. Why on earth would Vinnie use Marshland Isles as the name?

Because he thought the original lender, perhaps even Lombardo, were on the other side of the world and wouldn’t know anything about the diamond? Carlita would never have her answer.

What she knew was she was on the hook for a sizeable sum of money. Possibly even more concerning was the fact Enzo and Costanza mentioned more than once having her pay for “protection.”

For how long? Weeks? Months? Years? At what price? Half her profits forever? This, above all else, was what had kept her up. She could eventually dig her way out of the financial hole, but if these new-to-the-area mafia members were setting up shop, she could be in for a very long haul.

Her second concern was Vinnie insisting he be with her when she met with them. Without coming right out and saying it, Carlita believed he was also concerned this “family,” completely unrelated to the Castellini family, was moving in and planned to operate in the same circles.

Carlita slipped out of bed and tiptoed into the kitchen. Rambo, who was sleeping near the bar, scrambled to his feet and made a beeline for the door. “I know. You need to go out.”

She ran to the bathroom, swapped out her pajamas for sweats and a T-shirt and followed her pup down the stairs.

The morning air was cool and clear. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Carlita should’ve known things were going a little too smoothly. Even having Kris and Monty her python, staying under the same roof, hadn’t been this stressful.

For the life of her, she still couldn’t understand what had gone through her deceased husband’s head. Why purchase all these Savannah properties? Perhaps he thought they’d been too good of deals to pass up.

Even her businesses had needed extensive renovations to make them habitable. Hard work, grit, determination and cold hard cash. Finally, things were going well. Someday, she and Pete could step back and let their children and families continue building generational wealth.

But not if Sicilian mobsters planned to swoop in and steal her profits. They would be working for pennies. Meanwhile, Lombardo and his “family” would benefit. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.

Somehow, she needed to convince the guy to give her a break. But how?

Back inside, Carlita started a pot of coffee and began working on breakfast. Pete appeared midway through and helped. They carried their plates to the penthouse balcony, glimpsing the glorious sun peeking over the horizon.

“This is a million dollar view,” Carlita said. “I’ll never grow tired of it.”

Pete reached for her hand. “We’ll have many years to enjoy it.”

“Unless we’re forced to sell everything we own to get rid of Lombardo.” Carlita toyed with her eggs, suddenly losing her appetite.

“We aren’t selling anything.” Pete sipped his coffee, eyeing his wife over the rim of his cup. “I’ve given it some thought. Based on what we’ve learned, this man could believe Vinnie blew up his own building.”

“Costanza and Enzo said something along the lines of my Vinnie leaving it in less than ideal condition. I don’t believe it.”

“Maybe he’s unwilling to make a deal because it’s his way of punishing you or teaching others who do business with him what will happen if they cross him.”

“Meaning he’s using us as a lesson?” Carlita shrugged. “I suppose it’s possible.”

“So…let’s say there’s a chance you can prove Vinnie didn’t destroy the Morton Street property. You’re able to reason with Danny Lombardo, come to a mutual agreement about the repayment of the loan.”

“Hey, Ma.” Vinnie appeared in the doorway, fully dressed and looking like he was headed to the office. Crisp, collared shirt with the first button undone. Tan slacks. Dress shoes, his hair damp from the shower and clean shaven.

“Good morning, Son. We have breakfast on the stove,” Carlita said.

“Thanks. I’m not much of a breakfast person, but I’ll grab a cup of coffee.” He disappeared, returning a short time later, cup in hand. “Looks like a beautiful day.”

“A beautiful day to find out if Lombardo’s associates are going to make us sign a bad deal,” she sighed.

“Not necessarily. Believe it or not, there’s a certain honor amongst the mob. My way of thinking is Lombardo believes Pops torched the place to collect insurance money. He’s ticked and is gonna make you pay to set an example.”

“Which is pretty much what Pete just said. Do you think we have a shot at reasoning with him, paying him his money and settling the debt?”

“Maybe. We would have to prove Pops didn’t do it.” Vinnie told them he had a call in to a friend of a friend who had various connections. “I’m putting the feelers out to see if this might be the case.”

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