Page 50 of Shakedown in Savannah

“Good idea.” Carlita made a zipping motion across her lips. “I won’t say a word. Boy, wait until Elvira finds out.”

“We beat her to the punch.” Pete chuckled. “We’ll be able to wrap it up and see what we have on our hands before Mercedes treats us to her Italian feast.”

Chapter 20

By the time Pete and Carlita arrived at the Parrot House Restaurant, the local Savannah historian and archaeologist was already waiting for them at the hostess station.

Although the lobby was full, Carlita had no trouble picking him out of the crowd. Wide-brimmed hat. Fitted t-shirt. Loose khaki slacks. Steel-toed boots.

He eased past a group waiting to be seated. “Pete Taylor?”

“Yes.”

“I recognize you from a writeup about your pirate ship.” The man extended his hand. “I’m Arvid Poindexter, Savannah historian and part-time archaeologist. I don’t go by my first name. Please call me Poindexter.”

“Poindexter it is. You can call me Pete.”

“Thank you for letting me come by on such short notice.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you could fit us in. This is my wife, Carlita. We’re eager to find out what’s downstairs.” Pete looked around. “Do you have equipment?”

“It’s in my van.” Poindexter explained he didn’t want to drag it through the restaurant and draw attention. “Do you have a rear entrance?”

“We do.” Pete, with Carlita by his side, led the man outside and around to the back. “The steps are near the center of the building. Unfortunately, we will have to navigate through one of the dining rooms to get to the tunnel system.”

Carlita waited near the door while the men left to collect the equipment. They returned, each carrying a large canvas bag.

“I’ll get the door.” She hurriedly opened it and stepped aside. “Is there anything else?”

“This is it.”

The trio trekked down the hall, through the dining room and descended the stairs.

Making quick work of unlocking the first access point, Pete escorted them to the “t” and turned right. Reaching his tunnel, he began working on the first lockset.

“You take tunnel security seriously.”

“We had to,” Carlita said. “There’s another interested party, a person who might be tempted to sneak in here.”

“A local?” Poindexter asked.

“Yes. She’s chipped away, blasted out, dug through her tunnels and now has her sights set on this one.”

“It wouldn’t happen to be Elvira Cobb, would it? She’s the only person I know of who has been issued a cease and desist letter by the city.”

“It’s her,” Carlita said. “At the risk of not minding my own business, do you know exactly what was in the letter?”

“What you described,” Poindexter said. “Concerns about the structural integrity of the tunnels, the walls. Using explosives without securing a permit. Tampering with city property. How did she become involved in this endeavor?”

“It’s a long story,” Pete sighed. “Most of it a direct result of her persistence and finally wearing me down.”

“Will she be joining us today?”

“Not if I can help it. Whether she shows up uninvited is an entirely different matter.” He finished unlocking the locks and eased the heavy metal door open.

Poindexter lifted his gaze, studying the ceiling. “I thought this might be the case.”

“What?”

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