Page 7 of Shakedown in Savannah

Autumn turned to go. Carlita stopped her. “I haven’t seen your brother, Steve in a while. How’s he doing?”

Autumn tipped her hand back and forth. “The tattoo business has been a little slow lately. In fact, his girlfriend, Paisley, is looking for work. If you know of anyone who needs help, please send her their way.”

Carlita thought about her food delivery business and food truck, both of which had picked up, thanks to Autumn featuring it on her Divine Eats in Savannah show. Perhaps she could return the favor. “I’m always looking for drivers for my delivery service. Not to mention the music festival is starting and we have a spot reserved for our food truck.”

Autumn jotted Paisley’s cell phone number on a slip of paper and handed it to Carlita. “She might not have a lot of experience in food service, but she’s a fast learner.”

“I’ll definitely keep her in mind.” Carlita tucked the piece of paper into her pocket.

The others headed out while Stuart Wempley lingered. He shook Pete’s hand. “Thank you for entrusting me with this project. If it’s all right with you, I would like to remain in the loop.”

“Absolutely. If not for your sharp eye, we might have trampled over the top of what could be a significant historical discovery.” Pete escorted him to his vehicle while Carlita hung out on the porch.

She waited until he got back. “I think we should heed Luigi’s warning to triple lock the tunnel door.”

“I have several I think will do the trick.” Pete and Carlita made a beeline for the workshop out back. It took a little searching, but he finally found two more sets of locks. The second was a heavy-duty deadbolt that no amount of hairpins or twisty ties could bypass.

“We should also check to make sure Elvira’s floodlight is unplugged,” Carlita said as they made their way back downstairs.

“Good idea. We don’t need the cord shorting out and setting the place on fire.”

“Bite your tongue.” Carlita picked her way along the uneven floor, trying to imagine what it had been like hundreds of years ago when pirates roamed the river, lived in the restaurant, plundered and pillaged.

It was hard to envision her husband being a direct descendant of such a rowdy bunch. Although it was one of the things she loved about Pete. He was, at least in her mind, a charming swashbuckler.

Perhaps Carlita was attracted to bad boys. Her first husband, Vinnie, had been a mafia shylock. Mafia men, pirates. Despite her deceased husband’s less than legal or legitimate line of work, he had loved his family, his wife and children. Had loved them until the day he died.

Pete was the same. A devoted husband and father. Carlita remembered the saying, “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” It fit the two men who had captured her heart perfectly.

He slid the lock in place and tested the combination. “After all these years, I still remember the combination.”

“Which is?”

“My birthdate.”

Carlita tapped the side of her head. “As long as Elvira doesn’t figure it out.”

“We have two more locks in case she does.” Pete started to pull the door shut.

“We were going to make sure the spotlight was unplugged,” she reminded him.

“You’re right.” Pete, with Carlita close behind, trekked along the narrow corridor. They reached the gaping hole and found the spotlight unplugged. “We’re good to go.”

She lingered, curiously peering into the dark abyss.

He followed her gaze. “I have to say, I’m intrigued.”

“Me too. Do you think some sort of pirate ship was dragged through here?”

“It could be.” Pete plugged the light back in and turned it on. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt for us to take another quick look around.”

“As long as we steer clear of the markings in the dirt.”

“Yes.” Pete climbed over the wall and turned back to give his wife a hand.

She let him help her reach the other side, shivering involuntarily at the shadowy walls and dark corners. “It’s kinda creepy down here all alone.”

“Can you imagine being a Savannah local, having a big night at the bar? You pass out only to discover when you finally wake up you’re on board a pirate ship bound for who knows where?”

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