Swiped in Savannah: A Made in Savannah Cozy Mystery (Made in Savannah Mystery Series Book 12) by Hope Callaghan (ereader android .TXT) 📗

“There’s nothing in the kitchen. What about the surveillance cameras?”

“The cashier, Vance, hinted the cameras weren’t working during the time the painting went missing.”

“Which confirms my theory the theft was an inside job,” Elvira paused. “What are you doing?”

“I told you, we were in the kitchen.”

“No. Not you. Dernice. Oh…do you have to do that right now?” Elvira groaned. “She’s using the bathroom. Hang on. I need to turn around, so I don’t have to watch.”

Carlita could hear Dernice mumbling something, and then Elvira was back. “Have you checked out the storage room?”

“No. We’re heading that way after Autumn fills out the application.”

“Good luck. If you get a chance, snap some pictures.”

Carlita promised that she would before turning the earpiece’s volume down.

Autumn tapped the top of the clipboard with the tip of her pen. “This is a complete waste of time.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. When we get back inside the kitchen, I’m going to see what the cook, Mrs. Finch, knows.”

Autumn finished filling out the application and slid the pen under the metal clip. “This is as good as it gets. They would never consider hiring me. I have zero restaurant experience. There’s no way I would take a job as a dishwasher. I hate doing my own.”

“I appreciate you going along with all of this,” Carlita said. “Elvira owes you one.”

The women stepped back into the kitchen, and Autumn limped across the room. “I don’t have much…uh…any restaurant experience.”

“We can train if the right person comes along.” Mrs. Finch perused the application. “You forgot to include your social security number.”

“I’ll provide it if or when I’m offered the job.”

“Nope. I need it now. The museum runs a background check on every person employed here before they begin work.”

“I’m not comfortable giving you that information,” Autumn insisted.

“Then I’m not comfortable discussing a possible position in my kitchen.” Mrs. Finch peered down the end of her nose.

“Fine. Let’s not waste each other’s time.” Autumn stiffened her back and hobbled across the kitchen. She didn’t stop until she reached the main hall. “I wouldn’t want to work here anyway.”

Carlita followed Autumn into the hall where she lifted her leg and began massaging her ankle. “These shoes are killing me.”

“We’re almost done. I need the diversion now if I’m going to attempt to have a look inside the storage room.” Carlita’s armpits grew damp. “What if we get caught?”

“You stick with the story you got lost. They can’t do anything if a visitor accidentally gets lost.”

“True.” Carlita smiled grimly, a look of determination on her face. “I don’t know how Elvira manages to involve me in her messes. I’m ready.”

The women made their way back to the front. Vance was seated on a barstool, peering down at his cell phone.

Autumn squeezed Carlita’s hand and began limping toward him. She slowly approached the desk. “I have a quick question about something in the gallery.”

Carlita waited until Vance followed Autumn into the next room. She darted to the storage room, eased the door open and slipped inside.

The interior of the storage room was dark, and it took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the lack of light.

The room was filled with towering stacks of boxes, empty picture frames along with several pieces of small furniture.

Carlita moved quickly as she began rummaging through the boxes.

“It’s no use.” She gave up on sorting through the boxes and began a perimeter check of the room for a possible hiding spot. Carlita rubbed a frantic hand across her brow. It would take her hours to sort through the stuff.

Elvira may be right - the missing artwork was still on the museum grounds, but Carlita suspected it wasn’t anywhere near this mess.

She tiptoed to the door and reached for the handle before remembering her promise to try to snap a few pictures of the interior of the storage room.

She eased her cell phone from her pocket and quickly snapped pictures from several different angles. Carlita switched the phone off and then gingerly eased the storage room door open, just enough to get a visual of the lobby.

Her heart plummeted when she spied Vance and the museum curator huddled in the center of the rotunda.

Autumn limped past them, carrying her shoes in her hand. She stepped outside and out of sight when Carlita heard her scream, causing a commotion on the museum’s front porch. The men ran out the front door.

Carlita bolted out of the storage room. In one swift move, she pulled the door shut behind her. She darted to the entrance where she found Autumn seated on a wooden bench, her shoes on the seat next to her and clutching her ankle.

Vance and Mr. Spelling were both leaning over her. Carlita hurried to join them. “Oh, dear. Are you all right?”

“I took a spill on a slippery spot inside the museum. My ankle is killing me.” Autumn blinked back tears.

Carlita peered anxiously at Autumn’s swollen ankle. “You may have sprained it. I’ll go get the car.”

“If you could pull around to one of the handicap spots, we’ll help her to the car,” Vance offered.

“I need my purse,” Carlita said.

Vance and Carlita returned inside while Mr. Spelling stayed behind with Autumn.

After retrieving her purse, Carlita hurried down the steps and to her car. She cast a quick glance at the porta potty.

The door opened, and Elvira emerged.

She motioned for her to stay inside before switching her mic on. “You’ll have to stay put. Autumn twisted her ankle. I’m driving to the front of the building where an employee and Mr. Spelling are going to help her to the car. You need to stay out of sight.”

“Ten-four,” Elvira’s voice crackled. “Swing back around the alley and pick us up.”