Swiped in Savannah: A Made in Savannah Cozy Mystery (Made in Savannah Mystery Series Book 12) by Hope Callaghan (ereader android .TXT) 📗
- Author: Hope Callaghan
Book online «Swiped in Savannah: A Made in Savannah Cozy Mystery (Made in Savannah Mystery Series Book 12) by Hope Callaghan (ereader android .TXT) 📗». Author Hope Callaghan
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “I can’t say as I’m surprised…that helping her backfired, I mean.”
“It’s a long story,” Carlita sighed. “So you have an idea for Ravello’s, to help drum up more business.”
“The riverfront district property owners are meeting today to discuss Spooky Eats and Inns.”
“Spooky Eats and Inns?”
“It’s a new tour some area business owners are putting together.” Glenda explained the director of the riverfront’s historic district was meeting with the locals interested in offering haunted tours of the restaurants and inns. “This would be perfect for Ravello’s.”
“I’m not technically in the riverfront district.”
“But you’re close enough.” Glenda hurried on. “Your place was once a casket company rumored to be haunted. It would be the perfect place to add to the tour. Just think of the possibilities.”
Carlita warmed to the idea. “I…yes. It might work. What an awesome idea.”
“The director of the riverfront historic district, Elizabeth Portsmith, is holding a meeting at our place, Savannah Riverfront Inn in about an hour to pitch the idea to several of the inn and restaurant owners. I think you should come.”
“It won’t hurt to hear more,” Carlita said. “I can use all of the help I can get.”
“Then I’ll see you in about an hour.”
Carlita thanked her friend for thinking of her before disconnecting the call.
“Was that Glenda?” Mercedes stood in the doorway.
“Yes.” Carlita repeated what her friend had said. “There’s a meeting at Mark’s inn on the river in about an hour. I figured I would run down there to hear what they have to say.”
“I’ll go with you.”
Mercedes and Carlita made it to the inn with a few minutes to spare. Because of the large turnout, the group assembled in the enclosed courtyard.
Glenda’s husband addressed the crowd and then motioned to a woman standing next to him. “I’m going to turn this meeting over to Elizabeth Portsmith, the Riverfront District’s Historical Society Director. Elizabeth.”
A tall woman, thin and with shoulder-length hair smiled at Mark before taking the mic. Her eyes scanned the crowd. “Thank you all for coming. After meeting with several of the riverfront business owners, we came up with a plan to offer a tour of the district’s inns and restaurants. A haunted tour.”
Elizabeth briefly outlined the idea. Carlita grew more excited by the minute. Her restaurant met all of the criteria with the exception of the location. Although Ravello’s was close to the riverfront district, it wasn’t technically on the river.
Mercedes tugged on her mother’s arm. “This is perfect, Ma. Our place is haunted. It’s close to the river. I think we should sign up.”
“We’ll see.” Carlita didn’t want to get her hopes up. Several owners raised some excellent questions. There was a detailed discussion about the nuts and bolts of putting a tour together.
Finally, Elizabeth suggested another meeting the following week and asked for a show of hands of area owners interested in the new venture.
Mercedes’ hand shot up. “We’re in,” she whispered to her mother.
“I hope so.”
“Perfect. We meet here next week at the same time. For those of you who raised your hands, please forward me your information and topics you would like to discuss.”
The crowd began to clear out while several of the attendees approached Portsmith who was handing out business cards with her contact information.
Mercedes and her mother waited their turn before collecting the woman’s card. She handed the card to Mercedes, but her eyes were on Carlita. “You look vaguely familiar.”
“I own several businesses in Walton Square, including a new restaurant, Ravello’s Italian Eatery,” Carlita explained.
“Ah.” The woman lifted a brow, eyeing her with interest. “You’re also the one the authorities caught on camera sneaking into Darbylane Museum’s storage area yesterday.”
“It was a minor misunderstanding,” Carlita mumbled.
“Uh-huh. Well, you’re not technically in the riverfront district, so I’m not sure you meet the criteria for joining the tour owners. How did you hear about this meeting?”
“Glenda Fox and I are friends.”
“I see. That changes everything. I suppose we could stretch the rules a bit.” She pinched her thumb and index finger together. “I’m assuming the search of your premises didn’t turn up anything.”
Carlita shifted her feet. “No, it did not. I have nothing to do with the missing artwork.”
“But you are a suspect,” the woman gloated.
Carlita could feel her blood begin to boil. Portsmith was intentionally baiting her. “And so is every member of Darbylane Museum’s board,” she shot back.
“Thank you for the card. We’ll be in touch.” Mercedes grasped her mother’s hand and propelled her out of the courtyard. “What was that all about?”
“You heard her. She practically came right out and accused me of stealing the painting.”
“She didn’t take kindly to your comment that she was a suspect, as well.” Mercedes crumpled the business card. “It looks like we can kiss our chances of getting a spot on the haunted tour good-bye.”
“Why?”
“You heard her. She thinks we’re involved in the theft.”
“And she has an ax to grind.” Carlita’s eyes narrowed. “I think it’s time to take a closer look at Elizabeth Portsmith.”
Chapter 15
Carlita texted Glenda, whom she’d seen at the meeting, but with so many people on hand hadn’t been able to make it through the crowd to reach her. “We’re outside on the steps.”
A breathless Glenda joined them moments later. “Well? What do you think? Is the haunted tour something Ravello’s might be interested in trying?”
“Yes, except that Ms. Portsmith doesn’t appear particularly keen on having me or my restaurant join the group.”
“Why not?”
“She doesn’t like me.” Carlita had a sudden thought. “Is Elizabeth Portsmith on the Darbylane Museum’s board?”
“Yes. As a matter of fact, she is.”
“We stopped to get her business card. She all but accused
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