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

“Me, too.”

The detective turned to Elvira, a stern expression on his face.

Elvira shook her head again as she said something.

The detective grasped her arm and guided her into the back of the patrol car.

“Uh-oh. They’re taking her down to the station.” Carlita pressed her forehead against the windowpane. “Can you tell if she’s handcuffed?”

“No. It doesn’t look like it.”

The women stood motionless as they watched the detective and the officer climb into the front of the car. The vehicle slowly made its way down the alley and disappeared from sight. “Glenda Fox said the authorities were close to making an arrest.”

“They must have something on her,” Mercedes said.

Dernice stepped into the alley. Carlita hurried onto the balcony. “Hey! Dernice.”

Elvira’s sister shaded her eyes as she looked up. “Yeah?”

“What happened?”

“With what?”

“With Elvira. She left with the police.”

“Eh,” Dernice crossed the alley. “It’s a minor misunderstanding. Elvira salvaged a picture frame from the museum’s recycle bin and brought it home. It still had a museum sticker on the back. When the cops searched our place the other day, they found it. Elvira told them she pulled it out of the junk pile. I guess they didn’t believe her because they took it as evidence and now the museum’s curator is claiming it was stolen.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” Dernice shook her head. “I think they plan to pin the painting theft on Elvira.”

“Are you going to try to bail her out?” Mercedes leaned both elbows on the railing.

“Nah. We finally hired an attorney.” Dernice waved dismissively. “He’s on his way down to the police station now. Ten bucks says she’s back by dinnertime. I gotta get going.”

Carlita waved good-bye and followed Mercedes inside. “I don’t think Elvira is going to have as easy of a time as Dernice seems to think she will.”

“Me, either,” Mercedes agreed. “Are we still on for a trip to the festival later?”

“Yeah. I think Astrid is up to something.”

“I was gonna say, even if we don’t keep an eye on Astrid, you might want to check it out.” Mercedes told her mother she found out from Sam that LaFitte Square was hosting a food truck festival.

“Food truck festival?” Carlita’s interest was piqued. “You know what? We need to get in on these food festivals, or the haunted restaurant tour business.” She warmed to the idea. “Mercedes, this is brilliant. I can’t wait to check it out.”

It was nearly five by the time Carlita and her daughter headed to LaFitte Square’s festival. Food trucks, parked bumper to bumper, lined the square. The tantalizing aroma of fried foods encompassed the center.

“Where should we start?”

“Eating or searching for Astrid?” Carlita joked.

“Either one.” Mercedes motioned to one of the food trucks. “I see an Italian food truck. They stepped over to the Pasta Paradise food truck, and Carlita perused the menu:

Pasta and Meatballs

Custom Flatbread Pizza

Eleven Layer Lasagna

Manicotti

Rigatoni

Italian Sampler: Mozzarella Cheese Sticks, Eleven Layer Lasagna and Meatballs

Freshly Baked Bread

Mama Mia’s Italian Ice

“You got any cash on you?” Carlita nudged her daughter.

“I do.” Mercedes pulled her cell phone and a twenty-dollar bill from her pocket. “What should we try?”

“The Italian Sampler.” Carlita ordered one sampler, extra marinara sauce and two Italian Ices.

“That’ll be nineteen dollars and ten cents.”

Carlita handed him the twenty. “Keep the change.” She carried the tray to a nearby picnic table. “There isn’t a lot of food here for almost twenty bucks.” She sliced a small piece of the lasagna. “Not bad. It’s a little dry and needs more sauce.”

Mercedes took a bite. “Yep.”

They sampled each of the items; both agreeing the food was tasty considering it was prepared in such a cramped space.

“You really think we should try a food truck?”

“Sure. Why not,” Mercedes said. “I bet we could lease a truck for a coupla months, to see how it goes. We gotta get Ravello’s on the map.”

They finished the food and tossed the wrappers in the trash before making their rounds. All the while, Carlita kept an eye out for Astrid. She finally spotted her standing near a park bench talking to a young couple.

Carlita took a quick step back to move out of her line of vision, but it was too late. Astrid spotted them and gave a small wave.

“We had better say hello.”

Astrid met them near the center of the square. “Hello, Mrs. Garlucci.”

“Hello, Astrid. Have you met my daughter, Mercedes?”

“Hi.” Mercedes smiled.

“Hey. Are you here to check out the competition?” Astrid asked.

“You could say that. Elvira said you’ll be leaving soon.”

“I am.” Astrid nodded. “I’m leaving first thing tomorrow morning.”

“I hope you have a safe trip. Perhaps we’ll see you again sometime if you ever fly back to the States.”

“Maybe.”

The trio made small talk for a few more minutes, and then Astrid excused herself.

Mercedes watched her walk away. “She doesn’t strike me as the criminal type. Why do you think she’s hiding her true identity?”

“I don’t know.” Carlita gazed at her thoughtfully. “She doesn’t strike me as a thief, either, but she is lying. Why is she leaving the country? Why was she living on the streets, scrounging through dumpsters for food?”

“Drugs?” Mercedes guessed. “Maybe she has a drug problem.”

“I suppose.” The women wandered around the area until the food trucks began closing up shop and pulling out of the square.

“We need to find somewhere to hang out where Astrid doesn’t see us,” Mercedes said. “We could go to the next square where we still have a visual. That way, we can see which direction Astrid heads.”

“I agree.”

The women strolled to the next square, this one partially concealed by manicured bushes and