Chapter 1

“This is a great night.” Mercedes clapped her hands, doing a little side shimmy and bumping hips with her friend, Autumn Winter, as they grooved to Cool Bones and the Jazz Bands’ opening number.

Cool Bones, a family friend and tenant of the Garlucci family, had been traveling for several weeks, celebrating the honorary distinction of being selected Georgia Jazz Music’s recipient of the year.

To celebrate, the band was back home, playing where they’d gotten their start—at the Thirsty Crow in downtown Savannah.

During a break in the set, Mercedes darted to the stage. She gave Cool Bones a warm hug. “We’re glad you’re back home. We’ve missed you.”

“And I’ve missed all of you.” Cool Bones returned the hug. Autumn, also a tenant, slipped in next to her.

“Hey, neighbor. Thank you for keeping an eye on my place.”

“You’re welcome,” Autumn said. “Mercedes and I made sure your plants didn’t die.”

“I appreciate you taking good care of them. Me ‘n the boys are gonna stay put for a while now. All this fame and recognition is exhausting.”

“I’m sure being recognized as one of the best jazz bands of all times is hard work,” Mercedes teased. “As soon as you’re settled, I’m throwing a party down in the courtyard.”

Cool Bones waved dismissively. “I appreciate the offer, but you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” she insisted. “I can’t count how many times you’ve offered to play for me and my friends for free.”

“We’ll bring the music. How’s that?”

“You have yourself a deal.” She gave him a thumbs up.

Cool Bones returned to the stage while Mercedes and Autumn swung by the bar to order drinks.

The place was jam-packed. The band’s recent award, announced on news channels and in the papers, had created an air of excitement. Locals were eager to help them celebrate, and Mercedes couldn’t have been prouder of her neighbor and friend.

Steve, Autumn’s brother, and his girlfriend Paisley arrived, crowding around the table. Carlita, Pete, Tony, Shelby, Elvira, her sister Dernice, and Luigi hit the dance floor, kicking up their heels to the tunes they’d heard so many times when Cool Bones practiced in his apartment.

During the next break, Carlita and Pete called it a night, once again congratulating the jazz band on their distinguished award before leaving.

The hour grew late, and the crowd thinned while the band finished performing their final set. Mercedes, Autumn, Elvira, Dernice and Luigi were among the last still hanging out.

“I’m gonna run to the restroom before we head home.” Mercedes hopped off the barstool, making a beeline for the bathroom. She took care of business, washed her hands, and checked her reflection in the mirror above the sink.

Mercedes ran her fingers through her jet black hair before tossing the crumpled paper towel in the trash on her way out. Easing the door open to make sure no one was on the other side, she made a beeline for her friends.

Out of nowhere, the bar’s entrance doors flew open. Flashes of black. Badges. Loud voices. Mercedes stood paralyzed as a small army of police officers cut through the center of the bar, all bearing down on Cool Bones and the band, who were still on stage.

Mercedes held her breath, watching in horror as an officer grasped Cool Bones’ arm. He spun him around and began reading him his rights while he slapped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists.

The stunned onlookers moved out of the way, making room for Cool Bones. Flanked by an officer on each side, they hustled him toward the exit.

“BOO.” The crowd started booing and chanting. “Let him go. Let him go.”

Mercedes stumbled back, colliding with a table full of beer bottles. An empty bottle teetered and started to fall over. Lunging forward, she grabbed hold of it.

Crack. Mercedes instinctively ducked at what sounded like gunfire. She narrowly missed being struck by a glass bottle whizzing by her head. The airborne bottle flew forward, whacking an officer in the back of the head.

He spun around, a look of fury on his face. Mercedes, still holding the beer bottle she’d knocked over, carefully set it on the table. It was too late. The cop had noticed the bottle in her hand.

He strode over and grabbed hold of her arm. “You hit me with a beer bottle.”

“I…I didn’t. I swear. I bumped the table and knocked an empty bottle over. I grabbed it before it hit the floor. Next thing I know, I felt something whiz by my head. I ducked, and it hit you instead,” Mercedes explained.

“Did you see her throw the bottle?” the cop asked a man standing only a few feet away.

“No.” He shrugged. “I saw a bottle in her hand and then you got hit.”

“I swear. I didn’t throw a bottle at you,” Mercedes insisted.

“You’re lying.” The cop unhooked his handcuffs and snapped them on her wrists. “You’re under arrest for assaulting a police officer.”