Chapter 7

Tony escorted Costanza and Lorenzo out of the restaurant and locked the door behind them. He returned to where his mother and sister stood. The look on his face said it all. "This ain't good."

"It's awful." Carlita's hand trembled as she studied the paper. "He wants five hundred thousand PLUS taxes paid, which is another hundred, if this is accurate. What are we gonna do? I can't get a legitimate loan in this short of an amount of time."

"We still have a little cash from the gems," Mercedes said. "We also have the money from our share of the Marshland Isles Diamond."

"We could pay up. It would take everything we have, but I can get it all together and pay them off."

While Carlita talked, Tony wandered to the window, staring out.

"What is it, Son?"

"I'm almost a hundred percent certain if we come up with the cash, Lombardo is gonna change his mind and not accept it."

"But his henchmen said he wanted his money. Adding taxes, principal and interest, I figure six hundred thousand and they're gone."

"Unfortunately, this isn't how these kinds of people work. I guess I could be wrong. Lombardo has kept quiet and held onto this property for a reason."

"To accumulate a ridiculous amount of interest," Carlita said.

"I dunno, Ma. I say we work on getting the money, but my gut is telling me this isn't the end, especially when they kept mentioning personal protection."

"I'm still waiting on a call from Vinnie." Carlita told them she would run down to the bank and start working on getting the cash.

"Most banks don't have substantial sums of money on hand. I'm almost certain you'll have to wait," Tony said. "It's also gonna trigger a notification to the IRS and other federal regulatory commissions."

"Seriously?" Carlita grimaced. "Great. All I need is to put our businesses on the IRS's radar."

"Which could be the least of our worries," Mercedes said. "We need to check this place out. What's the address?"

Carlita rattled it off.

"I gotta get over to the pawn shop. Here's the plan. Ma, you get the ball rolling to get the now six hundred thousand dollars. I'll find someone to cover for me and then this afternoon we can go check out the place."

"For all we know, it could be an empty field, although they did say something about it being in rough condition." Carlita's cell phone chimed. It was a text from Vinnie.

I'm still working on figuring out who Danny Lombardo is. How did the meeting go?

Not good. Lombardo now wants six hundred thousand in twenty-four hours. Carlita finished tapping out a reply text, telling him about the alternative to making payments.

Moments later, her phone rang. It was Vinnie.

"This sounds like a straight up racket. I'm still workin' on it on my end. All I can say is they must be new to the area."

"New to the mafia business?" she asked.

"Nope. New to the States. Could be another outfit all together. Are you sure these two are legit?"

"Not yet. We need to find out."

Vinnie promised he would have something soon and hung up.

Carlita waved her phone in the air. "Vinnie should have something soon. I'm heading to the bank."

"Before we pay them a red cent, we need to do some serious digging around," Tony said. "We're gonna be sure Pops entered into this and owes before we do anything."

"Still, to err on the side of assuming, once again, your father left us in a mess, I'll put the wheels in motion to come up with the money."

With a plan in place, the trio split up. Mercedes, who needed to cover her early lunch shift, and Tony to rearrange his schedule. Meanwhile, Carlita ran back home to go over her bank accounts and make sure she had the cash available.

It took more than a little finagling and paying a penalty for removing money from several CDs she'd invested in some months back. She hated the idea of being penalized and losing out on the interest, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Carlita finally had her financial ducks in a row and drove down to the bank. As soon as the teller found out what she was trying to do, she escorted her to the manager's office in the back.

A woman in her fifties, if Carlita had to guess, waited for her to be seated. "Your withdrawal request is for a substantial amount of money. Has someone asked you to send them money over the internet, perhaps a family member who called and is claiming to be in trouble?"

"Oh no." Carlita's eyes widened. "My deceased husband owned a property. He borrowed the money and now the lender is demanding repayment."

"I am sorry for your loss." The manager pressed a hand to her chest.

"Thank you. He died almost five years ago."

The woman's jaw dropped. "And the lender is only now asking for repayment?"

"It's a long story," Carlita muttered. "The bottom line is I need six hundred thousand dollars within the next twenty-four hours."

"It will be nearly impossible for us to get this amount that quickly." She suggested initiating a wire transfer. "A wire transfer is the safest way to move large sums of money."

"I'm not sure Mr. Lombardo is open to this."

"If you don't mind me asking, what sort of business deal was your husband involved in?"

"Unfortunately, a terrible one."

The woman reached for her mouse. "I'll get the process started, but please be sure you're not being tricked into paying a debt you don't owe."

"I assure you I won't."

The process was tedious and confusing. By the time Carlita left the bank, she wanted nothing more than to grab Rambo and take a long walk. First things first. Back home, she tracked Pete down in his office and filled him in on what had transpired.

He wholeheartedly agreed with the consensus. The very first thing they needed to do was to make sure the claim was legit. And if so, to pay it ASAP. "What time are you heading over there to look around?"

"At three, after Mercedes' shift ends. Rambo and I are gonna get some fresh air."

"Do you want me to go with you?"

Carlita smiled, her heart doing a small flip-flop when their eyes met. "Thank you for the offer. I'm all right. To be honest, there are times I still can't believe Vinnie left me with piles of problems."

"Because he didn't plan on dying." Pete ran a light hand across her cheek. "Even more than the messes, you're disappointed."

Sudden tears welled up in her eyes, and she nodded. Her husband had hit the nail on the head. After decades of marriage, not to mention raising four wonderful children together, Vinnie hadn't trusted her enough to tell her about Savannah. She'd been completely in the dark.

Granted, it was the mafia culture. Never involve the wives in a man's world. Still, it didn't excuse him from what could have, should have, been an honest, open marriage. But because of his wheeling and dealing, Carlita was still , after all these years, cleaning up messes he'd left behind. Not only for her, but for their children too.

Hopefully, this was the last of it. Only time would tell.

Pete pulled her into his arms.

Carlita closed her eyes, thanking God for giving her such a wonderful, thoughtful, loving husband. And honest. There were no secrets between them. No business dealings she didn't know about.

She snuggled closer. "I love you, Pete Taylor."

"And I love you more, Carlita Taylor."

Feeling better after talking it over and knowing Pete agreed, she and Rambo headed out. They took their usual route down by the river before turning around and meandering back toward her properties.

They passed by Cricket Tidwell's bookstore, Colby's Corner Store, and finally Steve Winter's tattoo shop. The lights were off. At first Carlita thought the place was closed until she saw movement near the cash register.

It was Steve. Carlita waved.

He waved back and hurried to the door. "Hey, Carlita. How's it going?"

"Unfortunately, I've had better days. How about you?"

"Same here. Things are a little slow right now. Actually, they're really slow."

"I noticed your lights were off. Did you turn them off to save electricity?" Carlita had meant it as a joke until she saw the look on his face. "Things must be really slow."

"They are. I've never seen it like this. I guess tats are a luxury item a lot of my regular customers can no longer afford."

"Because they need to spend what money they have on food and putting gas in their cars." Carlita switched Rambo's leash to her other hand. "I'm sorry to hear it."

"Hopefully, it won't last long." They made small talk until Steve's cell phone rang and he excused himself.

She and Rambo kept going and noticed her friend, Annie Dowton's car was parked in front of Riverfront Real Estate's office. Annie, who was a whiz at local real estate, would be the perfect person to ask about the property.

Carlita had left the papers in her purse, which was home, but had already memorized the property address.

Annie's robot Tinker rolled over as soon as she and Rambo stepped inside. "Welcome to Riverfront Real Estate," he politely greeted them in his robotic voice.

Rambo, unsure of what to think, barked loudly.

"We are glad you are here," Tinker continued. "Please, follow me."

The robot twirled around and rolled toward Annie, who was seated behind her desk, grinning from ear to ear.

Rambo continued barking, staying close to Carlita's side.

"Look at Tinker." Carlita laughed. "You put him to work. How cute."

"Clients love him. He has a whole new vocabulary."

Woof. Woof.

"Rambo." She patted her pup's head. "It's okay. Tinker won't hurt you."

Annie tapped her keyboard. Tinker turned again, gliding toward Rambo.

He jumped back, his ears flat, warily eyeing the robot.

Tinker's hand extended. In it were doggie treats. "These are for you."

Rambo pressed even tighter against Carlita's leg.

"Tinker has a treat for you."

Rambo refused to budge.

She took a treat and fed it to the pup, who promptly inhaled it. "Tinker has two more. Go get them."

Rambo crept forward, never taking his eyes off the robot. Meanwhile, Tinker stood still, hand extended, the treats still in his palm.

In the blink of an eye, Rambo lunged forward and gobbled them up. "Tell Tinker thank you."

The pup pranced from side to side.

"Rambo says thank you, Tinker."

"You are welcome." The robot's hand retracted. He rolled around and glided toward the desk.

The dog, no longer afraid, trotted after him, eager for more treats.

"That is cool," Carlita said. "A robot in real estate."

"We've been working on teaching him new tricks for a while now. I recently added the pet treats. Clients stop by with their pets just to get a treat."

Rambo spotted Annie behind the desk and trotted over.

"There's my buddy." She fluffed his ears. "It's been a while since I've seen you."

"We've been busy," Carlita said. "Do you have a minute?"

"Of course. Have a seat."

Carlita settled into an empty chair. "I have a smallish problem."

"Smallish?" Annie laughed. "When have you ever had smallish problems?"

"You're right. Let me rephrase my statement. I might have a potentially biggish problem." Without going into too much detail, Carlita outlined her current dilemma.

"How awful."

"I need to do my due diligence first, but if true, it appears I might owe this Danny Lombardo guy a hefty chunk of change."

"You said the property is here in Savannah?"

"Yep." Carlita rattled off the address. "8807 Morton Street."

"Let's see what we have." Annie got to work, logging onto the local real estate website. With a few clicks, she announced she had tracked down the property. "This is interesting."

"Let me guess. The men lied. The taxes haven't been paid and the city now owns the property."

"No. The taxes have been paid. I've been a real estate agent for many years, but I have to be honest. I've only seen this a couple of times before," Annie said.