Page 52
Story: Shakedown in Savannah
He placed the jars in a plastic bag and then began going over every square inch of the space with his metal detector. Multiple times it went off. Each time he would stop, scoop up the item and place it on a clean white towel.
Curious to find out what he had found, Carlita tiptoed over. Bowls. Long rusty nails. What appeared to be part of a metal brace. Several coins.
An hour passed, and Carlita could see her husband was growing impatient. Finally, he asked how much longer it would take.
“Only a few more minutes. I’m almost done.”
After finishing, the men gathered up Poindexter’s equipment, the towel with what the detector had found, and made their way out.
Carlita hadn’t noticed it before, but the man was sweating profusely. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I experience hyperhidrosis when I get excited.”
“Hyperhidrosis?”
“Excessive sweating.” He pulled a cloth kerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his forehead. “It will take me several days to have the findings analyzed. I’ll be in touch.”
Pete reached for the second duffel bag. “Based on what you saw today, what do you think was in there?”
“One of the most exciting finds we’ve had in decades,” he said. “Your restaurant, a historical site, sits on top of a second historical site. I would bet my life on it.”
Chapter 21
Roar…Rooarrr.
Dernice expertly steered her custom chrome Harley into the parking spot directly in front of Spiffy Clean Dry-Cleaning and Laundromat and kicked the kickstand down. Unstrapping her helmet, she tucked it under her arm and sauntered toward the front entrance door.
Stepping inside, she noticed the smell of bleach mingled with laundry detergent hung heavy in the air. Looking right to left, Dernice searched for June Cleary, the owner. A man, in his twenties, if she had to guess, watched her make her way to the back.
A woman sat next to a dryer; her legs crossed and her nose stuck in a magazine. She barely gave Dernice a glance.
Near the corner, she found the dry-cleaning drop off. Seated at the small desk, magnifying glass in hand, sat June Cleary, working on a crossword puzzle.
Dernice cleared her throat.
June looked up. “Hello.”
“Hello. June?”
“Yes.” She set the magnifying glass down and pushed her chair back. “Can I help you?”
“I was in here some time ago. I’m not sure if you remember me.”
June’s eyes widened behind her wire-rimmed glasses. “Why yes. I remember you. You’re the woman who owns the Harley. I gave you a discount on cleaning your leather jacket and you took me out for a spin on that sweet ride of yours. And you had the most unusual name.”
“Dernice Cobb.”
June made her way to the counter. “Dernice. Do you need your jacket cleaned again?”
“No. My jacket is fine. The leather satchel on my bike has some spots. I was wondering if you could take a look at them to see if you think they’ll come out.”
“Oh. Absolutely.” Moving at a quick clip for a woman who wasn’t a day under ninety, June followed Dernice out of the building and to her Harley parked out front.
“It’s on this side. I think it’s bug splat.”
June pressed on the center of her glasses and examined the splotches. “I’ll have to be honest. I’m not sure these will come out. Bug guts are tricky, especially if I don’t know what kind of bug it was. If I were you, I would try wiping the spots with very warm water. Not too hard, mind you.”
“Thank you. I will. You did such a great job on my jacket, I knew you would be able to help,” Dernice said.
Curious to find out what he had found, Carlita tiptoed over. Bowls. Long rusty nails. What appeared to be part of a metal brace. Several coins.
An hour passed, and Carlita could see her husband was growing impatient. Finally, he asked how much longer it would take.
“Only a few more minutes. I’m almost done.”
After finishing, the men gathered up Poindexter’s equipment, the towel with what the detector had found, and made their way out.
Carlita hadn’t noticed it before, but the man was sweating profusely. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I experience hyperhidrosis when I get excited.”
“Hyperhidrosis?”
“Excessive sweating.” He pulled a cloth kerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his forehead. “It will take me several days to have the findings analyzed. I’ll be in touch.”
Pete reached for the second duffel bag. “Based on what you saw today, what do you think was in there?”
“One of the most exciting finds we’ve had in decades,” he said. “Your restaurant, a historical site, sits on top of a second historical site. I would bet my life on it.”
Chapter 21
Roar…Rooarrr.
Dernice expertly steered her custom chrome Harley into the parking spot directly in front of Spiffy Clean Dry-Cleaning and Laundromat and kicked the kickstand down. Unstrapping her helmet, she tucked it under her arm and sauntered toward the front entrance door.
Stepping inside, she noticed the smell of bleach mingled with laundry detergent hung heavy in the air. Looking right to left, Dernice searched for June Cleary, the owner. A man, in his twenties, if she had to guess, watched her make her way to the back.
A woman sat next to a dryer; her legs crossed and her nose stuck in a magazine. She barely gave Dernice a glance.
Near the corner, she found the dry-cleaning drop off. Seated at the small desk, magnifying glass in hand, sat June Cleary, working on a crossword puzzle.
Dernice cleared her throat.
June looked up. “Hello.”
“Hello. June?”
“Yes.” She set the magnifying glass down and pushed her chair back. “Can I help you?”
“I was in here some time ago. I’m not sure if you remember me.”
June’s eyes widened behind her wire-rimmed glasses. “Why yes. I remember you. You’re the woman who owns the Harley. I gave you a discount on cleaning your leather jacket and you took me out for a spin on that sweet ride of yours. And you had the most unusual name.”
“Dernice Cobb.”
June made her way to the counter. “Dernice. Do you need your jacket cleaned again?”
“No. My jacket is fine. The leather satchel on my bike has some spots. I was wondering if you could take a look at them to see if you think they’ll come out.”
“Oh. Absolutely.” Moving at a quick clip for a woman who wasn’t a day under ninety, June followed Dernice out of the building and to her Harley parked out front.
“It’s on this side. I think it’s bug splat.”
June pressed on the center of her glasses and examined the splotches. “I’ll have to be honest. I’m not sure these will come out. Bug guts are tricky, especially if I don’t know what kind of bug it was. If I were you, I would try wiping the spots with very warm water. Not too hard, mind you.”
“Thank you. I will. You did such a great job on my jacket, I knew you would be able to help,” Dernice said.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81