SAVANNAH GONE Read Online Free PDF Page A

her with one of my new map facts. “Did you know the first transcontinental phone call was made from Jekyll Island?”
    Caroline gazed at me with wide-eyed wonder. Well, not exactly. She leaned back, crossed her arms and said, “Have you lost your mind?”
    I shrugged, put the map away, and returned to my beer. I guess some people just aren’t into history.
    We made small talk for a few minutes. The bartender wandered over and dropped off a couple menus. “My name is Jeff,” he said to us. “I’ll be taking care of you today.” He took Caroline’s drink order, a glass of sweet tea, then made his way toward the other end of the bar.
    Caroline leaned toward me and lowered her voice. “I’ve got the missing persons report in the car. I asked a few questions for you too. We’re trying to track Claire’s cell phone location.”
    I took a sip of my beer. “Thanks for grabbing it, Caroline. I owe you.”
    “I looked it over Fontaine, and it’s pretty thin. You realize it was filed late yesterday, don’t you?”
    I nodded. “Might turn out to be useful to me though. I still haven’t met her parents.”
    Caroline looked surprised. “No? Who hired you then?”
    “Some old codger named Edward Cavanaugh. He’s got an outfit called Coastal Capital.” I popped a pretzel into my mouth. “Know him?”
    “He’s not just some old codger Fontaine. He’s one of the wealthiest men in Savannah, probably in the entire state. Ever heard of a family office?”
    Actually, I knew what a family office was even before Cavanaugh’s spiel this morning. But I played along and said, “Isn’t that a TV show?”
    She laughed. “A family office manages the money of the super wealthy. If I’m not mistaken, John D. Rockefeller was the first to set one up to handle his vast fortune.” She looked at me and said, “Oprah uses one.”
    “Oprah huh?” I chomped another pretzel.
    “I read that in Forbes a couple months ago.”
    “Forbes, my ass. You read that in People magazine.”
    Caroline laughed again. “What’s Cavanaugh connection?”
    “Claire’s father is one of his clients.”
    “That means he’s got money. What’s he do for a living?”
    “Heart surgeon. He and his wife are driving down from Charleston. I’m meeting ‘em this afternoon at Claire’s townhouse.” I left out the part about hanging up on him.
    “Mind if we order?” she asked, laying her menu on the bar. “I need to get back to work.”
    The bartender glanced our way. “Hey Steve,” I called out. “I think we’re ready to order.”
    “His name’s Jeff,” Caroline said, elbowing me in the ribs.
    “Used to be Steve,” I replied. “Witness protection program.”
    She rolled her eyes and said to the bartender, “I’ll have a cup of French onion soup and a Caesar salad. And please don’t mind my friend. He’s been hit on the head more times than I can count.”
    I looked at Jeff, or Steve, or whatever the hell his name was. “I’ll have the fish tacos with a side of fries.”
    After he left to turn in our order, Caroline asked, “Why do I put up with you?”
    “Because my wit is razor sharp, and you find me sexy and irresistible.” I added, “Plus I buy you lunch.”
    “You’re a moderately attractive imbecile, and quite easy to resist.”
    “Must be my dancing then.”
    “You’re giving me a headache.” She shifted in her seat and crossed her legs. “Here’s a freebie for you. Make sure you check Claire’s Facebook page.”
    I shook my head and groaned.
    The entire self-absorbed, social media thing baffles me. It’s like a never-ending nightmare scenario of looking at your neighbors boring vacation photos. Who cares? I just don’t understand the need to share every minute detail of my life. I don’t like to share anything.
    “Climb down off your stegosaurus,” Caroline said. “It’s the twenty-first century. Claire might’ve posted a clue about what’s going on in her life that could help you find