“What do you mean?” I asked. I only had one cup of coffee, and I was barely awake. Sleep had not come easily to someone who had been followed home.
“For example, your phone call to the kennels would not likely be known by someone else. You made the calls, and the only other people who would know are the kennel operators. So scratch that. I’d say it’s more likely that you know something about the disappearance of Tracy Jones and you haven’t processed it correctly yet. Lots of people were there including police and the press. Some of them mentioned that you were on the scene. Something from the house might be a clue that you don’t realize yet.”
I nodded. Mainly because my mouth was full of coffee, but also because he made sense. Whoever was following me knew that I knew something. Land was fine, and he’d been to all the reality show’s meetings and challenges. So it was doubtful that we’d both seen something of importance to the murders and disappearance.
However, the harder I thought about it, the less sure I was of anything. The Tracy Jones disappearance was the only thing I could think of, but the police had been there as well. So I figured that they knew the same things I did—and they were trained to solve mysteries.
I stuffed my hands in my pocket, wishing I could get rid of the feeling of impending doom. Instead I just found the flash drive that I’d used to pull the surveillance videos. I put it back in its place, so I wouldn’t lose it the next time I wanted to find it.
I paused. I ran my mind back over the scene at the Jones’ house yesterday and then a huge piece of the puzzle fell into place. I knew some of what had happened, and I knew that the rest would come soon.
I finished up my morning work without saying much. I didn’t want Land to try to talk me out of my plan. I knew what I was doing involved a certain amount of risk, but I didn’t care. The payoff would be that we’d win the competition, and I’d be well on my way toward winning the publicity that went with it. I passed the hours by thinking about what I’d do with the money.
Danvers didn’t stop by at all, which didn’t surprise me. I’d intentionally showed him up at the Jones’ house, and I thought it had likely annoyed him—at least, I hoped it had. That was my intention.
After I counted the money for the day and finished my part of the cleanup, I grabbed the money bag and started to head out the door. Land watched me get ready and said, “I’m going with you.”
I thought about fighting it, but then decided that it would be fruitless to argue with him. If I told him what I knew, then he’d go with me whether I wanted him there or not. I wanted to do this alone. I thought I’d have a better chance of getting into the places I needed by myself.
I made a dramatic sigh and nodded. “Okay, drop off the truck, get your car and I’ll be here waiting.”
He nodded, remembering that my car was still at the secured lot as well. I couldn’t go far without my car. He drove off smiling—knowing that he’d won a battle. However, as soon as he’d gone, I caught a cab, went to my parents’ house and borrowed a car.
I was back at the Jones’ house in no time. I assumed that since they hadn’t picked up their dog yet that they hadn’t returned home, and I was correct. The house was empty when I pulled into the driveway. There was an odd feeling about the house; its solitude made my nerves jump.
I walked around back and popped the back door open. The tape had been removed and replaced when Detective Danvers and I went into the house, so it wasn’t hard to remove it again. I wasted no time once I was inside. I walked to the smart TV and reached down. Sure enough, a flash drive stuck out of the side of the television. I knew that I wasn’t the only person who had discovered the security footage and made a copy.
Except now I knew that Tracy had used her copies for another purpose. She’d learned who had peed on our pots and pans. She then used that knowledge to keep the pranks at bay. She didn’t want the ugly blot of pranks upon her reputation on the show. Apparently blackmail was fine, but pranks were out of the question.
I slipped out of the building and drove home. My parents helped me get my car from the secured lot. I took my time deciding where I wanted to watch this flash drive. I knew that it had video files on it, even before I took it anywhere or plugged it into any device. It had to.
I finally opted to watch it at my parents’ house. The location seemed acceptable. After all the things that had gone on, I wasn’t ready to watch this flash drive on my own. I needed people around who I knew were on my side.
My folks didn’t have a smart TV, they still watched an older model, but they did have a computer. I plugged the flash drive in and looked at the files. Sure enough, I’d been right. I patted myself on the back for this. I had the makings of a decent detective. There were a number of video files on the flash drive, named in the same manner as the security videos I’d taken from Marsha’s office.
I knew that it was going to be slow going through these videos. I hadn’t bothered to learn the name of the video with the 20 missing minutes on it. I also didn’t know if there was anything else to be learned from the video files. So I’d be watching them all again and probably moving slower through them so as not to overlook anything. I knew the value of these files even if the police had totally missed it.
Sitting in my parents’ house, it was easy to forget last night and how someone had taken the trouble to follow me. I understood now why they thought I might have seen something. If I’d been looking for a flash drive last night, I would have been a threat to them. It had just taken me longer to realize what I’d missed.
I stopped my brain and began watching the videos. They were fairly dull, given that in most screens there were no people and no movement of any kind. I finally gave up and started to fast forward through the videos. There were still several to go through, but at least it moved faster.
Finally, I hit the one that had the delivery of our pots and pans. I recognized it from the early moments. I sped through the video, wondering if the same clip had been removed from this version of the security video. I doubted it. Our version had been sanitized so that no one would be the wiser.
I slowed down when the pots and pans were delivered. Just like in the other video they were set in the main hallway and left. I waited for Marsha to come by with her clipboard. I found the instant where that happened and began watching in earnest.
The video had not been edited. Within a minute of Marsha standing beside the boxes, she fished a cup out of her bag. I couldn’t see the contents from the grainy feed of the video, but I knew what it was. She opened the cup and poured the contents of it into the box. In a matter of seconds, she’d adjusted her shoe, dumped the cup into the trash and moved on.
I sat there in silence. It was exactly what I’d expected. I’d suspected Marsha off and on of being the prankster. She was the most organized person in the studio, and she could easily have found the times and availability of people to know when she could conduct her stunts. As I’d pointed out, the pranks had not interrupted the production of the show in any way. That suggested someone who was dedicated to the show and its goals.
If a contestant had been responsible, the goal would have been to achieve the most publicity. They would want the press and the gossip sites to be aware of what was happening. However, these pranks were easily covered up or could be blamed on the contestant, like the missing ingredients. They didn’t detract from the show at all. They merely added tension and drama to a group of people who were already stressed out.
I knew what happened when there was too much stress. You got drama, which was the lifeblood of any reality show. The pranks had been pulled just to ratchet up the tension and hopefully cause some outbursts that could be played for maximum value. The show wanted more excitement, and this was their way to get it.
I watched the rest of the videos but nothing came of it. I couldn’t find any other scenes regarding the pranks or Marsha committing them. Still, it was enough.
Tracy had used the information she’d obtained. Somehow sh
e’d purloined the video files, and from that, she’d made herself immune to the pranks. Tracy Jones was too perfect to be dragged down into the mud of humiliation or defeat. So she made Marsha ensure that no pranks were played on her.
I also knew two other things about Tracy. First, she was the one who had pulled the dog poop prank. I suspected that after the murders she began to worry that she would be suspected since nothing had happened to her. So she had engineered her own prank, taking her own dog’s mess and putting it in the box. The attempt had been amateurish, and while Tracy might have been a good blackmailer, she was a terrible prankster. When the police began to suspect that she was behind the pranks, she’d packed up the family and left town.
The other thing I knew was that Tracy had not killed Marsha. It takes an odd kind of logic to kill the person who is benefitting you. Tracy had no reason to kill Marsha. She was exempt from pranks and was being given the easiest of challenges. The blackmail certainly explained the cilantro, which was likely a suggestion from Tracy to Marsha. No doubt Tracy had decided that she wanted the easy route to victory, but she’d grown complacent. When her challenge had not shown any stretch for her food truck, she’d been eliminated.
The other thing that I strongly suspected was that the Jones’ home had been trashed by none other than Tracy herself. She’d shown me a glimpse of her bad humor when she slammed the door in my face. If someone was willing to go to the lengths of blackmail because she felt herself above pranks, I couldn’t imagine how she would behave if she was eliminated from the competition.
Actually I could imagine it, since I’d seen the house. The furniture was ripped up and the TV was in pieces. Of course, the television would be destroyed, given that it was the way that she would have watched the reality show. The quick trip had been to placate her and get her away from the source of her anger. I felt sorry suddenly for the perfect family who had such an imperfect matriarch.
I called Land. I knew what I wanted to do, but I needed help, preferably from a man. I wasn’t too proud to admit it. I knew that Danvers would likely try to scrap my plan before he even heard the entire thing. It involved a bit of danger, and I was a woman that he might be interested in. So Land could do the persuading, man to man.
He came over to my parents’ home. My mother cooed over him and offered him large plates of food. He demurred and then listened as I explained what I had found. He raised an eyebrow when he heard what I’d done. “That was pretty brazen of you. Marching into their house and taking the flash drive.”
I shrugged. “I want this over so that we can win the contest and get things back to normal.”
Land ran a finger down my jawline. “I’m not sure I know exactly what normal is with you anymore.”
My mouth dropped open. Was this a proposition on his part, or had he heard about Danvers’ kiss and wanted to one up the detective? Given their rather competitive relationship, I wasn’t sure that I could answer that question. Before I could say a word, Land gave me a smile. “So where do I fit in with this scheme you’re hatching?”
I cleared my throat. “I need you to get Danvers to agree to let me wear a wire and get the killer to confess to murdering Marsha.”
Land laughed out loud. I rarely heard him laugh, so this was a change. I wasn’t pleased with it though, since he was doing it at my expense. “Wow, you don’t ask much. I’ll do what I can. Do you know who the killer is?”
I nodded. “I do, but the trail stops with Marsha. We need to get him to confess,” I said as I went on to tell him everything.
Chapter 14
So it was that I made it to the studio wearing a wire and a nice skirt and top. I’d never done undercover work before, and I wasn’t sure if this was going to be aired anywhere, but after the last several weeks, I knew the value of looking good on camera. I didn’t want to waste this last opportunity to get my name in the papers.
I made my way from the entrance, down the long hall to the executive suite. Marsha’s door was closed today, and I said a little prayer over her empty office. She hadn’t deserved her fate. She was a follower by nature, and she had only been doing what she was told. It seemed terribly unfair to me that someone should be killed for being themselves.
I looked in Jim Jackson’s office, but no one was there. I cursed. I’d really hoped that he would be here today. I’d been counting on it. It was just my luck that he was gone.
I thought about paging him to see where he was, but Johnny Ruck’s voice behind me startled me. “Maeve. How is my favorite little snoop? Have you brought me anything? I want to finish this show before anything else bad happens.”
I turned to face him. “Actually I do have something for you to see.” I pulled the flash drive out of my bra, which seemed to be my new favorite hiding place for it. The skirt and blouse combination really didn’t have the pockets I needed to do my work.
I held up the flash drive. “Can we use your computer?”
He nodded and led the way into his office. He smiled as he let me pass him and insert the flash drive into his computer. The images popped up almost instantaneously, which was how I’d set things up.
He looked at me with iron eyes. The sparkle was gone. In its place was the darkest gray. “What do you want from me? You’re already going to win the competition. What else is there?”
I looked at him. He’d already mentioned the price for our participation in looking into this matter. I knew that we’d never win now. That was one of the items that I’d discussed with Land last night. The chance to win and perhaps get a second truck wasn’t really mine by itself. I had promised him the second truck, and screwing up that deal affected him as much as it did me.
“I was thinking of one of your restaurants. Would that be a good deal? You could run it, and I could reap the profits from it. That’s what you offered Marsha, isn’t it?” In all honesty, I had no idea what he’d offered his assistant, but I wanted to get him talking. I thought that the wrong accusation might do as much as the right one in these circumstances.
He laughed. “You’ve done your homework. You’re a much better investigator than I gave you credit for.” He took a step nearer to me. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea though? Look what happened to Marsha. She met a very ugly end.”
The video of Marsha doing Johnny Ruck’s bidding played on. I watched her walk away from the box of pots and pans. She’d done exactly what he’d told her to do, and this was how she’d been repaid.
“Why did you kill her though? She was doing what you asked.” I wanted to keep him talking, so that Danvers could get as much of this recorded as a confession as possible.
He hadn’t been thrilled with this idea at all, so it was up to me to show him that he was wrong. I had solved the crimes, and I knew how to take care of the matter of evidence. It was now a point of pride that I follow this through and not leave it to someone else to clean up.
“She had enough. She was tired of Tracy’s demands. She was tired of lying. She was going to come clean about her part in the pranks. I couldn’t have that. This whole thing was based on the show getting great ratings and making a profit. Then I could start another line of cookware or add some more restaurants. Possibly do personal appearances.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t you have enough money? Is it always about more with you?” I thought of those women’s lives and how he’d killed them for a restaurant or personal appearance. I was happy with a small apartment and the possibility of a car. I certainly wouldn’t kill anyone for a house or a Beemer.
“It wasn’t about more money. It was about money. I’m nearly broke. My restaurants are doing poorly, and this show was not living up to the hype. You people were dull. You wanted to do your jobs and go home. That’s not what reality TV is supposed to be. It’s supposed to be arguments and drama and upset people. It’s supposed to have love affairs and people you love to hate. My show was all about food. That was it.” He was moving closer to me. I had about two feet between us now. It was still enou
gh room that his arms couldn’t reach me, but I had to back up to keep that distance.
“Then why did you kill Annabella? You had a motive for Marsha, but not for Annabella.” I wanted the whole thing down before Danvers came crashing in. The agreement was that he was outside of the studio itself. He was in an unmarked van with Land and several members of a SWAT team parked near the gates. I knew that it would only take him a few minutes to get here, but I was still worried about how much damage Ruck could do in a few minutes
“She’d overheard Marsha and me talking. She’d heard Marsha announce that she was going to come clean with the network and all of you about the pranks. After that, she made her presence known. Marsha left, and I was stuck cleaning up the situation with Annabella. So I did. I knocked her out and tied her up. Then I went out and found Marsha. I did the same to her.” He was smiling at me now, which was much worse to my mind that if he’d gone on looking angry. The familiar face and the frightening words combined made for a terrifying situation.
“What did you inject them with?” I knew that the coroner was still running tox screens to learn what had been injected into the two women. It was the one point of the murders that Danvers had not been able to clear up.
“Air. It worked with Annabella. The syringe full of air killed her, but Marsha was still breathing, so I took one of my knives and finished the job with both of them. It made for a mess, but I didn’t have to clean it up, so I wasn’t too concerned.” He laughed at his last comment, and I took another step back.
He took a swipe at me, but missed. I jumped back a few steps. I lost my balance and fell. That was the last thing I remembered.
When I awoke, I was trussed up and lying on my side. I wasn’t in Johnny’s office any more. We were in some other part of the building that I didn’t recognize. That didn’t bode well for me. Danvers’ team would be expecting me in the executive suite, where I’d originally confronted Ruck. I wouldn’t be there. So then it would become a grind of going from room to room and office to office in the studio to look for me.
MURDER IN THE SPOTLIGHT (Food Truck Mysteries Book 2) Page 14
