I had some ideas start to spring in my head about the matter. “Which way were the messages flowing?” I asked. “I mean, were the bags of frozen lamb intended for the person on this side, who we think was Janelle, or was the information being sent back to the people on the other side, the ones that we don’t know yet?”
Land eyed me. “That’s a good question. Danvers hasn’t talked to me about this, but I’d think that the information would have to be coming from Janelle and going to the insurgents.”
“But how would it work?”
Land cleared his throat. Then he walked back up to the food truck window and asked Carter for two coffees. He told him that we’d be gone a few minutes and handed me a coffee. He led me toward the original food truck as if to make it look like this was every day truck business instead of speculation on the flow of inside information regarding North Africa.
“The information would have to come through Janelle. She would cut open a bag of lamb and tape the information inside of the bag. I’ve tried it and it’s not too difficult once you get the hang of it. It takes 2-3 minutes to complete.”
“Okay, but how does that information get to the other side? People typically throw away used meat bags. They don’t save them and mail them off for fun.”
Land nodded. “I’m guessing that either someone is coming along after hours and picking through the trash, or the garbage men are involved with the plot. Either way, someone is getting the information from the trash in what looks like a pretty ordinary maneuver.”
“Okay, so far so good, but what about the flash drive?” I couldn’t still make all the pieces fit.
“My personal opinion is that someone was trying to make Jeremy Nolan the fall guy for this investigation. No one with half a brain would put their name on a flash drive that contained intelligence information being sent to another country. This was planned too well for me to believe that our big break is a flash drive that’s been conveniently monogramed by the man behind it.”
We had arrived at Dogs on the Roll. I unlocked the door and stuck my head in to make sure no one was waiting for us. I wasn’t as trusting of locks and keys these days. They apparently didn’t keep out killers and spies.
“So someone set him up, but who?” I asked, now that we were officially alone. I took a deep drink of the coffee. I was done for the day, but I still needed some energy.
Land shrugged. “Obviously someone in the family, or who is close to the family, but we don’t know who. If Danvers knows anything, he’s not telling.”
Chapter 15
I had gone home still puzzling about the missing camera. Things did not disappear randomly, just as flash drives with names on them did not magically appear in the same shipment. Someone had taken the camera for a reason, if only to sell it.
A quick call to Janelle’s uncle had got me the name and model of the camera. I went out that evening and picked up another camera. It hadn’t been all that expensive, and I wanted to see what was so important about it that someone had felt compelled to steal it.
I decided to wait again until after my shift was over to look into the matter. My body was practically humming with excitement as I went about my normal duties. I felt that I was on the right track. I wasn’t sure where I was going, but I felt I was heading there.
My shift ended, and I closed up the truck. I had been used to three people working at cleanup, and now I was doing it by myself. The work took much longer than it had before, and I didn’t get to the other food truck until nearly three o’clock.
I showed Land the device and asked for his opinion. “No idea. It looks pretty standard to me. Why don’t you try it out and see if you notice anything strange?”
So I spent the next half-hour trying to use it. The unit had two components. The first was the piece that worked like a camera phone, taking in what was in the lens perspective behind the vehicle. The other half, which was in the truck, showed the driver what the lens saw. I tried to get the camera to look at the closest trash receptacles, but that would have placed the camera in an awkward corner of the truck, near the top of the truck itself.
I was thinking of what to try next when I looked at the screen and saw Carter mugging for the camera. He put it very close to his nose, and then his ear, and then he only showed me the top of his head while he hummed the music from Jaws. There was definitely a maturity gap between Carter and me.
While I was trying to think of how to chastise Carter, I got an idea. I set the screen on the dash to try to figure it out. I wondered about a few things, but it made sense. I would have to experiment for a few minutes, but I think I’d answered a small part of the riddle of Janelle’s death.
I grabbed a squirt bottle of mustard and took the stepstool from inside the truck. I went back for the video screen, and I was about ready. Land looked at me with intense curiosity. “You’ve figured something out,” he said.
I nodded. “Give me a few minutes to see if this works, and we may have some answers in this case.”
I shouted into the food truck. “Carter, put the camera on the counter and move to the middle of the truck.”
He did as he was told. I knew that because I was watching him via the backup camera. It showed the entire inside of the food truck from that particular angle.
I took the mustard bottle, slid it gently through the holes near the top, and aligned it to where I thought he was based on the camera. I could actually see the nozzle of the mustard bottle on the video screen. It was eerie for me to see myself in that fashion.
Carter still had no idea what was going on, though Land had figured it out and had walked around to the window to watch the show. With my vantage point, I could see where Carter was and where I was. Aiming as best as I could, I squeezed the bottle. A large yellow stain appeared on his shirt.
“Hey, what the—” Carter shouted as he realized what happened. Then he realized what had happened.
Land walked back around to where I was and held out a hand. He took the mustard bottle and repeated my maneuver. His aim was far more accurate, and he nailed Carter in the back of the head.
Carter sputtered, but before he could articulate anything, Land shouted. “Close the serving window—now.” Carter did what he was told without thinking. “Now lock it,” Land shouted through the metal now blocking the view.
Carter shouted back that he’d done it. Land pulled the window out as hard as he could and threw the mustard container in through the opening. I could hear it hit the floor with a thud.
“And that is how you do that,” I said, giving him a smile.
“Not bad at all,” he replied. “But there is one more problem. We’ve figured out how it was done, but not who did it. That’s still a huge question mark in this case.”
I held my hand out for a high-five, and he provided one. “Even so, now they won’t call it a suicide or accident. It’s a real live murder case.”
We were still talking when Danvers came down to the food truck at a trot. “What’s going on down here?” he demanded.
A realization hit me. He was having this food truck bugged somehow. There was no way that he could have heard Carter’s scream or the celebration we were having without knowing exactly what was happening here.
I tried to think of how this could be. I’d done a fairly thorough search when looking for the video camera yesterday. I’d found nothing that looked like a recording device then. Had they recently installed it, or was I missing something?
Danvers looked at me, seeing that I was firing on all cylinders. He didn’t want to say anything, knowing that I’d piece the puzzle together faster if he incriminated himself in any way.
I looked at our newest hire. “Carter, I’m really sorry about your shirt. I think Land has another here somewhere. I’ll get it and you can change.”
My guess had hit the mark. Danvers’ eyes had grown wide at my suggestion. However, I didn’t stop with just knowing I was right. I got one of the shirts out of truck and threw it at Carter. We
all stood there as he stared at the shirt in his hand.
Danvers finally said, “You might as well go ahead and change.”
Carter stripped off the mustard-stained shirt. While I would have given him something else to wear since I’d nailed him with the mustard fake gunshot, I wouldn’t have insisted on the public change of clothes. However, given that Danvers had just told my employee what to do, I was fairly certain that I was right.
Carter slipped off his apron, which I’d now have to wash. Then he pulled off the t-shirt that he’d been wearing, some indie band from the 90s. Sure enough, my new help was wired for sound. He had a small unit at the small of his back and a few wires running up his chest. I’d managed to hit some of the wires with the mustard blast, and apparently the feedback and screaming from Carter had led to Danvers coming on the run.
“Care to explain?” I asked Danvers. “Is my new cook actually a police officer or did you just corrupt someone off the streets?”
Carter spoke up. “I’m really a cook. I was approached by the police to wear a wire on the new food truck. They made me a great offer, and I need the money to help out my mom. There was no way I could say no to that.” He wasn’t looking at me, but down at the floor. I cursed myself, wondering now if I could trust this guy with the truck. He had violated my trust, but not done any damage to the truck or the business. He’d just been a conduit of information to the police.
I turned to Danvers. “So you think that you need to spy on me to keep track of what I’m doing?”
Danvers had the good graces to look uncomfortable. “It was one of the provisos about letting you have the truck out of the evidence room. We needed to have access to the truck full-time, in case anything happened.”
“One that you chose not to tell me,” I pointed out.
“Would you have taken the truck under those rules?” he asked.
I paused. I wasn’t sure if I would have or not. On the one hand, the truck had been tremendously profitable so far and had shown no signs of slowing down. On the other hand, I felt like a five year old who was too immature to be trusted with the adult toys and had to be monitored full-time. “I don’t know, but it would have been my decision,” I pointed out to him. “It would be nice if I got a say-so in what happens to me and my business.”
Land, who had been watching with some amusement, spoke, “Maeve figured out how the killer managed the murder using the gun with the ventilation holes and camera.” He provided a quick demonstration of the technique. Given the laidback attitude that he was displaying, I suspected that Land had either known or strongly suspected that the police were listening in on us.
I tried to remember if I’d said anything about Danvers while we were in the truck. I couldn’t remember for sure, but at the moment, I hoped that it was something extremely harsh. I wanted him to suffer a little as well.
“It still doesn’t mean that you’ve solved the case,” Danvers pointed out. I wasn’t sure what he wanted at this point, but I was tired of the constant demands and accusations. As far as I could tell, he’d kept one of my employees out too late working on surveillance that had turned up nothing and the other had been transformed into a giant microphone. Yet for all his work, I’d determined how the crime was committed.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I will.”
I walked off without saying a word to any of them. The decision about Carter would wait for another day, and it wouldn’t do any harm to make him worry about his fate. I had plans for this afternoon, but it wasn’t surveillance.
I’d had another idea while Detective Danvers had been yelling. Perhaps he and Land never had any success with their surveillance, because they were looking at the wrong place. Everyone had suggested that Janelle was not the type to spy and pass on information. She’d been immature and spiteful, but never disloyal to this country. She’d barely even visited Morocco, where her family came from.
What if she’d only been a diversion? What if the real espionage ring used her idea of a food truck to pass information without her knowledge? I had a few questions for Jeremy about his flash drive, and I decided to head over there now. I’d always found that a surprise visit was much more likely to get results than watching the person’s home for hours on end.
I headed over to Jeremy’s apartment. I hoped that he was home, but I’d soon find out. I pulled into his parking lot and walked into the entryway. I was impressed. There was no parking the car just outside the door. There was no chance of people knocking you over and taking your things without waiting for the elevator.
I walked up to the second floor and rang the bell to his apartment. I heard voices inside, so I knew that he was home—though perhaps not alone. I waited as I determined that he was looking through the front door’s peephole at me.
I rang the doorbell again. Finally, Jeremy opened the door a few inches and stuck his head out. He looked rather flushed, and his hair was rumpled. I wondered if he had been sleeping. “What do you want? I’m busy,” he said without preamble.
“I need to know more about how someone could have gotten that flash drive from you. I was hoping you could help me with that.”
He rolled his eyes at me. “I explained all of that to the police. My parents have keys to the apartment. They would have gladly given them to Janelle if she’d asked. She could have taken one without my knowledge.”
“You wouldn’t have noticed it missing?” I asked, thinking that I had a single flash drive which I used as a back-up system for the truck’s financials.
“No, I have a whole bowl of them over there.” He pointed with the arm that wasn’t holding the door. When he did that, the door opened wider and I saw Sam standing in the living room—shirtless.
This must be my day for seeing men without their shirts, I thought. And, in each situation, I couldn’t admire their bodies because of the awkwardness of what I’d just discovered.
I suddenly understood many of the unexplained loose ends in this case. Janelle and Sam had broken up most likely because either Sam had told her he was gay or she’d learned by accident like I did. Sam hadn’t called me back because he was already dating someone. And Jeremy’s secrets dealt with affection, not espionage.
Sam finally stepped forward and said, “You might as well let her in Jeremy. She’s already got it figured out.”
Jeremy stepped back and allowed me to enter. The apartment was spacious with beautiful appliances and carpeting throughout. The mere thought of living in a place like this made me want to go back and sell more Basque food.
“Sorry that I haven’t called you,” Sam said as an opening.
I raised an eyebrow. “I can see you’ve been busy.”
He laughed nervously. “Yeah, kinda. It’s just that my parents don’t know, and Jeremy’s parents don’t know. I don’t know how either set would take the news, so we don’t tell them; just another set of secrets between parents and children. It’s a generational thing.”
Sam continued to tell me how they’d met, and how he’d left Janelle to start dating Jeremy secretly. Janelle had suspected something was up, but she’d never been able to prove anything.
I’d stopped paying attention to the conversation for the most part. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about these two men who were concerned about their lives and their futures. I liked both of them and thought that they deserved happiness like everyone else.
However, Sam had said something that made me stop in my tracks. I kept replaying the words in my head, thinking about what they meant—and I kept coming back to one solution. It wasn’t a pretty one. It was one that made me slightly sick to my stomach, but it was the only one that made sense.
I spent a few more minutes with Jeremy and Sam and then left. I wanted backup for what I was about to do. I had been in too many ugly situations to go barnstorming into the denouement without a guardian angel to watch over me.
I called Land, but I couldn’t get an answer from him. I wasn’t surprised by that. Work hours were over, and h
e was likely enjoying his longer evenings. I had a pang of envy, I would have loved a few evenings free, but that wasn’t in the cards yet.
After that I paused, I wanted to get this over with quickly. My fear was that if I waited longer, then the killer would try to do something to harm the truck—or us. I had sunk a great deal of money into that food truck and the thought of it being taken as evidence for a trial made me nervous. Today I’d been given glimpse of what a real apartment and evenings off looked like. While I didn’t mind the hard work to get to where I wanted to be, these luxuries were now being dangled in front of me.
So I could call either Detective Danvers or Carter. Danvers would be the safer choice. He’d be armed and ready to arrest the perpetrator. Carter was neither of those things. However, he was directly linked to the police via the recording devices he wore. That seemed like the better of two choices here. Danvers likely would have had to have gotten a warrant that included recording our conversations plus whatever conversations were heard in the background. That should be enough to get him the arrest he dearly wanted.
I called Carter, who stammered as he answered the phone. I think that he was expecting to be fired on the spot, but instead I told him to wear his police gear and meet me at my apartment as soon as he could. He agreed.
Thirty minutes later, he was there, wearing a baggy shirt that hid the recording equipment and, what I recalled, was a very nice body. Sometime when I wasn’t solving crimes, I was going to have to just enjoy all the torsos I’d seen today. I felt a little out of shape compared to all the buff men who worked around me.
“So what’s the plan?” Carter asked.
“I’m going to confront the killer about the crime. I’m going to lay out all of the information and hopefully they’ll respond.”
Carter puckered up his lips. “Does that work? I mean, anywhere other than in TV movies?”
“It could. This was a very personal crime, and I think that I have a good chance of making them feel like they need to explain their actions.” I honestly didn’t have much of a plan, but I was going to wing it as best as I could.
THE REAL GYRO (Food Truck Mysteries Book 4) Page 14
