FOOD TRUCK MYSTERIES: The Complete Series (14 Books)

by Chloe Kendrick

  I took a deep breath. I was glad to be excluded from suspicion, though I didn’t like the way in which I was so quickly thought to be less than competent in the methods of killing. Even so, I counted this as a win.

  Another tech came up, shot a glance to Land and me, and then leaned in to tell Danvers something. The tech walked away, and Danvers didn’t speak. “If you don’t need me, I’m going to make sure that no one steals the food truck,” I said to no one in particular.

  Neither man bothered to stop me, but I heard them talking as I left. Danvers was complaining that another case would cut into the time he had to prepare for the big trial that was coming up. Apparently he was a witness in a mob case, and he had to be perfect in his delivery. Other people being murdered got in the way of his performance.

  I remembered what Land had told me before. Danvers tended to put his own career first. I doubted that he was as worried about the mob guy getting off as he was about how well he played to the camera.

  I walked back to the truck, entered through the door instead of the window, and closed the window. I didn’t want any more business today. Any clients that stopped by the food truck would be more interested in the killing than the cuisine. I wanted to complete the daily cleanup and head home. I had the good sense to realize that I was over my head with snipers and rifles with names. I preferred a nice easy poisoning or a bop on the head. Even the beheading looked good compared to the faceless death that came from over fifty yards away. At least you could see the end coming with a knife.

  I was about halfway finished with counting the money when Land returned. I was glad, because I didn’t feel like doing his work as well. He started cleaning. After a few seconds he said, “Danvers dispatched a patrol car over to Mariel Mills’ house. I’m guessing that they’ll find she’s been killed.”

  I furrowed my brows. “You seem pretty certain of that.” I had just assumed that she’d chickened out.

  Land didn’t look up, but just kept cleaning. “If you’re coming to meet someone and you’re pretending to be someone else, then you need to make damned sure that the real person won’t show up in the middle of things and muck it up. You can restrain them, tie them up, or you can kill them.” Land seemed to be comfortable talking like this, but it bothered me to think that this family had so much loss. First Linda and now her sister. The poor parents had lost two children. The rest of the family had disappeared, and no one seemed to know exactly where they were.

  “What did she hope to gain by meeting with me? I can’t think of any reason why I’d be important enough to kill someone.” If she’s known her information would be vital, I imagined that she’d bundled it up in a letter that would be sent to the police in case something happened to her. I wondered if people did that in real life, but it seemed handy for the circumstances. Mariel had something of interest, and now she was dead. How could she have prevented her own death?

  Land shrugged. “She wasn’t carrying a gun or a knife, so she wasn’t coming to kill you. That’s a good sign. So she must just have wanted to talk.”

  My mouth dropped open. “In what world is it a good sign if they’re not here to kill you? A good sign would be that she was carrying a check for a large sum in her purse.” I stuffed the cash in the deposit bag and started helping with the cleanup of the food prep areas.

  Land watched me as I started putting unused vegetables in the refrigerator and wiping down surfaces. “I think you’ve stepped into something where you’re way over your head. You need to be careful.”

  I felt my cheeks burn. I knew I was getting angry. “I think I’ve done pretty well for myself. I’ve solved multiple murders and explained cases that stumped the police. And I’m still here.”

  Land took a deep breath. “This case is not like those murders. This one is different. You could have easily been killed. The sniper could have moved his aim a few feet to the right and shot you before you even knew what happened. You can’t protect yourself against that. You could have been picked off any time during the morning shift if he’d wanted you dead. You’re not used to that type of security and caution.”

  I turned to face him. “You certainly seem to know a lot about it though. Care to enlighten me?”

  I could actually see his lips clamp into a thin line, which didn’t open for a few minutes. He had his lips pressed so tightly that the lips turned white. The silence was broken by a knock at the door. Danvers identified himself before Land opened the door.

  “The patrol car reported back. The house is locked up. No sign of a break-in or any violence inside. I’ve got someone trying to get a warrant to get in, but frankly, I’m not sure that we’ll get it. The whole premise is a long shot. Mills could just have decided not to meet with you, or something could have come up to prevent her from meeting you. That stuff happens all the time. There’s nothing that directly ties the Mills woman to the shooting. The judge will likely want more to issue a warrant, rather than just speculation of a possible crime.”

  “Any ID on the dead woman?” Land asked, still sounding more like the person in charge than my chef. I knew the answer, but I kept quiet.

  Danvers shook his head. “No clue. The chief has given this the highest priority. One of the techs already took fingerprints and ran them through the system. No hits at all. So our most likely means of identifying the suspect is shot.”

  “You’ll get it,” Land said, almost encouragingly. I wasn’t used to Land being positive. Usually he was thinking that the situation was bleak, and here he was cheering the police on.

  “Probably, but it will be weeks. Our DNA lab is always backed up. They’re trying to process current cases as well as the backlog of cases where we have DNA evidence that’s never been tested. We’ll get priority, but it still won’t be fast.” His shoulders were slumped a bit, and the cocky attitude was gone. Danvers looked almost human when he wasn’t so full of himself. Apparently, he wasn’t as assured that the DNA labs would find a match for the dead woman. There were limits to identification, so unless the victim had submitted to a DNA test or been required to give fingerprints, she could easily not be in the system.

  However, I suspected that something would turn up. If snipers were involved, then this might be related to a government, military or police matter, and likely the woman’s identification could be tied to one of those organizations.

  For me, I had to wonder about the timing. It seemed entirely too coincidental that the woman had been killed at nearly the same time that I was to meet Mariel Mills, the sister of a murder victim. That was entirely too many interrelated events for me to believe that they weren’t all tied together. I believed that coincidences did happen, but not in this large of a number. I cringed though, not wanting to apply the label “conspiracy” to this case.

  I figured that I would take a chance and visit Mariel’s house after I finished this shift. I needed to wash some things in the sink, but I hesitated to get wet since I had phone numbers written in pen on my hand and arm. I would have to put on rubber gloves, and that would arouse Land’s suspicions. And since Danvers was here, Land would likely tell him what he suspected. They had a bad habit of ganging up on me, even though Land obviously didn’t trust Danvers.

  I stood there, waiting for the men to say something, but neither did. It was a very long few seconds waiting for someone to speak. I was afraid to say something, fearing that I’d give away what I’d learned from the woman’s phone. I knew that sometimes my mouth runs away with me, and I was certain that I’d be forced to erase the phone numbers from my arm and hand before leaving, if the two men knew I had them.

  I continued to scrub the prep area, while Land watched me. We worked together too much for him not to suspect anything, but I was hoping that he would think I planned a trip to the Zoz house. I was hoping that he’d let it go that I had one sneaky thing I planned to do and not two of them.

  Detective Danvers finally left with a comment that he’d be back to talk more. I assumed that the statement was di
rected toward Land, but if he suspected that I’d be doing some more snooping, it could have applied to me as well.

  The door had barely shut when Land asked, “What exactly are you up to? You’re acting guilty as hell.”

  I shrugged and slipped on a pair of rubber gloves. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

  Land didn’t say a word. He just walked up to the sink, dumped in some of the prep materials, and then began spraying water on my arms.

  “What are you doing?” I shouted. I pulled my hands out of the sink and began to wave them about to dry them as fast as possible.

  “What is up your sleeve? You never wear gloves during clean up. You don’t seem to mind that your fingers get all dried out—until today, when suddenly you’re overwhelmed with the desire to take care of your hands. I don’t buy it.” I pulled the gloves up my arms further so that he couldn’t see anything. However, I knew that this was only a temporary solution, since I couldn’t stay like this all day.

  Land leaned up against the counter and gave me a smile. “I can wait all day. Can you?”

  I thought of the things I wanted to do and sighed. “No, I can’t.” I pulled off the gloves one at a time, starting with the glove that covered nothing. The other glove came off next. I was afraid to see what the water had done to the numbers.

  The water that Land had sprayed on me had begun to fade the numbers. I could read one number completely, but the other two were partially obscured. Land took out a piece of paper and a pen. He scribbled down:

  829-4444

  385-8

  101-6

  He tore off the first sheet of paper and copied them again. He handed one sheet to me, and folded the other sheet and put it into his pocket. So much for my plans of keeping this to myself.

  “What?” I started to say, but Land cut me off.

  “I’m not going to tell you not to look into this. I know that won’t do any good, but I will keep track of all the clues you have. If something happens to you, then I should be able to trace your path and find out the most likely suspects. You don’t even have to tell me where you got this. This came off the dead woman’s phone. I saw you turn the bag over to Danvers, and I figured that you’d gotten some sort of information for yourself from the purse before you decided to be so concerned. But really—writing important things on your arm?” He shrugged to show that he would have done better.

  I grumbled about his desire to know what I was doing, but it made sense. You always needed a backup. “Am I that predictable that you can figure out what I am going to do?”

  He pondered the question for a minute. That meant the answer was “yes,” but he was trying to come up with a nicer way to say that. “There are certain threads that people think to follow in an investigation. So I’d follow those. It’s not that you’re predictable, but you’ll probably follow the most likely path to get to a destination.” He looked so pleased with his answer that I felt like I should congratulate him.

  “Well, if you must know, I’m going to stop by Mariel’s house to see if I can find out why she didn’t show up today. Then I might call that number,” I added, since I was sure that he already knew that I’d tried to protect it in order to use it.

  Land cleared his throat. “The police won’t be at the house, so you should be okay there. I doubt that they’ll be watching her place until they figure out how to get a warrant. That could be a while. But with the phone numbers, call from somewhere that they can’t trace it back to you.” He sighed. “It’s times like this that I miss payphones. Anonymity can be very helpful at times.”

  “The local mall still has a few,” I suggested, since I’d actually had enough money with the last paycheck to go shopping. “I could use the payphones there. Do you really think it’s that dangerous?”

  He nodded. “Best idea. I have a suspicion that these people are willing to stop at nothing to get what they want—and I don’t know what they are after yet. You’re going to need to be careful.”

  “And you know all this—how?” I asked, curious as to Land’s former life that he never spoke of. I suddenly thought that there was some military background I was unaware of.

  “Some other time. Now’s not good.” He turned and finished what he was cleaning. I stood there, watching him, but he didn’t turn back around.

  Obviously there was more to Land that had met my eye, but now I saw an efficient, perhaps militaristic person. I’d only looked at him for what he could do for the business and not as a complete person. I was doubly interested as to why he would have worked for my aunt. Being a chef seemed like a letdown after knowing how to deal with snipers.

  However, I knew that I would get nowhere by trying to quiz him on his past. I’d tried a few times before, and he’d shared nothing.

  Chapter 4

  It was only a short drive to Mariel Mills’ house. It was not a part of the upper crust suburbs where her sister had lived. Mariel lived in an old row house that was just outside the downtown limits. These houses had been built in the previous century by people who were tired of downtown living. Those people had moved again to the suburbs, and this neighborhood had gone downhill until the last twenty years when people interested in gentrification had begun to move in.

  Land was right. I didn’t see a single patrol car in the area, and certainly none sitting directly in front of the Mills house. I stayed in the old Buick for a few minutes, trying to figure out a plan of attack. First, I had to try the doorbell. There would be absolutely no excuse for me to break into the home if she was already there and alive. Plus it would be hard to explain to Mariel why I hadn’t bothered to knock.

  Then I needed an excuse to go around to the back of the house. From the rear of the house, I could see if I could find a way into Mariel’s home without being seen. It was not easy, but I knew that I had to do something. I strongly suspected that Mariel was either dead or dying, and I wanted to know that I had done my best to save her. I felt like I had gotten her into this situation by calling her and pushing her to talk about her sister and the family. If I could, it was my responsibility to get her out of this situation.

  I grabbed a manila envelope that had held some junk mail offers, and stuffed a few pieces of other junk mail in it. I had no plan to leave the papers there. I was taking Land’s admonishment to not be identified to heart. No one paid attention to sales people, especially door-to-door sales people. I would only use the papers as a cover, taking them with me as I went.

  I walked to the front door. Someone had told me that no one notices people who act like they know what they are doing. So I tried to project a confident persona, but after seeing a woman shot down in the city today, I felt anything but confident. I felt like someone was about two steps behind me and gaining fast. I fought the urge to scan the trees for hidden gunmen.

  I rapped on the door several times, but no one came to the door. I looked for a doorbell, but there was none. I waited, knocked again, acting as if I was surprised that she wasn’t home. I waited again, and then took my packet of papers clearly in my hands and walked around the side of the house.

  There was a small latched fence, and I opened the latch without problems and walked into the backyard. The fence wasn’t high enough to mask what I was doing from the neighbors. So I took the few steps up to the backdoor and knocked again. There was a doorbell here, and I rang it. I could hear the sound echo through the house, so I knew that it worked and someone should hear it if they were home—and alive.

  I shifted the papers from one hand to the other, and when I did, they fell to the ground. I leaned down to get them. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that one of the basement windows leaned inward.

  I walked down to the ground level to get a better look at the window. Since I was pretending to be self-confident, I didn’t have the time to dither as to whether to do this or not. I sat down on the ground and slid my body through the window in a single gymnast-like movement.

  I found myself in the basement, a plain concr
ete and beams sort of place. The laundry facilities were next to the window, and I looked around, but I couldn’t see anything that would tell me about the woman of the house. Millions of homes had similar set-ups all around the country.

  I slowly walked toward the stairs leading upward. I was concerned about ferocious dogs and being locked in the basement. The first was not a huge concern, because I’d knocked and rung the doorbell enough to try a St. Bernard’s patience. So I doubted that a dog would appear now, growling and barking. Any pet that slow, I could outrun.

  The other was a bigger fear, as then I’d have to try to make my way back out of the window. I hadn’t seen any form of ladder in the basement, so I’d have to wrangle boxes or something to stand on in order to comfortably reach the window. All of that action would give the neighbors time to decide that something was wrong with my approach and call the police. While they’d be appreciative to know what I found here, I knew that their gratitude would not extend to giving me a pass on committing B&E. So my best hope was to get upstairs and find out what was going on.

  I took the stairs slowly. While I had called out a few times since I’d been in the house, the thought of someone waiting at the top of the stairs and hearing my ascent made me walk quietly. I gently turned the knob and pushed the door.

  There was no one greeting me at the landing. I let out the air I’d been holding in my lungs and relaxed. I seemed to be alone. I did a quick survey from room to room. The first floor held what would have been the parlor in an earlier age and the kitchen. The room was bright and polished, far different than it would have been when the house was built.

  I took the stairs quickly, knowing that any of the neighbors might wonder about me and call the police at any time. I didn’t want to have to explain myself to the police.