Then the officiant said, “Before this gathering, Maeve and Land have promised each other their love and have given each other rings to wear as a sign of their deep commitment. Therefore, I declare that they are husband and wife. You may kiss—” I didn’t bother to wait for the officiant to finish. I pulled Land close to me and kissed him as if it would last forever.
MURDERS & ACQUISITIONS
Chapter 1
Why is it that the few days after a vacation make you entirely forget that you were ever gone in the first place? My first Wednesday back at the food trucks after an incredible honeymoon was just that way.
We spent two glorious weeks in Europe, where I had a chance to meet Land’s parents and see where he grew up. We had time to travel to London, and Paris and Nice. I could have easily gotten used to that lifestyle, even more so since I hadn’t had a vacation since I’d inherited a food truck three years ago. Still, all good things must come to an end, and we arrived home with the realization that we had to start working again.
The day started at its usual 4:00 a.m., except, now that I was married, I had to try to sneak around and get ready in the dark. Land previously stayed at his place on the mornings where he wanted to sleep in. So turning on lights and making noise was never an issue back then. Today though, I realized I’d forgotten to set up the coffee pot the night before, so I had to go without. I couldn’t possibly make coffee with a pot that announced when it was ready with loud beeps that echoed through our apartment.
I got to work and started on the coffee first. I’d told Sabine, Land’s sister, not to come until later. She graciously manned the food truck single-handedly while we were gone, and I thought that a good deed should be rewarded.
After the coffee was brewing, I looked around to see if the food truck had suffered any catastrophes during my absence, but the truck was clean and ready to go. My fears had been unfounded.
I waited until my first mug of coffee was half finished before I started to count the money. I missed Land’s special blend of coffee beans while we were gone, and true to his word, he had not shared a word about the recipe to me after the ceremony. I was slightly disappointed, but as long as he was around, I supposed that I didn’t have to know all his secrets. I’d thought about wheedling it from his parents during our trip, but I decided to save that for later meetings.
After I felt half awake, I counted the cash. I had to count it three times to get the right total. Usually I was spot on, but I could tell that I was out of my routines. Numbers were second nature to me, and I was saddened by the fact that I wasn’t ready to jump back into the groove after my time off.
Sabine showed up around 6:00 a.m., earlier than she needed to arrive. Honestly, before 9:00 a.m., our traffic consisted of all coffee, no hot dogs. Land’s coffee was all that people want, and we gladly supplied it to the workers who filled the three high-rises that surrounded Government Square. The food truck, Dogs on the Roll, was parked on Elm Street, adjacent to the biggest plaza in Capital City. A number of businesses, along with many of the government offices and even a police station, made up the skyscraper tenants. The downtown police station was located directly across the square from our truck, so we always had a view of what was going on.
The square had big cement spheres to keep traffic off the square, and plenty of benches and tables for people to sit and watch pedestrians go by. It offered a bit of a café feel to the food truck’s fare.
I wasn’t sure that Sabine had enjoyed the view while we were gone. She and Jax Danvers, a detective for the Capital City Police Department who she’d been dating, had broken it off. Sabine had been moody afterwards, but she seemed to have gotten over it in the last few months.
“Hey, sis,” she said, putting on her apron. “I wasn’t sure if I’d see you here today.” She laughed.
“I’m here. I left Land sleeping and got dressed in the dark.”
“Well, that explains my next question,” she said as she pointed to my shoes. I had three pairs of similar sneakers and was wearing mismatched right and left shoes.
“The morning plan still needs some work,” I answered. I put the drawer under the counter and opened the window for the start of customers.
The morning breezed by. After finishing my first two cups, I got back into the groove of making and selling coffee. By the time the customers started turning their minds to lunch, I was feeling like I had the routine down again. Sabine asked questions about her parents in the few lulls we’d had, and I shared what I knew of them with her. I knew she especially missed them since the break-up and I tried to share everything I could recall from our visit.
I didn’t really talk much to Carter, who ran our third truck. He was in a different part of town, and while I wanted to talk to him about sales figures for the new truck in our fleet, I didn’t have the energy yet.
At 2:00 p.m., Land drove Basque in the Sun to its regular place, on the other side of the square. He served a late lunch and dinner menu with more sophisticated menu items than hot dogs. We took the morning and lunch crowds, which were more amenable to eat-on-the-go foods.
I got the nod from Sabine as she made preparations to take my spot while I paid a visit to the other truck. She took her first order as I left the truck and headed to see my husband. I still wasn’t used to the word. He’d been boyfriend and then business partner for several years, so the new concept would take a little time. I played with the wedding ring as I walked over, thinking how lucky I was to have Land.
I stepped into the food truck, and Land pulled me into a kiss. We’d been doing that for several years as well, and I was glad that getting married had done nothing to put out the fire. After a few minutes, he broke it off and looked down at my feet.
“Your other pair of shoes is in the bag,” he said with a smile toying at the corners of his mouth.
“Thanks,” I replied, ignoring the implied comment. Even so, he’d noticed the error and sought to help me fix it.
“How’s business?” he said when he saw that I wasn’t going to play along. “Things back to normal.”
I nodded. “Yeah, seems like it.”
“Then I guess that we should start talking about the fourth food truck?”
That was Land. After paying attention to me, he was all business. Since we were responsible for our own welfare and the livelihoods of others, we felt a responsibility to them to do the best we could. That meant opening a new truck now that we were back from our honeymoon.
After solving a counterfeiting case, we’d picked up our fourth food truck, but with the wedding and a few more murders, we had decided to postpone the latest truck until we returned from the honeymoon. The idea appealed to me so much that I actually postponed doing any work on the concept for the truck or the opening. I was always a tad hesitant to start a new truck, since the existing trucks did so well and needed so little input from me.
I nodded. “I’ll swing by the paper today and put an ad in,” I said.
“Can we post online?” Land asked. “You sound like my grandmother.”
“Okay, I’ll do that too.” I’d been stalling a bit because I didn’t want to move too quickly. I actually just wanted to savor the moment.
Land rolled his eyes. “Don’t say that. You know that means someone will try to kill us or we’ll find a stack of dead bodies next to one of the trucks. We never have a moment to sit back and just savor.”
I leaned in close to him. “I remember a few moments like that from last week.” I stopped him from arguing by pressing my mouth to his.
When I returned to Dogs on the Roll, Sabine had already started her clean-up for the day. I winced, thinking that perhaps I’d stayed too long with Land. It was hard to stop savoring the moment when I was married to the one guy I knew would stand by me no matter what.
I started counting the money, but hadn’t gotten to the fives when I heard a man clear his throat.
“It’s Maeve, right? Maeve Kinkaid?”
I looked over at the man who was standing at t
he window. He was about my age, give or take a few years, with his hair slicked back into one of those stylish cuts. He had tiny crinkles around his eyes as he squinted to look into the food truck. He was wearing a business suit with a bright tie that immediately drew attention to him. He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him.
“Well, actually, it’s Mendoza now,” I said. I had thought about keeping my name, but eventually decided that when we had children I wanted the family all to have the same name. My parents were so excited about the possibility of children that they were with the name change, even if I was the last Kinkaid in the family.
“Congratulations,” he replied, sticking out a hand. I leaned across the window and shook his hand. “Do you have a minute to talk?” I tried to determine if he was for real or trying to sell me the latest scam. He seemed legit, so I decided to hear him out.
I nodded, went to the door, and exited. Sabine would not be too happy with me today, since I’d spent five minutes of the last hour in the truck, but this seemed like more of a business transaction than an idle chat.
Once we were face to face, I remembered where I knew the man from. We’d had several of the same classes together in business school. His name was Brett something, and he’d dated a friend of mine briefly. I was pleased that I wouldn’t be at a disadvantage here.
“How have you been, Brett?” I asked, working his name into the conversation as soon as I could.
“Good. I’ve heard about how well you’re doing. That’s why I’m here.” He gave me a smile, which immediately let me know that this was not a social call.
“Do you have restaurant or food truck experience?” I asked. Most of the people who interviewed for positions with the truck were dressed far more casually than this. I wasn’t averse to interviewing on the street, and a quick hire would allow me to forgo the ad in the newspaper.
He laughed. It was more of an amused chuckle, as though I’d said something funny. “I’m not here for a job. I’m here with a business opportunity.”
I searched his face, but couldn’t read anything. I was not in the mood to waste time in hearing about some pyramid scheme or get-rich-quick company. I was running a profitable business on the normal track to wealth.
“Thanks,” I said with as much politeness as I could muster, “but we’re doing just fine as it is.”
Brett took the packet of papers from under his arm. For a second, I thought he had become a process server, and I was about to be sued for some undetermined offense, but he spoke again. “We know your business is doing well. Very well. This is a deal that my partnership has come up with. We’d like to buy your company and all the food trucks with it.”
My mouth dropped open. Not exactly a tactic I learned in business school, but at the moment I had nothing to say. I had never for a moment expected that anyone would want to acquire my business. It was relatively small, but profitable, which were the typical indicators for a business purchase. Yet the possibility had never crossed my mind.
“I brought the entire contract for you to read—and, dare I hope, sign. We both know that Professor Wallace would flunk us if we signed anything without reading it thoroughly.” Brett handed the packet over to me, and I took it without comment. My mind was still reeling.
I could see that Land was watching me from his truck. His presence finally gave me a response. “I’ll need to check this over with my business partner, who conveniently happens to be my husband as well. It’s a big step, and we both have to agree.”
“Of course,” Brett said. He fished in a pocket and came out with a business card. “Here’s my contact information if you have any questions or would like to accept.” He gave me a smile to let me know that was supposed to be low-pressure salesmanship.
I leaned across the window and grabbed a card of my own. It had a drop of grease on it, but other than that, it worked. He’d have to get used to condiments and grease if he took over the food trucks.
“Thanks. I’ll hang on to this,” he said. He held the card up, then turned and was gone. His card read Brett Connors in a raised script with the name of his company, along with three telephone numbers and two email addresses.
I fanned through the pages of the contract, but of course, nothing could be learned from skimming the information. I would have to sit down and study it carefully if I wanted to think about this seriously. Did I want to sell the business?
I decided to postpone the decision. I pulled out my phone and texted Land a quick response to his curiosity across the square. He got it and nodded at me. He winked too, which made me blush a little.
I got back into the truck and started counting money again. Sabine was done with her clean-up and had started prepping the coffee for the next day, which was a task I normally completed. I tried to hurry, but my mind kept wandering back to the offer that was in my backpack.
“So, who was that guy?” Sabine asked. “Doesn’t he know you’re happily married?” Sabine always kept an eye on me for her brother, as if I was biding my time for the chance to hurt Land.
“Some guy who I went to college with. He has a business proposition, and yes, he knows I’m married, and Land watched the entire thing. I texted him about it already.”
I didn’t want to share any more with Sabine than necessary. Land should be the first to hear it, since he owned part of the company—and all of my heart. He would never complain if his nosy sister had found out before him, but I always let him know where my loyalty rested.
I finally finished my count and then recounted twice. My mind was elsewhere, and I wanted to make sure it was right. Part of me wanted to go discuss the matter with Land that minute, but the lines of customers had begun to form for his truck, and I wanted to let him do his job in peace.
I took the food truck back to the secured lot, dropped off the deposit, and went home to wait.
***
It was nearly 8:00 p.m. when Land got home for the evening. He was tired, and sweat covered his brow and his back.
“What happened?” I asked, worrying a little about him. Land was the type who could always take care of himself, and he appeared out of sorts at the moment.
He shrugged. “Just a flat tire on my car. I had to change it on the side of the road in this humidity.”
I would have pulled him into a hug, but he appeared too sticky for that. “I’m glad that was all it was,” I said. However, in the back of my mind, I felt those old familiar sensations that perhaps this was related to the invitation to sell the business.
In the past, we’d had bad luck which had ended up being part of a larger pattern. Flat tires had been some of that. Land’s sport car had been in a secured lot all day though, so the chances of someone sneaking in were fairly small. Besides, Land would pursue anyone who touched that car to the ends of the earth.
“How are you doing?” he asked. “I bet you’ve been dying to talk about the proposal.”
I nodded. “I thought about calling my dad, but I decided to wait to talk to you first.”
Land stripped off his shirt. Even though I was married to him, the sight of that lean, muscular body distracted me for a second. He looked at me and smiled. “So talk.”
I followed him into the bedroom where he put on a clean T-shirt.
“I don’t want to sell,” I said.
The time alone had allowed me to get past thrill of the offer and to think about what I really wanted. If I sold the trucks, then I’d have to find another business to enter. I was five years older than when I inherited the first food truck. When I graduated from college, no company wanted a strong-willed red-headed woman, and I doubted that they would be more interested in a strong-willed red-headed woman who had built a very successful business and sold it for a healthy profit. I would have trouble going from boss to employee.
If I had to be honest, that was not the only reason I didn’t want to sell. I’d grown accustomed to setting my own hours and doing these investigations. While there had been times when I tired of
my work, I hated the thought of sitting at a desk in an office for the next 40 years. Tiny cubicles where you might not even be allowed to post family pictures were not for me. Sometimes when I visited Detective Danvers, I could hardly stand the palpable depression in the air. I didn’t want that.
Land nodded. “Are you sure?”
I gave him a weak smile. “I hope that’s okay with you. I was going to talk it out with you, but the more I thought about selling, the more I realized I couldn’t go through with it. First, there’s the fact that my aunt left me the first truck. You and I met there. We bought a truck together there. Lots of memories, and I don’t think it’s done growing. I don’t think we’re done growing either.”
He gave me a kiss on the nose. It wasn’t exactly the corporate response I’d expected from him, but at the same time, it was cute. “I knew you weren’t ready to give up this life. You talked about it too much on the honeymoon.”
I thought back to our trip and had to admit to myself that I had talked about the business a fair amount. Land probably hadn’t had to stretch much to realize that I loved what I did for a living.
“So I’ll call him tomorrow and tell him no.” I threw the packet of information down on the coffee table and went to get a drink of water.
Land went to the phone and dialed Brett’s number for me. The phone rang twice before being answered.
An all-too-familiar voice said, “What the hell are you two doing?”
Chapter 2
The voice belonged to Jax Danvers, one of Capital City’s finest. There was only one reason why he’d be answering Brett’s phone, and it wasn’t because he’d taken a part-time job with the executive. Something terrible had happened to Brett.
I looked at Land, who shrugged, so I spoke. “Hello. I’m guessing that Brett’s not available?”
Danvers managed a few sentences that were profoundly laced with profanities before he finally admitted what we already strongly suspected. Brett had been murdered about two hours ago. He’d been leaving a downtown eatery and been struck by a car which backed up and ran over him again before fleeing the scene of the crime.
FOOD TRUCK MYSTERIES: The Complete Series (14 Books) Page 124
