FOOD TRUCK MYSTERIES: The Complete Series (14 Books)

by Chloe Kendrick

  “Anders,” I corrected him. “We have to use his real name if we’re going to drop him off there.” Grandma was very traditional.

  Land nodded. “I’ll call and make sure, but if you want to go out for the evening, I’m happy to oblige.”

  Chapter 2

  The next morning, Andy and I headed downtown to check out the Bargain Baby store downtown. Since we were in the area, we stopped at Dogs on the Roll for a few minutes to say hello. Sabine was working hard, and we stood by the side of the truck, waiting for the foot traffic to slow down. The morning rush, which consisted mainly of coffee for the early risers, was nearly done at 9:30, and then Sabine would have two hours before the lunch crowd started.

  When she was handing cash back to the last customer, Andy and I went in the truck. Sabine swooped down on him and picked him up, covering him with kisses. She and Detective Danvers still had not set a date for their own wedding, but when she did things like this, I knew that she was getting prepared to get married. Her interest in babies had been at an all-time high since Anders had been born.

  “How are things here?” I asked, looking around the truck. It was an odd sensation to be back after a few weeks away. I found that I missed the food, the business, the customers, the camaraderie. I thought that I could swing my career with a single child, but what happened if we had another, or a third?

  “Sales have been great,” she said. I knew that sales had been up ten percent from last quarter, and I wondered if her flirtatious ways had increased the number of male customers per day.

  “I’ve seen. Anything I can do to help?”

  “You’re dying to come back,” she laughed. “I can see it in your face. You want to be back, working at the truck and running the business.” She punctuated her remarks with a kiss to the baby.

  I had to admit that there was some truth to what she said. I missed my business, and I missed my life outside of motherhood That’s not to say that I didn’t love my new job as mother, but for so long, I’d been Maeve Kinkaid and then later Mendoza, the food trucks’ owner. I had enjoyed that and wanted to continue my career.

  I had prepared years to work in business, attending a prestigious school, though I had not received any job offers after graduation. Perhaps that need was where the desire to investigate a crime, any crime, had come from—a desire for things to return to normal.

  I knew that I wouldn’t trade these first few weeks with my baby for the world though. The trucks would be here when I got back, but Andy would only be this age once. Just in the first few weeks of life he had already begun to change and grow. It was hard to believe how much he’d changed in such a short time.

  “So how is Ander?” Sabine asked, stretching out his full name. She knew well and good that we had been calling him Andy at home, but much like her brother, she had no intention of angering her grandmother without good reason.

  “Doing well. We’re off to investigate some formula,” I said.

  “Is that what you call shopping these days?” Sabine replied.

  “No, we’re really investigating,” I said. I explained quickly about the formula and the crimped bottoms of the canisters.

  “It’s a step down from murder, but I suppose it’s less dangerous.” Given that she was engaged to Detective Danvers, I suspected she had already heard his statements about a shoplifting case.

  I shook my head. “There a special type of formula that Anders prefers, but formula shopping could be dangerous if a baby has a particular allergy. I think I’ve uncovered some kind of fraud ring in town.”

  Sabine laughed, and a few people on Government Square turned to look at her. The laugh had been throaty and rich, and even Ander was taken with her for the moment. His big blue eyes grew wide. Sabine had that effect on most men.

  “Only you would turn motherhood into an investigation. So where are you off to now? Interrogating witnesses? Checking alibis?”

  “Buying more formula,” I replied with a smile. “We’re going to see if all of the stores in the chain have the same issue, or if it’s just the one store.”

  Sabine’s eyes grew wide. “You’re actually serious? I thought you were joking around. Wow.” A small smile, like the one her brother wore at times, played around her lips.

  “You’re right. I do seem to attract these types of situations.”

  A few new customers began to line up for coffee, and we said our goodbyes to Aunt Sabine for the moment. I decided that we would walk to the store. The June day was sunny and warm. I would be carrying a car seat carrier, so there was no chance of me not getting my workout in for today.

  I turned right on Maple, and then left on Fifth Street. The store was halfway down the block. The downtown store looked a touch trendier than the store we’d visited yesterday. Yet the location still had all the hallmarks of a discount store. The decorations were practically spartan, and the walls did not have posters or displays of goods. The decor was industrial.

  Today we headed right to the formula aisle. The goat’s milk formula was on the bottom shelf. I set the carrier on the floor and began inspecting the canisters. Ostensibly, I was checking the expiration dates of the product, but I managed to look at the bottom to see if the metal had been crimped.

  I found one that had been, and a second that had not. This intrigued me, so I picked up both and took them to the register to pay. I wasn’t certain if the phony formula was also coming to this store, or if part of a shipment might have been directed to this location.

  The girl behind the register had jet black hair, three tattoos, and three piercings that I could count. Moreover, she looked bored. I had to admit that the store was not busy. I wondered if the lack of customers was because the store was new to the area or if the location was not somewhere bargain shoppers would frequent. Most of the stores on Fifth Street were upscale designers, and the Bargain Baby store seemed like an anomaly in the middle of the boutiques. Why had Rachford chosen this spot?

  She rang me up without even looking twice at us. I was actually relieved that the cashier was so blasé about our visit, given that we’d stopped at another store the day before. My mother had me worrying that people would be watching out for multiple buyers like me. If indeed the corporation itself was involved in fraud, they would want to ensure that no one had caught on to their scheme.

  On the way back to the car, which I’d parked on Elm Street out of habit, I decided to stop by the taco truck and say hello to Carter. He’d been at the hospital when I gave birth, but he hadn’t seen Andy since. Granted that he and Aaron were busy raising Carter’s brother and sisters, but I wanted to say hello—and, of course, check on my investment in person.

  The truck was beyond busy at this point. It was nearly noon, and I recognized that, much as I wanted to chat with a friend, I wanted the truck to make money, and I needed to get the baby home for another feeding. Andy made all investigating need to happen between two hour windows of time between bottles.

  I made my way back to the car, feeling a little disoriented. I had enjoyed this time off with Andy, but seeing my business march on without me made me ever-so-slightly wistful that I was missing out on my professional career at the same time. I could understand why women were leery of taking too much time off for maternity leave.

  Andy and I made it home without issue, and I fed him before making myself a salad for lunch. Most of my baby weight had come off, but the last few pounds were being as stubborn as me. I was hoping that the additional exercise of the past few days would help counter those pounds.

  I still had to find out if the intact canister had the correct formula in it. After lunch, I performed the same experiment again, making up a bottle of the original goat’s milk formula and a bottle from each of the canisters purchased today.

  My taste test confirmed my suspicions. The can with the crimped bottom did not taste like the other two. I’d found another counterfeit container of formula.

  The next thing I planned on doing was finding out what the counte
rfeit product was made of. I knew that there were no facilities that could locate the correct brand for me, based on a sample. However, I could likely get a list of ingredients, which would then tell me what was being used in the canister instead of the goat’s milk formula.

  I called around to a few testing facilities and found a lab in the area that had performed work for the police on the occasions they needed to outsource work. They made arrangements to come and pick up the product, and I hung up. I was glad for UPS, since I didn’t relish the idea of getting Andy ready for another trip out.

  Having done that, I sat down and worked on the books for the food trucks while Andy took a nap. Usually I took a nap as well, but today I felt energized by the visit to the food trucks. I had been keeping an eye on the accounts and the daily deposits. While I knew that the business was thriving, I couldn’t have told anyone about the ROI or the net profits for each truck.

  I spent an hour or so working on the numbers. In this way, even though I was away from the daily business, I still felt like I had a hand in the operations. I was pleased with the results. Even the newest truck was performing well, despite its rocky start. Four trucks, and all were profitable.

  I ran some additional figures which showed me what I suspected. I could take an indefinite leave of absence to spend with Andy and still live in the modest, but comfortable style of living that we enjoyed.

  I actually cooked dinner for the family and had it waiting for Land when he came home. Land spent time with Andy while eating, managing to feed himself with one hand while holding the baby in his other. He made my most difficult tasks look easy at times.

  Land’s grandmother had decided to come to the apartment to babysit. She had indicated, mostly in Basque, that Ander had his toys and supplies were here, and that it was easier to move herself than everything he would need.

  She would be spending the night, so we wouldn’t have to wake up the baby when we came home. Her willingness to put herself out was very generous, and I appreciated it. I hadn’t had an evening with just Land since Andy was born. I was excited and nervous at the same time.

  It took a little effort, but I fit into a professional-looking dress that was all business, but also fancy enough to be worn to a gala. I was pleased with the results, since I didn’t look like I had been carrying a human being inside of me until last month.

  Land looked fantastic as usual in his tuxedo. He hadn’t worn it since our wedding, and I spent a few minutes reminding him of how glad I was for that event and everything that had happened since then. For a few moments, I thought about taking the tux off of him, but since his grandmother was in the next room, that was an ill-advised move.

  After double-checking all the contact information for me, Land, my parents, and various other people, including Danvers, in case of a police emergency, Land led me out the door.

  ***

  The event was being held at the local playhouse. The location had a large stage for the major productions, usually plays that I’d actually heard of. Then they had recently added a smaller stage for productions of new or avant garde plays by authors I didn’t know. When they added the smaller stage, they’d included a space for organizational get-togethers. The extra income from the party space allowed them to fund the smaller productions, while still leaving tickets reasonably priced.

  They had added the new spaces on the second floor, where floor-to-ceiling windows gave off a stunning view of part of the city. The roads which led out of downtown to the east rose slightly so that the homes and businesses there had an unparalleled view of Capital City. I could see Government Square in the distance as we looked out at the night sky.

  The main event would be held on the small stage by the small business organization, while the reception would be held in the party area, which contained convenient food and drink carts for patrons. I’d been to a few of these small business events over the past five years. I saw a few familiar faces in the crowd, but no one that I felt an overwhelming urge to talk to.

  Land and I planned our arrival so that we would miss the majority of the presentation and be available for the party afterwards. If I was going to get a moment to Tom Rachford then I would need to do it during the drinks after the presentation.

  When we arrived, the members were just leaving the auditorium where the presentation had been. We joined in with the others to head to the bar area. Land shot me a smile, showing his approval at not having to sit through another boring presentation of an award, this time to someone who seemed to be cutting costs by selling cheaper products under another name. I wondered what the small business organization would say about fraud.

  The party got under way. I chose to have a glass of sparkling water; I didn’t want to come home to Andy in an inebriated state – plus, I wasn’t sure what Land’s grandmother would say about my behavior if I did. Land had a beer, but only one. We nursed the drinks as we looked around for Rachford.

  I finally saw a group of people standing near one of the hors d'oeuvre carts. Either there was a run on the appetizers, or the guest of honor was somewhere in their midst. I made a motion with my head to show Land where I was going.

  We had agreed that we would not approach him together. First, approaching him in tandem might seem like we were ganging up on him, and second, if I failed, Land would still have a chance to talk to Rachford without the man knowing that Land was with me.

  I slid into the group, not making any sudden moves to be closer to Rachford. I didn’t want to seem like this was anything other than a casual meeting. As I stood there, Brianna Preston approached me. She’d been involved in the Preston Art Gallery downtown, when I had looked into her brother’s murder.

  “Maeve, you look wonderful. What have you been up to?” she asked. She looked particularly lovely tonight. She’d let her hair fall down to her shoulders. Her dress was simple, but obviously elegant in a deep shade of blue.

  I gave her a brief rundown of the events of the last two years, which included marriage and a child—and a few more murder cases.

  “Does Carter still work for you?” she asked. I had nearly forgotten that Carter had been a secret relative of sorts. I was saddened that she hadn’t kept in better touch with him.

  “They’re fine, and the kids are fine,” I added. I kept watching Rachford, hoping for an opening, but the crowd around him didn’t seem to dissipate at all.

  “Are you wanting to talk to Tom?” Brianna asked, following my gaze. “You keep looking over there. I know it’s not for any other reason. No one would trade your husband for Tom.”

  I didn’t respond, which probably told her all that she needed to know. Perhaps I was out of practice at being stealthy if she could read me that easily.

  “This is about another murder case?” she asked. “Did Tom kill someone or steal millions of dollars?” Her face lit up at the thought of some scandal in town—as long as her family wasn’t involved.

  “Not really. I just had a question for him about one of his products,” I said truthfully. After that build-up, I could hardly tell Brianna that I was looking into a case of substituted formula. It paled compared to some of my adventures, including the ones that Brianna had seen first-hand.

  “Fine! Be that way,” she said, but she still turned and moved us closer to the center of the group.

  She elbowed a few people out of the way, and we were finally close enough to talk to Rachford. He was drinking from a champagne glass, one of those wider, flatter glasses that hold enough bubbly to make you happy.

  Rachford was far older than the photo on the website. His hair was completely gray on the sides and getting gray on the top. He had wrinkles around blue eyes that seemed to be appraising everyone who came into his line of sight. I had a hunch that the gaze was reserved for the fairer sex. He wasn’t much taller than me, perhaps 5’9” or so. He was slim, the type of figure that comes from hours of hard work at the gym to hold age and good living at bay.

  “Brianna, darling, good to see you. Who i
s your friend?” he said, sounding almost as bubbly as his drink.

  She made the appropriate introductions. “Maeve owns the food trucks down by Government Square. I’m sure you’ve seen them before. Of course you have.” Her certainty was curious to me, and I turned to look at her when she spoke.

  “Nice to meet you, Maeve of the food trucks. I hope you’re having a good time.”

  “Congratulations,” I said in return. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Land watching me talk to this man. I felt more comfortable with another person in my corner.

  “Thank you. Bargain Baby had a record year, and so the group decided to award me for my efforts. It’s an honor and all that,” he said, waving the champagne glass a bit wildly.

  A waiter came by, and Rachford replaced the near empty glass with another full serving of the champagne. He sipped at it twice before returning to our discussion.

  “That’s great to hear. What’s your secret?” I asked. I knew that he was incredibly unlikely to admit defrauding his customers, but I wanted to see how far I could take this conversation between his bravado and his inebriation.

  “Good products and good salespeople. Say, do you have any little ones?” he asked, apparently sensing the opportunity for additional sales. If he was always this focused on selling, perhaps he really did deserve this award.

  I took out my phone and swiped through some of the photos of Andy. Brianna cooed as she saw the photos, while Rachford made a few desultory comments that led me to believe he was only interested in children as potential customers.

  People ebbed and flowed around us. I didn’t recognize most of them, and I felt a bit claustrophobic in the flood of people. Perhaps I would have been more successful in a quieter, less populated setting.

  “How old is he?” Brianna asked.

  I told her the whole story of his birth in more detail than Rachford cared to hear. He turned his attention away from me and began talking to another older man, who looked vaguely familiar. I couldn’t place him, but I was sure that I’d met him before.