FOOD TRUCK MYSTERIES: The Complete Series (14 Books)

by Chloe Kendrick

  “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Land said. Given how often Danvers thought of the wrong something, I didn’t feel that the comment was helpful.

  Danvers nodded. “I wanted to let you both know. We’re allowing everyone to go home now, since it seems to be pretty clear. Make sure you give your names and address to the officers by the door and then you can go home to Andy.”

  His charm was worse than his typical resentment at being shut out of a case. I took Land’s hand, and we were headed home in a few minutes.

  ***

  Land’s grandmother was sound asleep on the sofa when we returned home. We had been about 15 minutes later than I had told her, which wasn’t bad, since I hadn’t factored in a murder. I checked on Andy, who was sleeping soundly, and then met Land in our room.

  “Do you really think it’s as simple as that? An affair?”

  “Most men are done in by their wives,” Land graciously pointed out.

  “And women by their husbands,” I added.

  He smiled. “Not us, though. So what are you doing tomorrow?” he asked, knowing me well enough that I wasn’t going to leave this alone.

  “I’m thinking that I’ll start with the widow,” I said. “I want to sound her out on this. If this was really a murder due to an affair, was she a part of the plan to murder her husband or was this Noel Winston’s plan alone?”

  “Not bad,” he said. “I think I would have started there too. You know that Danvers will have Winston tied up all day. He might not have the widow since she wasn’t at the event.”

  “Why wasn’t she there?” I asked. “Most of the other wives were milling around, but not Rachford’s wife. Do you think it could have been because it would have been obvious between her and Winston?”

  “Could be. Or maybe she just doesn’t care if her husband gets awards as long as she get his money.”

  “I’ll take Grandma home tomorrow,” I said. Even though Land didn’t have to go into work until after lunch, I knew that Grandma would want to lecture Land on how to be a better father and husband. For me, she would use her limited English to make small talk.

  ***

  When we awoke the next morning, Land’s grandmother was already up and apparently cooking, from the aromas emanating from the kitchen. I smelled a variety of breakfast meats, even though I wasn’t sure that we had any supplies in the refrigerator.

  I made Land go out first to see, and he came back munching on some bacon. “She had a friend bring some supplies over last night after she looked in the refrigerator for a snack.”

  I groaned, thinking how she must consider me an awful wife and mother.

  “What are you complaining about? I got a lecture on how I should be doing the shopping since you just had a baby. She is entirely Team Maeve on this matter.”

  I smiled and snapped a piece off of his bacon. “As she should be.”

  We dressed and I dropped Grandma off at home before heading to Kensington, one of the more prestigious neighborhoods in Capital City. Far from the downtown areas and the neighborhoods where the Bargain Baby stores were located, the neighborhood smelled of prosperity.

  I found the house by the numbers on the brick pillars by the gates in front of each home. I smiled to myself, thinking that, while I’d lived in less glamorous places, I’d saved enough for two more food trucks. I wasn’t sure that Land or I were prepared for this type of living. We were happy in the apartment so I could stay home when needed.

  I pulled into the driveway and made my way down the sloping drive to the house. I was surprised to see another car. I wondered if there was a family member at the house, or someone from the police.

  However, before I even got to the door, the double doors opened and Victoria Albrecht stepped out. She was less snake-like in her daywear, but her hair was still slicked back. She wore heels that would have hurt me and a white dress that looked tailored to her thin physique.

  She looked at me and sniffed at my presence. “Maeve, I hope you’re not here to gawk. It’s unbecoming.”

  I smiled at her, wondering what she was doing here. “No, I came to offer condolences and any assistance I can.”

  Victoria looked skeptical. “If you say so. Just be polite.” With that, she made her way to her car. I had to get back into the Buick and move it to the right. I was sure that my choice of transportation didn’t meet her approval either.

  I got out of the car and made my way to the door. The sidewalk was about 30 feet long and was luxuriously landscaped.

  The door was open before I approached. The woman standing there looked nothing like Victoria. Mrs. Rachford was all hormones and sexual energy. I wasn’t her type, to be sure, but even so, she projected so much that I felt the allure. I was glad that Land had not come with me. She wore her blonde hair down to her shoulders and her blouse was open, as if she wanted to offer a free breast-feeding to my baby. Her jeans were tight-fitting and curvaceous. I would have loved to have had ringside seats to see Detective Danvers question her. He would be too distracted to make rational decisions about the case.

  Andy was swinging in his carrier by my side. Fortunately, Mrs. Rachford was captivated by the youngest member of the family and cooed over him. Andy gave her a smile and was entirely charming.

  “What can I help you with?” she asked as she stood up again.

  I took a deep breath. On the way over, in the relative silence with Grandma Mendoza, I had formulated a plan. It wasn’t much of a plan in terms of fancy equipment or the work of hundreds. I was going to tell her the truth. Bring my little boy over here, tell her about the dangers, and see what she had to say. If she knew anything about this fraud, she might say something—her relationship with her husband didn’t appear to be too close. If not, maybe she’d share something about the happenings from last night.

  “I’m not willing to speak to any reporters,” she continued, and the door began to inch closed.

  “I’m not a reporter. I’m a mother,” I said, realizing that I’d not called myself that before. It was odd-sounding, but nice. When I had a moment, I would have to ponder why I hadn’t couched myself in those terms before.

  “Okay. I’m not in the mood to speak with door-to-door salespeople either,” she continued.

  As quickly as I could, I outlined the situation. “I wasn’t sure if Bargain Baby had anything to do with the formula switch, and it didn’t cause Andy any harm, but you can see how an infant with a food allergy or something along those lines could be impacted,” I finished.

  “Well, you’re definitely not a salesperson,” she said with a small laugh. “I’m Maggie Rachford, obviously. Come on in. Normally, I’d tell you to go the headquarters, but as it is, I really need something to take my mind off certain matters. I’m assuming that you heard?”

  I nodded. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “Thanks. I’m not devastated. We were having problems, but nobody wants this to happen to anyone in their life.” I was a bit taken aback by her comments, but maybe she was going to be as brutally honest with me as I was with her. “We had each gone our separate ways romantically, but we were still together for financial reasons. Tom didn’t have sufficient cash to give me half of what he’d earned.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I just stood there.

  “I’ve shocked you. I didn’t mean to, but I’m just tired of pretending that I’m the grieving widow. That Albrecht woman wanted to throw a wake for Tom and wanted me to pretend to care. I’m more concerned about keeping the company afloat, and even more so now that you’re telling me about this fraud.”

  “I understand. I normally would have waited or gone to the headquarters, but given the possible consequences, I thought it needed a woman’s touch.”

  The words seemed to make her smile. “I understand. We didn’t have any children together. Tom had two from a previous marriage though.”

  That made sense. Mrs. Rachford was no more than a few years older than me, but Tom had easily been in his f
ifties. I wondered if she had been the reason for the end of the first marriage, but there was no way to ask that in this conversation. We were comrades working to solve a particular problem with maternal overtones. Cheating was not going to be part of my questioning, though I would not have stopped her from saying what she pleased.

  “This is our first. His father is Basque, and Andy’s great-grandmother insists that he likes goat milk formula because of his heritage.”

  She asked a few questions about the region and the culture, most of which I could answer without problem. I didn’t know if this was a test to see if I was honest. It was done so casually that it didn’t feel like a pop quiz, but at the same time, I answered a number of questions about the culture that could have easily been checked on the Internet.

  She motioned for me to follow her. Andy and I walked into a rather posh office. The room was appointed with a leather executive chair, a desk that was as large as the work area in one of our trucks, and a beautiful view of a golf course through the floor-to-ceiling windows along the one wall.

  She stopped at one of the oak filing cabinets, motioned for me to sit down, and then began to rifle the drawers of the cabinet. “Tom always wanted to be the public face of the company, but guess who did all the administrative work while the first store was getting off the ground?”

  She pulled three folders from the cabinet, and then sat down at the desk. She looked like she belonged in the leather chair. For what it was worth, I could have seen her committing this crime. She was cool and efficient, the very type needed to put cyanide into a glass of champagne.

  She opened the folders and flipped through a few pages. Without speaking to me, she picked up a phone and dialed. The person at the other end knew who was calling by the time she finished her first sentence. The level of deference and quickness to please were all audible, since she’d put the phone on speaker.

  “Philip, who’s the person who purchases the food products for the stores?”

  “Nick.”

  “Is he there?”

  “No, but I can tell him you called. He’s probably out at the vendors today, Mrs. Rachford.”

  “Give me his number,” she commanded.

  She scribbled down the digits as I committed them to memory. Sometimes being good with numbers could help.

  She clicked on the receiver and then let it up again. The dial tone filled the room. “I’m going to call Nick now,” she said.

  The call went straight to voicemail. She shrugged as she left a very detailed message about what she wanted.

  “If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll call me back shortly. Can I give you a call and let you know what he has to say?” She stood up again, signaling the end of the conversation.

  She walked me to the door, but didn’t offer to answer any questions about the murder or the man who she was rumored to be involved with. I wondered if she even knew that Noel Winston was a suspect. However, the quick chat had been successful in my book, so I was pleased.

  When I left, I chose not to go home immediately. I went down to the location of our taco truck. Carter was busy working, so I waited until he was caught up.

  “Hey, how are you?” I asked, trying to make this seem less like a favor and more like a friendly visit.

  “Good. What’s up?” he asked, eying me suspiciously. When things went well, there were weeks where I didn’t see Carter at all. Now I was visiting him on a regular basis. “Want a taco, or are you just bored?”

  “Neither,” I said. I explained the situation to him. “I was hoping that you might be willing to ask Brianna a few questions about the men who were there last night. What are they like? What gossip had she heard? I’m out of the loop with these people, so no one tells me anything.”

  Carter laughed. “I wonder why. They tell you and the gossip could end up being the motive in a murder case. But yes, I’ll give her a call. It’s long overdue anyway.”

  I smiled at him. “Thanks. I want to find out what’s going on, but I don’t want to get in the way of the police. Danvers is being nice to me for a change,” I explained.

  “You know why, don’t you?” he said. Then he looked at my face and realized in an instant that I didn’t y.

  “Spill. Come on,” I said sternly.

  “She made me promise not to tell, but that was two weeks ago,” he said, by way of explanation. “She’s going to kill me.”

  I took a deep breath. She had to be Sabine, and since Danvers was involved, this secret had to be wedding related. From what Carter had said, I suspected that she was preparing to ask me to be her matron of honor. “You’re going to be running the catering, right?” I asked, trying to let him think that I was already aware of the situation.

  “Yeah, old married people have to do all the work,” he said, giving a customer three tacos and a drink while we talked. “Aaron’s going to help that night.”

  “You know that I already had that figured out. Who else would she ask, but me?”

  “There’s that modesty I enjoy so much,” Carter said as he filled another order. “It had to be me!”

  I let him laugh, but he knew I was right. Sabine spent most of her time with either Jax or her family. I had met a couple of her friends from college, but she really never talked about them much. As I result, I saw myself as the winner by default. Add to it that she had been my maid of honor, and I was the clear front-runner.

  “Just for being like that, I hope she puts you in a bright red dress.” Now Carter was just being wicked, since orange and red dresses are not a redhead’s friend.

  “Well, Land will look great as the best man too,” I said, taunting him.

  Carter’s face grew guarded. It was as if the window shades had been pulled down on his eyes and the garage door had been barricaded over his mouth. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. “We’ll see,” he said after a few seconds.

  I thought about pushing the subject, but as he had pointed out, I really needed to hear it from Sabine. Maybe this was the reason that she hadn’t told me yet—Land wasn’t going to be in the wedding.

  I did a quick mental calculation of the recent cases we had sparred over, and I found nothing that was more or less annoying in my behavior than normal. So why was Land being cut out?

  “I can see the wheels turning. Ask her. Ask her now,” Carter said, sounding more like a parent than an employee at the moment. “Use your words and find out what’s going on. Not everything is an investigation.”

  “Yes, Dad,” I said, and then mixed my metaphors by saluting him.

  “Great. Now, go, or I won’t call my aunt for you,” he said, giving me one of his royal waves.

  ***

  I went home, but my mind was now occupied by the thoughts of the wedding. Land had already left for work, so I couldn’t ask him if he’d heard anything about it. My assumption was that he had not, since usually he told me those sorts of things.

  Land would cover it well, but he would be hurt. How could he not be, when Danvers had been his best man? I cursed the detective under my breath, not wanting one of those four-letter words to be Andy’s first talk.

  I thought about calling Sabine and talking it over, but from the time, I knew that she would just be closing up the truck, and I didn’t want to interrupt that process. It was time-consuming and hard work. I would have to talk to her later.

  When the phone rang, I nearly pounced on it, hoping it was a member of the Mendoza family. However, it was Maggie Rachford.

  “Maeve, is that you?” she said quickly.

  “It is. I wasn’t expecting such a prompt response from you. I know you must have a million things to do with …everything.” I tried to come up with a euphemism for her husband’s murder, but found nothing, which left me with indefinite pronouns.

  “Like I said, it was nice to take my mind off things for a while. Nick didn’t know much. He referred me to someone else. Anyway, the person you’ll want to talk to is Jose Castillo. He’s the manager of the food products di
vision of the stores. He’ll be able to answer questions about what happens to the product as it comes into Bargain Baby, and he’ll be able to put you in contact with the supplier. I’m sure this has to be coming from the people who make the product. Tom was too self-righteous to be involved in a formula-swapping scheme.”

  I was surprised to hear the critique, even if it was pretty mild by most standards. The man had just died yesterday. Someone would have to take over my business for a while if Land were to pass away. And, even if he had been 90, I would still be distraught. I knew that Mrs. Rachford had indicated that they’d just been together for financial reasons, but her lack of remorse over the death was still shocking to me.

  “Thank you so much,” I said, ignoring the comments. “Please let me know about the arrangements. I’d like to pay my respects.” I made a note on the pad on the coffee table to send flowers.

  “I will. Please let me know if you need anything else.” She hung up before I could say anything else.

  I disconnected the call while I was thinking. If she’d gotten the man’s contact information, I had to wonder if he’d been coached on what to say. Even if she had coaxed him to tell a story, how did you cover up a fraud like putting the wrong product in a canister? There were few excuses that would work.

  I called and left a message for Jose Castillo, who apparently wasn’t at his desk. I fed Andy and did some work on the taxes to fill my time. Everything at this moment seemed to be dependent on other people’s schedules.

  I decided that I couldn’t bear it any longer, and I took the phone off the coffee table to call Sabine and straighten out the wedding issues. However, before I could press the first number, an unknown number came up. Most likely it was one of those pesky sales calls, but given the number of people I was meeting at the moment, I decided to answer it.

  “Ms. Mendoza?” a male voice asked. Without any photo attached to the number, I had to imagine what the caller would look like. He sounded older and polished, with good manners. And worried.

  “Speaking,” I replied. “Who may I ask is calling?”