THE REAL GYRO (Food Truck Mysteries Book 4) (3 page)

BOOK: THE REAL GYRO (Food Truck Mysteries Book 4)
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Carter seemed shocked, but I mollified him by telling him that Land had been up late being sick.

“Is he allowed to be around food if he’s sick?” Carter asked. I made a mental note to think of a better excuse for the food truck business. I wondered if my questions were as annoying as Carter’s were to me.

“He’s holding down food now, so I doubt that he’s contagious, but he’s so tired that he’s in no shape to be here today. I do have a sick time policy,” I added, considering myself an enlightened employer.

Carter shrugged and got back to work. Land had worked with him on a few more of the morning tasks before leaving, so we were fine in terms of prepared condiments. I didn’t feel that we’d need many more.

The early morning rush continued without Land, and I certainly felt what it would be like to work without him. Carter was a hard worker and did his best, but this was his first time on his own—and it showed. The customers had to wait longer than normal for their food. There was a little grumbling, but most of them were regulars who asked about Land and the new guy, as they called him, so the time was spent chatting. Most everyone was willing to allow for a few extra minutes, given that Land was sick.

I was glad to call it a day. I noticed that Jax Danvers had not stopped by during the after-lunch lull, and I wondered if he was anywhere as tired as Land was at the moment. I had to assume that they were on some sort of stakeout or business that only operated after hours. I knew that they weren’t out carousing, though they might be pretending to in order to catch a drug dealer or pimp. It was impossible to see the two of them doing some enjoyable event just for the fun of it. If they were working together, it would be because something was wrong.

We finished the shift. I showed Carter what to clean and the procedures for cleaning all the pieces of equipment. It was difficult knowing that it would take the full hour to complete all the cleaning tasks, now that we were down to two people again. I had gotten spoiled.

Carter finished before I did. He said his good-byes and headed out. I spent a few more minutes making sure that the bank deposit was ready to go. I checked the rearview mirror before pulling out onto the street. Janelle’s truck was still open, and Carter was standing at the window chatting with her. Damn it, what was going on?

 

I fumed most of the way home that evening. First Sam and now Carter had been visiting Janelle. I knew that she was attractive, but she was no siren, luring all men to her food truck. Something was going on, and I wanted to know what. Sam, of course, was of little importance in my world, but Carter was another issue altogether. He was going to be working for me and at the truck. If he was in league with Janelle on some scheme, I couldn’t have him on board worrying that he might be there to sabotage my business. I’d worked too hard for that.

On the plus side, he’d worked hard that day and not messed anything up that could have lost us a day’s revenue. He’d been diligent and hard working. Still, perhaps he was just waiting until I let down my guard to cause problems. Granted, there had been a few days over the course of the last year where I hadn’t come in, but I’d always been comfortable with Land working the truck for a day. Carter was still an unknown entity, and trust did not come easily to me.

By the time I got home, I had a good mad going. I knew that offering Janelle the job was no good now. She had her own truck, and I couldn’t imagine moving from freedom to working for someone else. I was beginning to think that I wouldn’t do it either. I pushed that thought out of the way at the moment to think about later.

I couldn’t understand Janelle’s motivation. Was she so angry with me that she’d set about trying to mess with my personal life or business life? It seemed ludicrous, but at the same time, the meetings with people I knew were so blatantly in my face that it seemed like the best explanation. I wouldn’t see Carter until Friday, but I would definitely ask him then about Janelle and his relationship to her. I’d seen him there twice, and I doubted that he liked Greek fare that much.

In the meantime, I had buckets of pent-up frustration, so I decided to investigate the other issue in my life, Land’s sleep problems. I packed up some gear, some food and my iPod and headed back to the Buick to see what was going on.

I put a baseball cap on my head. It wouldn’t fool someone who was staring at me, but frankly I hadn’t worn a baseball cap since the softball league in middle school. So I figured I was probably not going to be the first person they thought of when they saw my attire. Pulling the bill of the cap down over my forehead, it became harder to see my green eyes or the freckles across my nose.

I drove over to Land’s apartment building. I had no idea if he was with family or with someone special, though I doubted the latter. It’s hard to hide the fact that you’re involved with someone. Just ask Sam or Carter.

I parked a little ways down the street, close enough to see the entrance yet far enough away that I wouldn’t be noticed by people entering or leaving. I munched and listened to the first chapters of a business book I’d downloaded from the library as I waited for some answers.

I sat there probably 90 minutes before anything happened. Jax Danvers drove into the lot of the apartment complex. I recognized his car from the time that he’d visited me at my apartment. I doubted if the visit had a similar purpose, since we’d ended up kissing at the end of the evening. I was glad Land wasn’t driving anywhere since he’d been in such bad shape that morning.

I waited some more. This stakeout, sitting in one place for an indefinite amount of time, was not for me. I was about three hours into the book on my iPod, when they pulled out onto the street. I couldn’t tell how Land looked from this distance, but I hoped he had gotten some sleep earlier. Another sleepless night on top of what he’d been like that morning, and I’d be doing the truck entirely by myself tomorrow. I was already making plans to see if I could call Carter to come in as I started my car. I hoped he didn’t have any family responsibilities to take care of.

Fortunately for me, they drove slowly. I wouldn’t have been able to follow them closely and not be seen. My old Buick is dark brown and about the size of a small ship. However, it is paid for and reliable, so I’m hesitant to get rid of it, especially when I was expecting my accounts to be scrutinized if I decided to expand.

I tried to keep my distance, but at the same time, I had no idea where they were going, so I needed to stay fairly close to them in order not to miss lights. Following a car was not as easy as it looked in the movies. We drove down several streets before turning on Syracuse, a side street that connected two busier thoroughfares. Danvers’ car pulled into a spot about halfway down the street.

I drove on past. This was the moment of truth. If either man looked in my direction, I would surely be caught in my stalking activities. However, they were talking to each other, and neither one of them looked my way. I drove around the block, which felt more like a drive around the city given the number of traffic lights and the busy nature of the streets. I pulled back onto Syracuse and parked at the far end. I couldn’t see their car at all, but I knew where they were in relation to me.

I sat there for the better part of two hours. They didn’t get out of the car, and the car didn’t move. Apparently, they were staking out someone while I staked out them. It was the ultimate exercise in futility. At 9:30 p.m., I backed out of the space and drove home. I would have to wait until tomorrow to see what was happening with Land.

Chapter 2

 

As I suspected, Land called in sick, marking the first time in our relationship that he hadn’t shown up for work. I was concerned about what was going on and how long it would last, but I didn’t know how to broach the subject with him. It would be quite likely that I would have to admit that I had followed him and Danvers on their covert operation. That would not be a good start to any conversation.

I wished that I had some sort of telephone book or directory that could tell me the names of the people who lived on Syracuse. While they had parked in front of a particular building, there were a number of apartment buildings and two-family homes on the street, which meant a number of potential subjects. Without having any list of candidates, guessing was the only alternative left to me, and it was a poor choice indeed.

As it was, I would have to do some door-to-door work in order to learn more. The thought didn’t appeal to me. It was time-consuming and meant spending more time on my feet after a grueling day. Plus, the probability of being caught skyrocketed, since the time I had available to ask around would be the time that the residence was under surveillance by Danvers and Land. I couldn’t imagine their reaction if they saw me walking through the neighborhood and knocking on doors. I didn’t have many good options except for the truth at this point, and I didn’t like that.

I’d called Carter before going to bed the night before, so I didn’t have to work alone. His new schedule also gave me a chance to talk to him about Janelle. I wanted to find out more about that situation before determining if I could trust him any further. Land could be an intimidating figure, and I hoped that he might open up more to me if we were alone.

Carter came in about seven. He’d told me that he would be late, because he’d made plans the night before that couldn’t be broken. Apparently I was the only one in the truck who went to bed early and didn’t have a social life. I put up a sign saying that the hot dog sales would be delayed until 8 a.m., which was not a showstopper for the early morning crowd. They bought their coffee and moved on. I usually didn’t sell a hot dog until after 8:15 anyway.

Detective Danvers walked across the square at around nine, looking the worse for his stakeout. I shouted his name, and he strode over to where the truck was parked. On the Land scale of weariness, he was quickly approaching the point where Land had been yesterday. His shirt was untucked in back, and I thought I detected a stain on his collar, which was unlike the normally dapper detective. This had to be a big case for Land to help and for Danvers to be less than spotless.

“You look like shit,” I said. My opening gambit wasn’t subtle, but I wasn’t in the mood for niceties. Besides, if kissing me had been a mistake, I didn’t have to worry about what he thought of me.

“Thanks. I could say the same for you,” he said, giving me a smile. “What do you need?”

I looked him in the eye. “You wouldn’t happen to know why Land is out, would you? He was in bad shape yesterday. He looked as tired as you do.”

Danvers shrugged. “Not my turn to watch him. If you want to know what he’s doing, just ask.”

I had kept my eyes on the detective’s face the entire time. I could see the obvious tells of lying. He had a twitch in his left eye, and he licked his lips twice while we talked. He was not ready to play in this match. I’d spent too much time with him not to recognize the signs of evasion and lies.

“I thought I’d ask you. Don’t expect me to believe that both of you are suddenly tired beyond belief and that it’s coincidence. I won’t buy that; so, both of you are doing something together that is keeping you up all night.”

Danvers stood up a bit straighter and tucked in his shirt. He couldn’t do anything about the stain or the spot under his chin that he’d missed shaving. Geez, he was a mess. “Lots of people don’t get enough sleep. You need to get a hobby, and stop trying to see things that aren’t there.”

I internally fumed. Things had been a bit tense between us ever since we’d kissed. He’d later told me that it was a mistake, and that hadn’t improved our relationship at all. Our banter had taken on a slightly bitter tinge. While part of that was my fault, he’d initiated the kiss and also announced the cessation of any romance. “Maybe your getting my staff involved in your nocturnal activities is my business. I don’t have to look for things that aren’t there, because Land is obviously not here today.”

Danvers looked around the truck to see if I was making this up. Apparently their involvement did not go as far as to discuss daytime schedules, which only served to convince me that this was police business. “Maybe he has the flu,” Danvers suggested. He was too tired to even lie properly.

“Yeah, maybe,” I relented, knowing that browbeating wasn’t going to get me any closer to the truth. If I wanted to know, I would have to continue snooping. There’s more than one way to serve a hot dog, as they say in my business.

Carter worked out well. He followed all of Land’s instructions and did a great job of finishing with them before the truck’s first order of hot dogs. He’d brought a bag of food into the truck with him, and now that he’d finished the condiments specified by Land, he began to cut up other fruits and spices.

I was a bit worried when he pulled out a pineapple, but he deftly diced it and began mixing in some other items. “It’s my own recipe. It’s a pineapple salsa. I thought I’d give it a try, if that okay with you. I always think it’s a good thing to keep new things in front of the customer. That way, they never get bored.”

I had to doubt that our customers would ever grow weary of Dogs on the Roll. Many of them came to hear the latest stories from our adventures, whether it was our time on the reality show, the beheadings down the street, or the dangers of owning a food truck. Boring was just not in our vocabulary.

However, I let him make the salsa, which was delicious by itself and fantastic on the dogs. We had run out of pineapple salsa by 11 o’clock, and I instructed Carter to bring double the ingredients the next time so we could try it out for the lunch rush. He beamed as I complimented him on his creation.

“Could I bring it in tomorrow?” he asked. “I know that I’ve already worked today, but I could move things around to be in tomorrow as well.” I hoped that meant that things were settling down at home. While I admired him for coming home to deal with his family, I wanted to see him have his own life as well.

I agreed with his suggestion. I admired his enthusiasm and didn’t want to rain on his initiative if he was going to be a part of the food truck.

I cleared my throat. If I was going to make him a part of this food truck, I had to remove any doubts I had about him. I trusted Land, because even though he was keeping things from me, those items were not related to the food truck or the business. I knew that he wanted his own truck and that his goals matched mine. I needed to be as sure of Carter if this was going to work. “Yesterday, I saw you talking to Janelle after work,” I said, leaving the comment as a statement and not asking any particularly pointed questions to him.

One of the things that I’d learned from Danvers over the course of a year was to not ask a particular question. If you let a statement hang in the air, then the other person is more likely to tell you more than if you’d asked a pointed question, trying to explain away the statement. Questions typically only get an answer to what was asked. Right now, I wasn’t sure what questions to ask Carter…or Land.

“Oh,” he said, his cheeks turning red. “Yeah, about that—”

I waited. He was embarrassed, which had me intrigued. Could he be another of Janelle’s suitors?

He bowed his head a little. “She offered me a job on her truck.” Carter looked almost pained to tell me this.

“Was this before or after you started working here?” I asked, knowing that I’d violated my own philosophy on questions.

“After. She saw me here and said I must be good if you’d hired me. She offered me a job without even seeing a resume.”

I raged. I knew that something like this had happened. Janelle had seemed very predatory to me, willing to go after what she wanted without regard to others. I wondered for a second if she had asked out Sam because I’d had a fix-up date with him.
I would resolve that later,
I thought. I just had to make sure that her wanting him was not my reason for going out with him again. Despite my business background, I could still be that kid at heart who only wanted the toy when someone else showed interest in it.

However with Carter, I was surprised. I knew that Janelle had an issue with me, but I found it difficult to believe that she would throw away good business principles just to get back at me. It could backfire in a big way.

“So, what now?” I asked, leaving the topic open enough to hear whatever Carter had to say.

“I told her that I wasn’t interested. I’m very happy here, and frankly, I had some doubts about the long-term viability of her truck; so I said thanks, but no thanks.” Carter wasn’t meeting my gaze at this point, and I had to wonder if that was guilt from talking to the competition or if he was lying to me. I didn’t know him well enough to tell the difference. I’d hoped to ease the suspicions I had about Carter, but I’d just managed to bring more doubts to mind.

The rest of the shift went without a hitch. We had a few people ask about the pineapple salsa, and we promised them more tomorrow. Carter was beaming with excitement at the opportunity to introduce new condiments. Land had added a few new condiments, like ginger scallop sauce, over the year as well, and now we had some of the most distinctive fare in the center of Capital City despite being a hot dog vendor at heart. I was glad to know that our tradition of trying new things wouldn’t go away when Land got the second truck running.

I finished counting the money and got a few things ready for tomorrow. I noticed that the ground coffee was running low, and I would have to talk to Land to make sure we had some for tomorrow. That was our single biggest sales item. Plus it would give me a chance to either see him again or talk to him on the phone and find out what was going on.

Carter and I closed up. I put the deposit for the day in my backpack and locked up as he left. “You’re not driving back to the lot?” he asked, surprised.

I shook my head. “I have something that I need to do first,” I told him and started walking to Holding out for a Gyro, Janelle’s food truck.

Carter trotted along behind me, saying, “This isn’t about me, is it? I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“No trouble. I’m just going to make sure that Janelle and I are clear on a few matters.” I kept up the quick pace with Carter practically running to keep up. I was frustrated on many issues, but this was one that I could openly deal with—and I planned on doing so. If she was going to try to mess with my business, I wanted her to know that it wouldn’t be taken lightly.

I stopped short when I got to the truck. Despite it being a little past two o’clock, the truck window was down and closed tight. I couldn’t hear any signs of activity inside. I wondered if Janelle had gone to the restroom—which was an occupational hazard when you work alone—or just parked the food truck here and left. It made no sense to put the truck here and not be open for sales. I knew enough about the business to know that no one could close up for very many days without it affecting the bottom line. Food trucks could make a good living, but it required a lot of time and planning. A good portion of my business was repeat customers, who knew where I was parked and that I would be available every day for coffee and a hot dog. Janelle couldn’t build up that loyalty if she pulled stunts like this.

Some trucks drove around or traveled on a schedule throughout the city. However, many of these trucks had to rely on first time customers all day or people who made a note to stop at a particular truck on a particular day. Being stationary meant that you could build up a following, even if it was not quite the open road that some food truck owners desired.

I knocked on the door to Janelle’s food truck, but there was no response. I walked around to the front of the truck, but the keys weren’t in the ignition either. I circled the food truck twice, wondering if Janelle had closed her window just to avoid talking to me. I had been rather obvious, storming over there with Carter in tow. She would easily figure out what I wanted and how I felt. She could have just closed up to avoid a confrontation.

I was about to start back to my food truck and save my rant for another day, when I noticed a dark stain under the truck. At first, I thought the truck might be leaking oil or some other fluid needed to drive the truck, but as I approached, I noticed the dark coppery tone to the fluid. I’d seen that stain before—at crime scenes.

There was nothing wrong with the truck, but I suspected that there was something wrong with its owner.

BOOK: THE REAL GYRO (Food Truck Mysteries Book 4)
11.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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