THE REAL GYRO (Food Truck Mysteries Book 4) (8 page)

BOOK: THE REAL GYRO (Food Truck Mysteries Book 4)
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However, my mind kept bouncing back to the comment about not being much for the police. Is that what Danvers thought—that I didn’t like policemen? Had he dumped me unceremoniously because he had thought I was going to give him the old heave-ho? I knew men like that. At the first sign of skittishness on the part of their date, they dumped the woman first, so they could maintain a record of “never being dumped,” as if that was a category in the
Guinness Book of World Records
.

Danvers didn’t wait for me to answer him, which was good because I was deep in my own thought processes. He walked out the door with a small head nod, and I sat down and looked at the photos again. He had been right about one thing. Sam was the only one of those people without a good reason to be downtown during the day. I wasn’t sure what that meant.

I waited about an hour to call Land to see if he’d recognized anyone that I’d missed. I had every reason to doubt that he’d add much to the conversation. He kept to himself during work hours, preparing and serving the hot dogs and side dishes. So he might recognize a few faces, but I doubted that he knew much about them personally. That didn’t mean that he didn’t attract business. There were a number of women, young and old, who came by to ogle him. Either he didn’t notice, or more likely, didn’t care.

His voicemail picked up, and I left a quick message telling him the people I’d seen and recognized from the photos. I didn’t ask him to call back, and he didn’t that night.

 

 

I showed up at the truck the next morning expecting Land to have been out doing more surveillance, but he texted me early to tell me that he’d picked up the food truck. I drove downtown and parked in my usual garage spot. Land was busy preparing condiments when I arrived, and he barely looked up.

Even so, I could see that he wasn’t tired. I was a bit confused as to why he hadn’t answered my call the evening before if he’d been home and resting.

But of course, being Land, he didn’t even mention that when he greeted me. “How are you today?” he asked instead.

That was almost a conversation for him, and so I decided to play along. “Not bad,” I answered, keeping an eye on him. “How are you doing?”

He just nodded instead of an answer, but it was clear that he was rested and feeling better than he had been before. I took his friendliness toward me as an indication that he appreciated the consideration I’d given him when he was so tired.

“I tried to call you last night,” I added, thinking I might get a response out of him.

“Yeah, I was out. What did you want?” He continued cutting up the condiments as he usually did.

“Danvers stopped by last night—” I started, but he cut me off.

“And how did that go?” He raised an eyebrow in my direction. Land had been clear on more than one occasion that I was not to trust Danvers. The thought that we spent any time outside of the food truck hours in each other’s company always elicited a response from him.

“I went over the photos and pointed out the people I had seen talking to Janelle. I don’t think it added up to much though. I couldn’t see any of those people passing secrets to anyone.” In the case of Henry, he didn’t even keep any secrets from me.

“Huh,” he responded. His lack of a decent response suggested that he knew something that I didn’t, and he wasn’t particularly willing to share it. So, either I would have to wheedle it out of him, or he would clam up before I could learn more.

“So what about you?” I continued. I wasn’t going to play games. If I wanted to know something, I would take the direct approach. “Did you recognize anyone in the photos?”

“Your boyfriend,” he smirked. “A couple of customers. That old guy who tells you his life story every few days, the one with the dog.” By boyfriend, he’d meant my fix-up date, and I recognized his description of Henry as well. If those were the only ones, then he had recognized fewer people than I had.

I still suspected something was up. “That’s it?”

His gaze met mine. “Those were the only photos that I recognized, and I reported them all to Danvers too, but he didn’t come by and discuss them with me. He just took my information over the phone.”

The constant needling regarding Danvers made me certain I was missing something. He was trying to keep my mind from figuring out what. I went back over the non-Danvers statements and realized something. “How did you know what Sam looked like?” I asked. Land had seen Sam from afar, but I certainly had never taken the time to show Land photos of him, since I truly didn’t expect it to go anywhere. Either Danvers had mentioned it, or Land had a memory of faces that was extraordinary.

I got a quick flash of a smile. “He showed up at Janelle’s one night while we were on surveillance. I recognized his face again, and mentioned it to Danvers, who told me about your connection to the man. That’s all.” He shrugged.

I was distracted by the thought of Sam going to Janelle’s apartment. Their connection had to be much closer if he was visiting her at home. I wondered what they had had to talk about. Had it been whatever had set him off when he saw her at the food truck? I knew that I’d have to find another way to learn his connection to Janelle. However, that seemed minor to whatever was making Land so cheerful. He’d found something big and was challenging me to find it out.

My mind raced. If it hadn’t been that, then why was Land being like this? He had shared the names of the people he had recognized. Could it be something with the people that he didn’t recognize? I wondered, but I would have no way of finding out without reviewing all of the photos again. I doubted that Land would be this slippery about a situation that was unlikely to happen. He was ducking something that I could figure out if I put enough thought into the matter.

If it hadn’t been someone whose photo he’d seen, then had it been someone whose photo he had not seen? Suddenly, I realized what Land had grasped. Carter had been at Janelle’s food truck at least twice that I knew of, and yet there was not a single photo of him in the stack I’d been shown. While it could have been that the police already knew who he was and why he was there, they could have easily IDed the others without our help. So had Carter somehow evaded the surveillance by the police, or was he in a special category that didn’t need to be photographed, like maybe the CIA?

“Carter,” I said, meeting his gaze again. “There weren’t any photos of Carter in the stack that Danvers gave to me last night.”

Land just nodded.

“Do you think they already know who he is from the food truck?” It seemed unlikely. Danvers might have seen Carter at the truck, since our newest worker only came in every other day. I doubted that Danvers would have been able to place Carter out of context in that way. It was the same way as when I ran into a high school friend on my college campus or the local mall.

“Nope,” said the man of many words as he put the condiments out for the customers. “At least I got a recipe out of him before he left.” I knew that Land had to be thinking that if Carter left, the plans for the second food truck would leave with him. “And no, I didn’t see him during the surveillance either. He didn’t come by Janelle’s home…while we were watching it anyway.”

“So you’re thinking that Janelle didn’t try to hire him for her truck?”

Land sighed. “Don’t ask me. Why don’t you call and see about the financials from her food truck? They should be about ready by now. It’s been a few days.”

He was right of course. It had been a few days since I’d spoken to Janelle’s parents, and her mother had promised me a copy of the financial documents prior to a possible offer on the truck. Those records would give me an idea of what the truck was making and if it would be a good idea for me to buy it.

I dialed the number, but of course with the day I was having, no one answered. I left a message and hung up.

Chapter 8

 

By the time we’d cleaned the truck at the end of the shift, Janelle’s mother had returned my call. We made plans to get together after I was finished at the bank, and I looked forward to getting done so that I could determine whether or not the purchase made sense. I was beginning to think that I’d caught some of Land’s enthusiasm for this expansion.

While I now ran a food truck, not long ago I’d been getting my degree in business. As a result, I’d analyzed more than a few spreadsheets in my time. My father, who had worked in accounting for a lifetime, was still the expert in the family, but unless I ran across something questionable, I would be able to learn the state of the business.

I dropped the deposit at the bank and headed back to the land of wealthy families. I was still dressed in my food truck clothes, but since their daughter had also operated a truck, I knew they were familiar with the attire.

Janelle’s mother opened the door this time. She looked me over once and sighed, which said all that she needed to express about her daughter’s profession and my own appearance. She was carrying a large manila envelope in one hand. She thrust it toward me as if it was garbage.

“I was assured by our accountant that these should satisfy you regarding the business.” She looked down at the papers for a second with an emotion that looked remorseful before she brought her head up and looked at me again.

I took the packet without a word. I turned my head slightly and saw the photo of Sam again. While I was slightly concerned that Mrs. Nolan could tell Sam about our encounter, I decided to risk it. “Is that Sam?” I said, doing a double take with my neck swivel.

The woman gave me a long, cold stare without speaking for a moment. The silence grew uncomfortable. “How do you know Sam?” she asked finally.

“His mother is a friend of my mother,” I replied somewhat honestly. “It’s such a small world, isn’t it? I guess you must know him well, if he’s in your family photos.” I beamed at her to show that I had no motivation to lie about this.

Again there was a long pause. “He was engaged at one point to my daughter, Janelle. I’m surprised she had never mentioned it to you.”

I took a deep breath. “No, she didn’t. I wasn’t aware she’d been engaged. We were more work friends. We mainly discussed food service, business tips, and those types of things.” I tried to center myself as I continued to spin this web. I didn’t want to trip myself up or stumble on my own tongue. I’d known little about Janelle outside of her pushiness and her food truck.

“Yes, they ended it a few months ago. I guess I should really take away that photo, but Janelle just looks so pretty and happy there that I leave it.” The words had an effect on her, and I thought for a moment that she was going to cry. However, she managed to pull herself together, and she looked at me again.

Sam had discussed his romantic history in general terms during our outings. I called them that because I still refused to call them dates. Yet in his discussions he had never mentioned being serious with anyone, much less being engaged. Mrs. Nolan had not specified who had broken off the relationship, but I was guessing that it had been Janelle. Otherwise, the photo would have most definitely been stored. No woman wants to see photos of a man who dumped her before the wedding. Would that be a motive for Sam to kill Janelle? Had he been so upset or jealous that he’d killed her? He didn’t seem the type, but I believe you don’t know a person until you’ve seen them in love.

“These are copies, so you don’t have to bring them back, but obviously these are only for you or your business manager. I would prefer that you kept my daughter’s financial situation to yourself, especially until a sale goes through.” Her manner was back to the cold hard façade I’d seen before.

I nodded. “I don’t plan to give out copies. These are solely for use in determining whether or not we want to buy the business.” I was planning on giving copies to Land and my father. I had no desire to give this information to the police. I knew that if they wanted it, they could get a warrant and learn more about the business than what I could learn from Mrs. Nolan’s generosity.

She thanked me again and showed me to the door. I made a quick buzz by the local copy shop and had three extra sets made. I always made an extra set of documents, in case they were lost. I’d done a group project in college where we’d relied on a member to keep the financial worksheets. She’d lost them after our first meeting, and we had no way to recover all that information except to go back and ask the company for another set. The professor had not been pleased by the appearance of incompetence. After that, I kept doubles of most everything.

I finished my copies, stuffed my set into my backpack and stuffed the rest in the Nolan’s manila envelope. I drove home absent-mindedly thinking about what I had in the refrigerator that did not involve cooking. I had little use for a kitchen after working in a food truck all day.

I pulled my car into the parking space in front of my apartment. While it was hardly an upscale townhouse, the food truck had allowed me to move out from under my parents’ roof. The layout of the apartment complex was a semi-circle of apartments facing a parking lot. The complex had once been a motel, which had been renovated for apartments. The general layout of the place reminded me of the Bates Motel, and it was only slightly less cheerful.

I got out of my car, collected my gear, and was promptly knocked over. I started to protest my treatment, but when I looked around, the person who had charged me was already gone. I had a splotch of blood on my left hand, where my palm had hit the concrete hard. I wasn’t hurt bad, but I would have to put some antiseptic on it.

I started picking up things from the sidewalk. I grabbed my bag and keys, but when I went to look for the manila envelope, it was gone.

I looked around for a minute, thinking that the envelope might have been knocked under the car in the collision, but it was nowhere to be found. The envelope was far too heavy to have blown away, even if there had been a breeze that evening.

I finally gave up on it and went inside. I locked the door and double-locked it, realizing what had happened. The envelope had been taken by someone who had not wanted me to read it. The only likely person to not want me to reopen the food truck would be the person who had killed Janelle, and I shuddered at the thought that I had been that close with the killer. Why had he let me live when he’d already killed once?

I thought about calling Land or Danvers, but Land would likely not answer, and Danvers would want to take custody of the financial records. Someone obviously thought something was contained within those reports that was worth mugging me for them. I cursed myself that I hadn’t been more careful in getting out of the car. I would have only needed to have looked out at the rear view mirror to see if anyone was around. I needed to be vigilant if this case was going to get rough.

I figured that I would be safe with the papers for tonight. I’d stuffed one copy of the financials in my backpack, which meant that the thief could not know how many copies I’d made. He had the originals and the copies I’d made for my dad and Land, so he’d think he was safe. I didn’t plan on letting him think any differently.

I made myself a cup of coffee and sat down to look at the financials.

 

The first thing I noticed was that Janelle had received a large influx of cash to start her business. The source of the money wasn’t shown, so I’d have to ask more about that. No good businesswoman wants to think that outside capital had to be pumped into the business to make it work. That’s fraud. It made me think more about her threats to me. She obviously had some backers who were able to pull together large sums of cash in a short period of time. I wondered why she had wanted to work for me, if she’d had access to that type of money. I made a note on the side of the page and kept going.

I looked at the profit and loss statements. I was genuinely impressed with how things had been going for Holding Out for a Gyro. The food truck had begun to make a profit in the second month of operations. Apparently there was enough of a market for two food trucks downtown by the Government Square. That eased my fears that Land and I would be too close in proximity to each other for our businesses to prosper. I liked the idea of him being close enough to share resources and help when needed. It reduced what we would need for emergency situations.

The profit wasn’t large, but by all standards an early profit is a good thing. Most restaurants and food service operations close their doors in the first three years of business. If Janelle was making a profit, things boded well for the food truck’s future.

I did notice that the profit wasn’t large enough to hire Carter. So either his story had been fabricated, or she was desperate enough to hurt my business that she would take a loss. I wondered where she could get the money to sustain a loss like that. Could she have gone back to her investor, or would it come out of her own pocket?

I ran through the expenses as well. I wanted to see if there were any areas where I could combine this truck’s expenses with my own to make us work more efficiently. I highlighted a few areas where our use of onions, buns and other ingredients could be combined for a potential savings. I also ran through Janelle’s expenses where she might have been paying too much for a service. There was only one, her parking costs were far higher than mine were. I marked that and went back to the spreadsheets.

I stopped as I noticed an unexplained expense. It appeared to be a monthly payment to an unlabeled bank account. There was no explanation given or any name provided for the account, just an account number where $400 disappeared to every month. I did mark that for Danvers, thinking that he would be a better choice to find out information about electronic transfers than I would.

I puzzled over this for a moment. I thought that this incident showed that Janelle’s parents were likely out of the running for the killer. They would not have provided any information to me about the food truck that might implicate their family in any way. I suspected that this bank transfer was related to her other occupation as spy. Was she helping to fund the groups that wanted to hurt Algeria?

I had no idea if the crime was personal or due to her involvement in espionage. That gave me two sets of suspects to investigate. I thought about this for a while, and decided that I would try to focus on the personal side of the murder. To be blunt, I had no way of finding out information on the passing of documents and material from people in the US to other countries. It wasn’t possible. I didn’t have the contacts or the network to do so.

Therefore, I decided to concentrate on the personal matters. These were things that I knew and could get my hands on. I had already found an ex-boyfriend in Sam, and hopefully cleared the parents of being involved in the espionage work. I was making good progress in that arena. So I knew which path to take.

The only bad thing about that path was that it included how someone got in and out of the food truck without leaving an open exit from the truck. I would have to find out if there was only the one set of keys or if copies had been made. I would only be able to trace if Janelle had had keys made, not where they ended up, but that would be a start. If someone had made a set of keys without her knowledge or permission, that would be another matter entirely. I would have no way of telling that. Capital City had far too many locksmiths for me to hunt down an unknown person’s activity with one particular locksmith.

If the food truck had not been locked by the keys on the way out, then I was stymied. There were only a few means of egress from a food truck: the back door, the door to the cab and the serving window. The two doors had been locked from the inside, and the window had been chained on the inside. So it boiled down to either having keys or a secret way out of the truck. I had to say that even though I was a bit shaken from my earlier encounter, there was a small thrill at the thought of a secret passage out of the truck. It sounded so mysterious and adventurous.

 

Carter showed up the next morning. I hadn’t really thought of a way to broach the topic of Janelle with him again. I knew of no way to ask Carter why he hadn’t been photographed by the police, speaking to a known courier. If he was involved, he would lie about it. If he wasn’t involved, ultimately he would have no idea. In either case, I would be alerting him to the fact that the police had been monitoring Janelle’s truck and that I had him labeled as suspicious.

I did make a note to ask the Nolans about Carter. If Janelle had really been thinking of adding staff, which didn’t look promising given the numbers, then she should have a file related to HR or hiring. She would have interviewed other people and saved their materials as well. I had a hunch there was more to the connection with Carter than I knew about.

I was first to the truck and texted both Carter and Land. Carter showed up shortly after I arrived, but six a.m. rolled around, and Land had not called or shown up. I was concerned. Land was nothing if not punctual and responsible. I thought back to my encounter last night and wondered about him.

I called his number, but no one answered. I was panicking slightly by now, so I called Detective Danvers as well. He answered, but he was openly annoyed that I was calling him to check on Land. “We didn’t have a sleepover. How would I know where he is?” Danvers asked with a sneer in his voice.

I sighed. I whispered loud enough for Danvers, but not loud enough for Carter. “I know he’s been doing surveillance for you. He told me. I thought that maybe he was working with you last night and something happened.”

BOOK: THE REAL GYRO (Food Truck Mysteries Book 4)
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