A GRAVE CONCERN (Food Truck Mysteries Book 8) (10 page)

They left, and, of course, the lunch rush was intense. We ran out of two condiments, and I wasn’t able to find a minute to prepare a second batch of it. I didn’t blame Sabine. For a new chef, she was great, but she’d underprepared at least two of the condiments. The rush began to slow down, and I swapped back and forth between the prep area and the register.

I was surprised at how long it took them to return. I’d expected a short trip, a quick confirmation of the other man’s identity. He certainly would want to hear about his son’s death and begin to make plans for the funeral.

However, it was nearly an hour by the time that Land and Sabine returned. I could immediately read Land’s expression and knew that the interview had not gone well. He wore a world-weary expression that I knew meant he couldn’t believe the depths to which people would sink.

Sabine didn’t join me in the food truck. She smiled and pointed to her outfit. The form-fitting white dress would have brought in more customers, but the mustard would never come out of it. So the pair stood in front of the food truck and talked to me. The customers had trickled down to nothing, so we had plenty of time to talk.

“So what happened?” I asked, when neither of them spoke first.

“We were stonewalled,” Land said. I waited for an additional explanation, but none was forthcoming. I looked to Sabine for help.

“We were told that Mr. Preston is out of the country and won’t be back for several days,” Sabine said with a sigh. “They wouldn’t be any more specific than that.”

“So what took so long?” I asked, wondering if they’d had lunch on the way back to the food truck.

Sabine gave me a grin. “We did a little snooping. I went in originally by myself. I asked about Mr. Preston and got lies. I left, and Land decided to go in. He pretended to be a buyer, and he overheard Brianna talking to someone else about the situation. Mr. Preston is not out of town. He came back to the gallery and went home.”

“Where is that?”

Land shrugged. “They were talking to each other, not giving me an explanation of what was going on. So I had no idea what the address is.”

“So call Danvers and ask,” I said, wanting to rely on the sometimes ally of ours. “He’ll have it.”

Sabine shook her head violently. “No, I didn’t tell Jax that I recognized that man this morning. He’d know that I lied to him, and that would not be great for our relationship.”

I thought that lying about lying probably fell in the same category of bad relationship habits, but I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t going to get involved. All I knew was that we couldn’t prove the owner of the gallery was lying to us, since Sabine was too busy lying to the police.

I finished off the shift while Land and Sabine went home. She was going to try again to talk to Mr. Preston. She had a business card that he’d kindly proffered, and she thought there was a cell number on it. Land went home to get ready for his shift. We agreed to meet at my apartment after he closed up for the night. We’d spent a lot of time working on the case, but we hadn’t spent much time just to relax and enjoy each other’s company.

I dropped off the food truck at the secured lot, and headed over to Carter’s home. I hadn’t been there often, but I knew it from the rare times when I picked him up for work. The house was in a working-class neighborhood of small box houses that lined each side of each street for blocks. For all the unique and interesting parts of Capital City, this area could be depressing in its uniformity and breadth.

I pulled up in front of the house, hoping that Carter would be home. Land had confirmed with Danvers that the dead man from this morning was Milton Preston, the missing Preston black sheep and Carter’s father.

I tried to prepare him for the announcement earlier when we spoke, but now that we had confirmation, I wanted to be the one to tell him. I didn’t know if the police had made the connection to Carter and his family, but nothing would be worse than learning about your father’s death on the nightly news.

Aaron actually answered the door when I knocked. He looked a bit harried, but he gave me a smile. “Sorry, I’m a bit out of breath. I’m not used to taking care of three kids. Carter had them all stay home today because of their mom, and they’re quite a handful.” He called Carter who came to the door, cradling who I assumed was the six-year-old.

“What’s up?” he asked.

I motioned that I wanted to talk to him alone, and he handed the girl off to Aaron and followed me out onto the walk.

“I wanted to tell you that the police have verified that it was your father who died in Government Square this morning. I imagine it will be on the news, and I didn’t want you to hear it from that source. Plus, I didn’t know if the kids knew, or if they would understand if they heard it, either.” I felt like I was rambling a bit, but I felt so much pain for him that I wasn’t sure how to express it clearly.

He nodded. “I’m sure the family will keep it discreet. They always do.”

“Okay, but your grandfather is in hiding at the moment, so I don’t know what will happen.”

Carter laughed. It wasn’t a happy sound, by any means; it was a bark that sounded odd. He made a face when he heard the sound. “Typical of them. Hide from the source of trouble.”

I widened my eyes. “Is that what they did with you?” I asked. I wasn’t trying to pry, but at the same time, I had a grave concern that Carter could be accused of murder. He’d been at the scene of a crime where his uncle had been killed and he’d been at the scene today. I wasn’t sure of today’s cause of death. It had appeared natural, but I wasn’t sure if there were poisons that could make it seem like a heart attack. Anything was possible.

“Yeah,” he looked at me and then turned to look at nothing in particular. “I don’t normally talk about this, but you apparently want to know—I’m guessing for the investigation. You’ve been so stinking nice to me, that I feel I owe you one.”

“You don’t have to,” I started, but he cut me off.

“My mom and dad dated about 20 years ago. It’s the same old story. He was well off, and she was working her way through school. They dated. She got pregnant, and the family gave her a small settlement to make it—me—go away. So she did. My mom said she wanted the man and not the money, but she took the cash since she wasn’t going to get the guy.” He gave me a small wry smile that told me he’d explained this before.

“But the younger kids?” I asked. There was at least a 12-year difference in age between Carter and his next youngest sibling.

“He came back. It was about 10 years after I was born and my mom was paid off. He told her that he’d been young and gutless, but that he was back and wanted to make things work. They started dating and then moved in together. I’m not sure why but they never married. My mom said that he was still afraid of being caught by his family, and she didn’t want the hassle of being forced into another settlement. They had two more kids together before the shit hit the fan.”

“What happened?” I asked. I hated to admit that the story was compelling.  I was rooting for the couple, even though I knew the ending to this story.

“A few things happened at once. My mom got pregnant again, and she decided that it was time to tie the knot. She found out from the newspapers that he was engaged to another woman, some socialite. And then she learned that he’d been drinking heavily all this time. She caught up with him one day after they’d split up. Ironically, she was at the hospital for an OB/GYN appointment, and he was there for a liver condition. He was told that he had to stop drinking or he’d eventually die of it.” Carter said the words without emotion. I couldn’t tell if he was holding in the emotions or if he didn’t have any other feelings to express at this point.

“And that was it?” I asked, feeling somewhat disappointed at the anticlimax. I’d expected a big scene or something. Instead, it had seemed to fizzle out.

“Yeah, she went on without him. A couple of times, she tried to contact him about child support or something for the kids, but either he was broke, or the family didn’t know where he was.” Carter’s gaze was still fixed on some point in the distance.

“Well, we’d talked about inviting him to the funeral, but now that he’s gone…” I paused, trying to think of a more polite way to finish the sentence.

Carter cut in. “You want to know if we should tell any of the Prestons now?”

I nodded. “I don’t want to be crass, but you’re definitely next of kin now, and it’s quite likely that there will be a settlement of some sort from his estate.”

Carter barked another laugh. “Aaron already suggested that, but I can’t imagine that he had a cent. I mean, he was living on the streets. How much money could he have had?”

“I don’t know, but you might want to make contact with the family, see if you can attend the funeral,” I suggested. I wanted Carter’s appearance at the food truck that morning to appear as though it was more helpful and less like a means for murder.

“You can do that if you want. I’m just not up to dealing with that side of the family yet. I mean, if there was money, I would have preferred to spend it on helping my mom get well, rather than get it now, when it can’t do anyone any good.” A tear trickled out of his eye, and I decided that I’d best leave. I gave him a long hug and drove home.

***

Land showed up a few hours later. It must have been a tough day, because he’d apparently stopped at a local Chinese place and brought dinner. I was a bit shocked, until he explained, “I’ve been talking to Danvers, and I was running late.”

We got the meal together and began to eat. Of course, he was not free with his answers about what he and Danvers were talking about, so I began to ask.

He took it in stride, answering the questions as fast as they came. “They were starting the autopsy, which is why he had to go. I was offered the chance to sit in on it, but I thought I’d rather see you.”

I took the compliment with a smile and ate some more of the Hunan chicken with chopsticks. Land, of course, was a pro at using the proper utensils, but I had to attempt each bite multiple times to get it in my mouth.

“So what are they thinking?” I asked.

Land shrugged without losing any of the rice on his chopsticks. “Actually, I was thinking. I had Sabine tell Danvers all about her ID of the other man. He was annoyed with her, but glad that she’d come clean.”

“So what does that do?” I asked. I wondered why Land was playing matchmaker in this situation. Land had warned me on many occasions to be careful of Danvers and not to trust him. Why was Sabine dating him if this was his attitude towards the man?

“Danvers stopped over at the art gallery after Sabine came clean. Mr. Preston was there and answered a few questions about his movements.” Land raised an eyebrow. I knew he was suggesting that the lie was worth mentioning.

“Did he say where he’d been in the morning?” I asked.

“At the gallery, but that directly contradicts what Sabine said, so Danvers is taking a dim view of Mr. Preston at the moment. That’s why they’re rushing the autopsy.” Land finished the last of his vegetarian fare and cracked open a fortune cookie.

As if on schedule, Land’s phone rang. He looked at the screen and answered it. “Yeah.” That was his idea of a greeting.

He listened for a few minutes and then clicked off. I waited for him to speak, but he took his time in responding. “They just finished the autopsy. The family identified the body a little while ago. The deceased was definitely Milton Preston.”

“Deceased?” I asked. If Land wasn’t using the word
victim
, it was because it no longer applied. Despite English being his second language, he was one of the most precise grammarians I knew.

“Enlarged heart, bad liver, kidneys failing. There wasn’t much left that functioned properly,” Land replied. “It was natural causes.”

I took the words and thought about them for a few minutes. Even though Milton’s death was caused by natural causes, Hamilton’s most certainly had not been. I was going to have to refocus on Hamilton’s’ death and ignore the other death, even though that one was the death that likely involved Carter’s future and the lies of the family patriarch.

I took a deep breath. “So we’re back to where we were,” I said finally.

Land smiled, leaned across the table, and kissed me. “Not at all. When you started on this case, you had three distinct sets of suspects: the family, the business, and the campaign. Now with the other son’s death, it certainly seems like the motive lies within the family. So you’ve made a lot of headway in this case so far.”

He handed me a fortune cookie. I cracked it, and the hard exterior crumbled into pieces. “Be careful what you wish for,” it read. I ignored the message as I pulled Land in for another kiss.

***

The next day was the day before the funeral. Sabine showed up early and had the prep done long before the coffee drinkers switched to solid food. Much as I liked Carter, he could be a slacker at times. I realized that he was in way over his head with the responsibilities he had to bear, but at the same time, he added work to me.

I was still waiting for the irresponsible, immature sister that Land spoke of to rear her head at the truck, but so far I’d not seen any of that. Being an only child, I had always wished for a sister, and this was as close as I was likely to get to having one. Land had an older sister somewhere in Europe, but I’d heard nothing of her except for an occasional comment.

“So I heard you fessed up to Danvers last night?”  I asked after things were under control for the morning.

“Yes, Jax is so tedious about the truth sometimes,” she said. “I think he believes that I was enamored of Mr. Preston and his money, but that’s not true.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” I agreed, though I was a bit baffled. Who would pick Mr. Preston who was old enough to be her grandfather when she had a very attractive and rather buff policeman boyfriend available?

“He’s going to interview Mr. Preston more today at the police station.” She pointed across the square as if I didn’t have any idea where the police station was. I’d been there too many times to not know its location intimately.

The shift went quickly. I wanted to keep an eye out for Mr. Preston, but I didn’t see any signs of him. Brianna Preston did show up after the lunch rush, making me wonder if she had taken lessons from Detective Danvers.

“Maeve, do you have a moment?” she asked. She was dressed impeccably in a business suit that I would have loved to have owned, even though it would have remained in the closet for the foreseeable future. “I need to speak to you,” she said as she eyed Sabine. “It’s a delicate matter.” I wasn’t sure whether Sabine was getting the eye because of the situation with Brianna’s father or just because Brianna didn’t want any prying ears around.

I exited the food truck. Sabine gave me a thumbs-up to let me know that everything would be under control. We walked off to one of the benches near where the death had occurred yesterday. I plopped down, but Brianna wiped a place clean with a tissue.

“So what can I help you with?” I asked as she finally took a seat next to me.

She looked around. “Is this where it happened?”

I raised an eyebrow. “You mean your brother’s death? Yes, it was.”

“I wish I could have been here,” she said, scanning the area for a second time.

“It doesn’t seem like it would have done any good,” I offered. “His death was from natural causes. You couldn’t have done anything. He was dead before we could even administer life-saving measures.”

She drew a deep breath. “I know, but there are things I would have liked to have asked him. Now I won’t ever be able to.”

I nodded. “Death cuts off the chance for things to be explained and resolved.” I thought of Carter and how he’d never be able to ask his father why he’d left or where he’d been. I would definitely not be satisfied to leave things undone like this, though I knew I’d have no choice in the matter. “What would you have liked to have asked him?”