JUSTICE Is SERVED (Food Truck 7) (2 page)

I just stood there for a moment, trying to process what I was seeing. Someone had written “help,” but why? It seemed more logical that if someone was in trouble that they would merely lean over to the person next to them and ask for assistance. Instead, they had written the word large enough to be seen by me – or by anyone else who went by.

My thought processes were trying to understand this. My first thought was that the writer had to be the last person at the table. Otherwise the other guests would be asking why “help” was being written across the tablecloth, which would defeat the entire purpose of the message. So that would help me find out who was behind this. I would have to ask Gina who sat at this table, and if they were having any kind of problems at home.

I wondered if the guest had been drunk and thought that this was an appropriate joke for the caterer who also dabbled in crime. It would be a twisted but effective jab at some of my past adventures in crime. Since Gina had been involved in at least one matter as well, it was likely that the people here had heard about that case and my solution to it.

“First thing you need to do is blot it dry, so that it doesn’t stain the rest of the material,” Land said. I wanted to ask how he knew about mustard stains, but decided that it would be better not to ask. When he wasn’t explaining guns and explosives, Land had an alarming amount of mundane knowledge regarding household chores.

“Then what?” I asked, curious to see if he knew the entire process.

“Dishwashing soap and white vinegar. Works every time.” He shrugged to indicate that he thought everyone knew this piece of information. Either I’d missed that day in school, or I’d not eaten enough mustard in my day.

I grabbed the cloth, but not before taking a few photos of the tablecloth. I would either have to replace it or explain to the rental agency why it was ruined, and documentary proof might be helpful, especially if I tried to contact the person who had done this.

I stormed off in the direction of the restrooms. I had hoped to get out of here early enough to have a romantic dinner with Land. I hadn’t eaten anything during the reception except for a small piece of cake. After making hot dogs for 100, I hadn’t really felt like eating my own cooking. We had discussed going to a small bistro that had opened recently. It was far more fun to check out the competition when Land was with me.

Of course, the women’s restroom was locked. The park closed down fairly tightly at dusk, and the sun was just tucked away under the horizon. I sighed and looked around. I wasn’t too concerned about traffic, so I tried the men’s room. No one was in sight, so I was fairly certain that I wasn’t interrupting anyone. Just in case, I knocked before entering.

The plain cement walls and tiled floor echoed the squeak of the door opening. If I’d been a superstitious person, I would have worried about the noise and the general isolated feeling. It had all the makings of a horror movie. However, I was made of sterner stuff, like wanting my entire deposit back on the linens. So I pushed on.

I walked to the sink and pulled a number of paper towels from the dispenser. I blotted at the stain, wondering who would have done this. Was this a real plea for help or a hoax perpetrated by someone with a wasteful sense of humor? I leaned towards the latter. Given the number of murders I’d been involved with, people would have known about my exploits and perhaps poked fun at a young woman who had experienced more death than some undertakers.

Given my assumptions, I wasn’t particularly worried about the guests at the wedding. I would mention the incident to Gina, who would share a laugh with me. I finally thought I’d gotten most of the moisture out of the cloth and looked around. The park district had definitely not gone all out with the facilities. The mirrors over the sink were silver-framed, but they’d grown tarnished to the point that the frames were now dark. I looked at my reflection and saw how tired I looked. Catering events would not be in the future for Maeve Kinkaid, I thought.

I looked over my shoulder and started. The body of a man lay on the floor just inside of the handicapped stall. The angle of the mirror was just so that I could see inside the stall if the door was open.

He wasn’t moving. Great, I thought, this is just what I needed. A drunk guest who had been left by his friends. He’d probably come in here to use the restroom and had passed out before he could leave.

I turned around and walked over to him. I gave his foot a kick, since I was still holding the tablecloth. He still didn’t move. I carefully put the cotton cloth over the edge of the stall wall and leaned down. Up close, he didn’t look healthy. His color was bright red with blue around his lips. That was never a good color. I took a wrist between my fingers and felt for a pulse. There wasn’t one. I put my fingers on his throat, like I’d seen people do in the movies, but there still wasn’t any pulse. His skin was cold and clammy.

I snatched the tablecloth and sprinted back to the food truck. I was breathing heavy by the time I returned.

“What’s up with you? Did you run all the way here?” Land looked slightly amused at my desire to leave the park quickly. Of course, he would think it had to do with his irresistible charm.

I took a deep breath. “There’s a dead man in the men’s restroom. I wanted to get away from there as soon as I could.”

“What were you doing in the men’s room?” Land asked, as if that was the most important aspect of this problem.

“The woman’s room was locked,” I explained. “So I went into the men’s room. I just wanted a paper towel, and no one was around. I figured I’d be fine there.”

He nodded, understanding my practicality. “So you saw a dead man when you walked in. Gun shot? Knife wound?”

I shook my head. “Strangulation maybe, but I didn’t see any palm prints around his throat.”

“Asphyxiation, then.” He nodded. “It could be a natural death.” He opened the door to the food truck, stepped down, and joined me. “Let’s go check this out.”

The park was darker now, and I was glad to have his company on the walk back to the restrooms. They were just out of sight of the food truck, on the far side of a slight rise in the ground. I would not have wanted to go back to the restroom alone, knowing what waited for me there. I moved a bit closer to Land, and he gave me a kiss on the top of the head.

He pushed open the door to the restroom and went in first. I followed along behind him. Land was already hunched down by the body and checking out the corpse.

He looked serious. “Not natural causes. He’s got a lump on his head that happened before death. He may have choked to death on something. Or knowing you and your penchant for murders, he might have been poisoned. If I had to make a guess on a poison, I’d say cyanide.”

Part of my mind wanted to ask him how he could possibly know all this from a quick examination, but this wasn’t the time to talk about his past or previous skills. I was standing in a men’s room with a dead body, and that took precedence.

“Do you want to call Danvers?” I asked, not really wanting to call the detective who had worked against us on a number of murder cases.

“We’re not going to call Danvers,” Land said.

“We can’t just leave this guy here,” I protested, though part of me thought running away would be a great idea. “That’s a crime.”

“Danvers doesn’t have jurisdiction. We’re in Siever Park, which is outside the city limits. So we have to call the county cops, not the Capital City guys.” Land pulled out his phone and started scrolling though his contacts. Who keeps the phone numbers of the various local police on their phone?

He looked at me. “You’re going to want to call Gina,” Land said. “She needs to know.”

“Land, it’s her wedding night. She has better things to do than worry about a dead guest.” I waggled my eyebrows and then regretted it. I’d picked up that bad habit from Carter, the man who worked with me on the food truck. He’d seemed to have perfected the maneuver since Land and I had started dating.

“Don’t you recognize him?” Land asked, almost as a challenge. “Forget that he’s dead and take a closer look.”

I bent over to take a closer look at the face of the man, but I didn’t recognize him. Honestly, I’d been busy serving food, and I hadn’t paid attention to many of the guests. Since I was happily ensconced in a relationship, I had no desire to check out the other men at the wedding. So I couldn’t see what Land was getting at.

Before death, he would have been an attractive man. He obviously took good care of himself, though he was a bit doughy around the middle. Maybe he’d let himself go since college. His once-handsome face was framed by styled hair and his beard was close-cropped and well-groomed. Yet I was obviously missing what Land saw about him.

I stood up and shrugged. “I still don’t know why I need to call Gina. Do you think he’s family?” I didn’t see a resemblance to Gina. He was dark-haired, and Gina was a natural blonde.

Land shook his head. He pointed to the boutonniere, a single red rose, and said, “Member of the wedding party. Best man, if I remember correctly. So he’s a good friend of the groom. They’ll want to know about this.”

I nodded. The flower in the lapel hadn’t made an impression with me, but Land was right. Only the wedding party would have worn those flowers, which matched Gina’s own bouquet. “I’ll call her now, but don’t be surprised if it goes to voicemail.”

Land pressed dial on his own phone and turned his back to me. I could hear him request the number for a particular officer in the county police and waited. After a long pause, he began to talk.

I called Gina’s number. I was shocked when she picked up on the second ring. “Maeve, what’s going on? Why are you calling me?” I had to say that her voice sounded as though she’d expected something bad to be announced. I worried. Had she somehow known about this death before I did? The thought didn’t settle my nerves any.

I quickly explained the story to her, including Land’s deductions about the identity of the dead man. Gina gasped loudly. “Holy shit. I bet Land’s right. David was Trent’s best man. They’ve been friends since grade school.”

I gave her a quick description of the dead man:the hair, the beard, the figure, and she started to cry. “Yeah, that’s probably him. It certainly sounds like him.”

“Did anyone see him at the end of the reception?” I asked, thinking that perhaps we could rule him out if he’d gone home with other people.

Gina sighed. “Christie, that’s the best man’s girlfriend, was looking for him at the end of the reception. She couldn’t find him anywhere. She was pissed, thinking he’d gone home with another woman or something.”

“Does that happen often at a wedding?” I asked. I had felt all romantic and gushy after the event – until all of this had happened.

“They’ve had trouble for ages. I don’t know why she didn’t just dump him. He didn’t respect her, and she put up with it.”

I swallowed hard before responding, because I was starting to see a viable motive for a murder. I didn’t like it one bit. I had hoped that I’d been wrong, that I’d misread the situation, but natural causes were appearing less and less likely by the minute. We had a man who had disappeared and had a reputation for cheating on his girlfriend.

“Are you still there?” Gina asked, interrupting my chain of thought.

“Yeah, I am. I was just thinking.”

“So what happens now? Have you called that Detective Danvers yet? I guess I shouldn’t be dishing about him now that I’m married, right? But he was cute.” She giggled for a second and came back to the line. “Sorry, Trent was doing his best to remind me that I’m a married woman now.”

I rolled my eyes, thinking how unconcerned she was about my message. Granted that David was her husband’s friend, but she didn’t seem like she cared deeply. Perhaps it was just the emotion from the day.

I explained the issue with city vs county jurisdiction to her and why Danvers wouldn’t be participating in the case. Land had hung up already and was listening intently to my call. “See if they’re willing to come down and do the identification,” he whispered to me. His lips brushed my ear, and it sent a shiver up my spine. Not the best reaction under the circumstances, but he could still make my nerves melt if he tried.

I hung up, but not before Gina had promised to come down in an hour or so. She was determined not to let the opportunity to investigate pass her by, even if this was her wedding night.

“I called a friend of Danvers who works on the Clark County police. I explained the situation. They’re on their way out now.” Land motioned to the door, and I followed him out into the quickly chilling night. I wished I’d brought a jacket, but I hadn’t thought that I would need it with working in the food truck. Now goosebumps raised on my arm, but I wasn’t sure if they were from the air or the situation.

Within a few minutes, I could see the flashing lights of cars headed in our direction. The cars pulled up to the parking lot next to the restroom. A pair of uniformed officers walked over to us. One pointed a flashlight in our direction, and I had to partially cover my eyes against the harsh glare.

“One of you report a dead body?” the larger man asked.

Land spoke up and explained the situation to them. I wondered if one of these patrolmen was Danvers’ friend, but I didn’t ask. I was tired and just wanted to go home at this point.