by R. L. Naquin
“Oh, no.” Bonnie shook her head. “It’s perfectly safe. That’s how we get to Homer’s.”
“Homer’s?”
“Sure. Where we sleep most nights.” Bonnie’s eyes crinkled in the corners. “That’s where everyone goes at night. They rarely run out of beds. The alley’s a good shortcut.”
Verne nodded. “Otherwise, we have to walk all the way around. It cuts off a good half mile of travel.”
I leaned forward, my voice low. “And you’re not afraid? Even after everything that’s happened?”
The three of them exchanged puzzled looks.
“What do you mean?” Bonnie leaned forward, as if I were about to tell her a juicy secret.
Apparently, I was. “In the last two months, there have been two murders in that alley. The most recent was last night.”
Maizy gasped. “You’re kidding me.”
“Are you telling me you didn’t know about it?” I knew the OGREs were keeping things quiet, but I didn’t think they could keep it this quiet.
Bonnie stared into her bag of chips. “Well, now walking through the alley seems like a death wish.” She tipped her had back and shook the chip crumbs into her mouth. “Now how will I get to church on Sunday?”
I was appalled. I’d lived on the streets before. Word got around, so there weren’t a lot of secrets. This wasn’t what I’d expected. I’d hoped for some insight into two gruesome murders that had happened under these people’s noses.
Instead, I found they knew absolutely nothing about it. Was the OGRE squad that good at covering up Hidden business? Were people living in a bubble?
* * *
I waved goodbye at the three figures across the street—two holding hands and one pushing a wobbly cart. Despite my protests, they’d insisted on leaving through the alley, and they wouldn’t accept my offer to go with them. They did, however, promise to stick together whenever possible.
Not the promise I’d hoped to get, but it was better than nothing.
I watched until they disappeared, then startled when I realized Lucas was standing behind me. “Ugh. What?” I ran one self-conscious hand over my hair to smooth any strays. “You keep sneaking up on me.”
“Hey now. I thought we had a clean slate.” He flashed me a smile. His teeth were very white, and his lips were distracting.
“Fine. You scared me. Please... I don’t know. Make more noise in the future.” I wasn’t annoyed with him, but I was taking it out on him, which made me feel bad and therefore more snappish. Poor guy.
“Hey, if anybody should be in a grumpy mood, it should be me.”
I gave him a sideways glance. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“You, my dear, are what’s wrong.” He gave me a stern look. “I’ve spent months building up a clientele for my breakfast burritos, and in two days, you swoop in and steal all the customers. With toast.” He put his hands on his hips and feigned indignation.
Despite my bad mood, my lips curled up in a small smile. “You know it’s not the toast, right?”
He looked me up and down—twice. “No? Is it the bagels? I hear you added bagels to your menu today. That must explain the rush.”
I tilted my head to the side and regarded him, not nearly as grumpy as I’d been. “Are you done teasing me yet?”
“Almost.” He ducked his head and lowered his voice in a conspiratorial whisper. “Did you really break a guy’s arm today for copping a feel?”
I bent and whispered back, as if we were telling secrets. “It wasn’t really broken. He’ll be fine in a few days if he keeps it immobile and ices it.”
Lucas threw his head back and laughed. “That is awesome. Remind me to be nicer to you in the future.”
I grinned. “Be nicer to me in the future.”
His expression became serious, and he cleared his throat. “So, I was thinking.”
My spine tensed. His demeanor had changed so quickly. This was it. This was where he was going to call me out on being here to investigate the murders. My cover was blown. I sighed. “Okay.”
He blinked at me like an owl. “Okay? I didn’t even ask yet.”
“I meant, okay, go ahead and ask.” I stared at the ground and scanned for bottle caps. I found a pretty purple one that must’ve been from grape soda and snagged it for Ash. Nobody drank grape soda anymore. This was a keeper.
“Why do you collect those?”
“That’s your question?” If I distracted him, would he forget about being nosy? Probably not.
“No.” He made an exasperated sound from the back of his throat. “I was going to ask if you’d, maybe, want to get dinner tonight?”
I was so startled by the question, I didn’t know how to answer at first. I’d expected accusations, not an invitation for a date. Once it sank in that he wanted to take me out, a million scenarios raced through my head simultaneously—many of them naked with me bent over a piece of furniture or the hood of a random car.
My chest felt tight, and my underwear became uncomfortable. The sexy-genie costume seemed dreadfully inappropriate now, as if I’d shown up naked to a bar mitzvah. “I don’t think that would be such a good idea.” My voice came out husky and low. I was sure it didn’t make me sound convincing. “I have a lot to do tonight, and I promised Ash some girl time.”
Lame. I should have tried harder to come up with an excuse that didn’t sound so much like a brush-off. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
What I wanted was to say yes and let the evening go wherever it took us. But that wouldn’t have been responsible. As much as I wanted to run my hands over that tanned skin and smell that spicy aftershave up close, I had to stay on point. People were dead. Souls were stuck in limbo. Now was not the time for a hookup.
It wasn’t like anything real could come of it, anyway. I wasn’t exactly available for keepsies.
“I understand. Maybe some other time.” His expression was disappointed, but not discouraged. He turned toward his truck, then turned back, his voice a low, sexy rumble. “It’s just dinner, Jeannie. You’re safe with me.” He sauntered to his truck and climbed in without waiting for me to answer.
I took a deep breath to try to erase the urge to run after him. He was already far too cocky. He didn’t need me to reinforce how sexy he was. He was well aware.
“Smooth.” Ash stood inside the window, leaning on her elbows and resting her chin on the heels of her hands. The amused grin on her face was obviously directed at me.
“How long have you been there?”
“Every minute. I have no sense of boundaries.”
I groaned and headed into the truck. “That’s what I get for wanting a little sister.”
She shut the window and faced me, hands on her hips. “What the hell is wrong with you? You obviously like that guy. Why’d you blow him off?”
“He was just... I can’t... Never mind. I’m not looking for a boyfriend, okay? I’m looking for a murderer.” I grabbed an apple from a bowl on the counter and took a bite. “Besides. What if he’s the murderer we’re looking for? He’s only been here a few months. He got here right around the time Peter went missing.”
She snorted. “Please. You don’t think he’s the murderer.”
“I don’t know that he’s not.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized what had really been bothering me about Lucas. Underneath all the heat and primal urges he gave me, I didn’t trust him. He had arrived in the area around the time that Peter and Anna had gone missing. And he’d been the first to arrive in the alley last night.
So far, Lucas was the only suspect I had.
Chapter Eleven
I needed more suspects. No decent private eye settled for only one, and it would be nice to knock the one I had off the list, if at all possible. So I had to get to know my fe
llow members of the Food Truck Posse. Today probably wasn’t the most decent day to do that, considering how upset they were about having lost another member of the group.
But it was probably one of the easiest days, since they were all outside talking and consoling each other.
I grabbed a sweater and pulled it on over my genie costume. It seemed inappropriate to go half-naked into a crowd of frightened mourners. There were those who might’ve said I couldn’t tell when something was inappropriate, but those people—no matter how well they thought they knew me—would be wrong. I understood boundaries and social cues as well as the next person. Usually, I thought those boundaries and social cues were stupid, and I ignored them.
Today’s list of trucks included the Baconator, Doodlebug Cookies and Lucas’s Burrito Bandito, as well as Gareth’s Authentic Fish & Chip Shoppe and something called Bamboozled, which had a vegetarian menu that focused on meatless meat dishes. With the exception of the Bandito, which Lucas handled by himself, every truck was run by two or three people. Nearly a dozen people were gathered on the grass in a cluster.
As I approached, their chatter died away, and the group parted to make room for me.
Lisa from Doodlebug Cookies had one arm around her daughter. When I drew close, she reached out and grabbed my hand. “Lucas said you were the one who found Sandra.”
I nodded. “Yes.” I had to stop myself from apologizing, as if I were responsible for Sandra’s death. I wanted to say, I’m sorry your friend died. I’m sorry I didn’t find her sooner. I’m sorry I didn’t catch the person responsible before it was too late.
I’m sorry I couldn’t save her.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and took a deep breath to try to clear the tightness in my chest. It didn’t work.
She squeezed my hand. “How are you holding up?”
I blinked, surprised by the question. “I’m okay.” I’d expected, as the newcomer and the person who’d brought such horrible news, that I wouldn’t be welcomed this morning. “I didn’t sleep very well last night.”
Her blue eyes filled with tears. “Of course you didn’t.” She put her arms around me and hugged me tight. “That had to be horrible for you, finding her like that.”
Before I had a chance to react, Lisa’s daughter, Grace, joined us in the hug, then Amber and Terri from Bamboozled and Gareth’s wife, Claire. Someone let out a sob, and it set off a chain reaction of quiet crying. Before they let go, they’d all joined in on the pile, everyone patting everyone else on the back and making soothing noises between sniffles.
Who knew the food truck community was so close?
One at a time, people let go and stepped back until each was a separate entity again. I stood to the side with my arms wrapped around myself.
Amber—tan and thin with muscular arms and shiny blond hair—cleared her throat. Surprisingly, she and her sister appeared to be centaurs. Without the magic that created the human illusions, they’d never fit inside their truck. “Well, we really just wanted to say goodbye to y’all. It’s not safe. Tomorrow we’re going to give the Corporate Strip a try.”
Gareth, who appeared to be an unusually dapper bridge troll, and his wife, Claire, a lovely water elemental, exchanged a long, silent look before he spoke. “We’ve spent years building a customer base. They expect to see us here three days a week, rain or shine. We’re taking the risk and staying.”
Aaron, one of the bacon brothers, stood to the side, watching Lisa. She didn’t appear to notice as she and Grace pressed their heads together and spoke in low voices. After a moment, they separated.
Her expression was fierce. “We’re staying.”
Aaron stepped forward and folded his arms across his chest. His gaze never left Lisa’s face. “Safety in numbers. We’ll stay.”
It amazed me that Lisa appeared oblivious to Aaron’s devotion. How long had this unrequited scenario been going on? If there was time between trying to make money and catch a killer, I’d have to step in and see if I could move this little dance along.
Lucas had kept himself a few steps apart from the rest of them. At Aaron’s declaration to stay, Lucas tipped his head back and ran his hand over his forehead. His lips moved, as if he were muttering to himself, but I couldn’t hear what he said.
He didn’t appear to be pleased.
What exactly was his deal? He acted as if he was in charge of everybody. Like he was responsible for them. Or maybe that they were getting in the way of his plans. I narrowed my eyes and thought hard about who could be responsible.
The only people here now who had also been here the day before were Lisa, Aaron and Lucas. The other two trucks hadn’t worked here yesterday. That meant Gareth and the vegetarians probably weren’t suspects. In fact, yesterday’s dinner run had been kind of slow, and there hadn’t been any additional trucks.
If the killer was a food truck owner, they were either standing right here or so sneaky they were doubling back without the truck. If that were the case, I might never figure it out, considering the roster changed every day.
Of course, as much as I wanted to play gumshoe and figure all this out, I wasn’t trained, had no experience and had absolutely no idea what I was doing.
I had the vague idea that in order for someone to be a suspect, I had to figure out his or her motive. These people didn’t have a motive to kill each other. Not that I could see. They all seemed to like each other—some more than others. There was plenty of business for everyone. Customers often bought from several trucks to get the meal they wanted.
Except for Lucas, nobody seemed to want to call me on my bullshit in selling toast. Because, let’s be honest. I was having a blast and making enough money to support Ash and I for a little while, but a toast truck was absolute bullshit. Nobody really wanted toast. They wanted to hang with a half-naked girl before work. And they had to buy toast to do it.
I wasn’t stupid. It wasn’t a long-term, sustainable business model. It was a novelty.
So. What did that leave me with? Nothing. I still didn’t have any real suspects. Well, except for Lucas. He didn’t fit with the rest of them. Despite having been here for several months, he didn’t fit as well as I did, and I’d been here only a few days.
He appeared to be aggravated that they weren’t all clearing out in a panic. Was he afraid for them? Or was he killing people in an attempt to get everyone out of there?
And there was the puzzling lack of Hiddeness to him. I’d studied everyone carefully. They were all obviously Hidden. So, what was Lucas? Was he human? And if so, what was he doing in the middle of a group of Hidden, hovering over them?
Suspicious as hell. But still no actual motive. All the cop shows indicated I needed to find one of those before I could figure it out.
A breeze blew through the group, and I caught a whiff of his aftershave. Goose bumps rose on my arms, and my stomach tightened. Could I sleep with him before I found out for sure, just in case?
No. I shook my head to clear it. I wasn’t supposed to be sleeping with anybody. And now was certainly not the time, even if I could. I pushed the thought away. My past would catch up to me eventually, but that didn’t have to be today.
Terri chatted with Lucas while Amber wiped the breakfast menu off their chalkboard. I narrowed my eyes and examined him closer than I had before. All right, maybe not closer—with a different focus. I ignored the tight tee and the hard muscles and looked for anything my hormone-drenched vision had missed before.
Still no shimmer revealing another form beneath the one my eyes saw. No jewels on his wrist to indicate he was djinn, like me. He might have been a demon or a shifter, but I would have spotted a demon through his eyes, and the shifters smelled...odd. Of course, that could explain the aftershave, but I probably would have noticed it anyway.
Plus, the presence of were-folk was highly regulated h
ere. They had their own world. Crossing over took a lot of paperwork and physical training to keep the shifter from contaminating humans.
Nobody wanted a lycanthropy outbreak. Those were hell to clean up.
So, what did that leave? Human. He had to be human. But he was a human who was aware of the Hidden world.
If he was a reaper, I couldn’t see a soul stone on him anywhere. His shirt was too tight to be hiding it.
What the hell was he?
* * *
My plan for the day was to keep a close watch on everyone during the lunch rush, then once everyone cleared out, I’d go back through the alley, look for anything the OGRE squad and I might have missed in the dark, then check out Homer’s.
Lunch went well. Ash worked the grill hard, lining up eight or ten sandwiches at a time, so we moved them through the window with a precision that made us look like we’d been doing it for years instead of days. The men were polite, and to my surprise, we started seeing a good percentage of women in our line, too.
Apparently, my nearly breaking the arm of a misogynistic pig made our food worth coming out for. How many other women had he tried that crap on? Maybe I should have broken his arm after all. A little break. Maybe a finger.
After lunch, I climbed into the truck and changed into my private eye outfit. It was a little warm for the leather jacket, but it made me feel like I was playing the part properly. I didn’t think I’d need to be stealthy, since it was broad daylight, so the squeaky leather wouldn’t give me away.
When I came back out, the only truck that had left was Gareth and Claire’s fish and chips. Baconator and Doodlebug Cookies sat next to each other, and Lucas’s truck was a short distance from theirs. The people all stood outside talking, with the exception of Lisa, who I assumed must be either cleaning up or prepping for the next shift in her truck.
I joined them, picking up a plain white bottle cap and shoving it in my pocket. “Hey. Where’s Lisa?”
The bacon brothers and Grace stared at me like I was covered in olive oil and waving a flaming toilet brush.