Chapter 2
Land had already made plans with me to come over that night, so I knew I wouldn’t be running again. I spent the time tidying up the apartment a little bit and then kicking back with a book to wait for his arrival.
Since I had to be up at 4 a.m. the next day, Land knew that it would be an early evening. He brought over sandwiches that he’d made at the end of his shift. I’d never asked him if he continued the donations to the homeless with the second truck, but I figured that he likely did.
We curled up on the couch, and Land picked a mindless television program to watch while we ate and talked. I wasn’t paying much attention to the program. My mind kept wandering back to the homeless man I’d seen. Where was he tonight?
I jerked upright when the commercial appeared. Land paused the TV and looked at me. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked with concern.
“That man,” I said, pointing to the screen. “That’s him.”
“That’s he,” Land replied, pointing out yet again that, even as someone for whom English was a second language, he hadn’t picked up 25 years of bad habits. “And who is he?”
I looked him in the eyes. I’d told Land some stories that other people wouldn’t believe over the years, but this one would strain the imagination. “That’s the homeless guy I saw arguing in the park.”
“J Hamilton Preston, the city council candidate?” Land’s eyebrow went up. “You think he was the man you saw getting donations from you and then in the park arguing with the other person?”
I nodded. “I knew he looked familiar at the time, and now I know why. I’ve seen him on TV.”
Land sighed deeply. “Let’s say you’re right. Why would he be dressed up like a homeless dude? He’s got plenty of money. His parents own that art gallery off Maple. He could buy one of our hot dogs if he wanted. Hell, he could buy the whole food truck if he felt like it.”
This was going to be a hard sell, even for Land. I recognized the man clearly, and I saw him in my mind accepting the food and then again in the park. Could I be mistaken? I knew from Detective Danvers’s lectures that eyewitness identifications were notoriously unreliable. However, I felt certain in my gut that he was the man I’d seen.
His face looked back at me from the screen. As Land said, Hamilton Preston was running for public office after years of working at his parents’ art gallery. The local papers had done interviews with him, and the public opinion was divided on his electability. Many felt that he was too pampered, having worked for his parents since he was 16. The rest of the voters were fine with a man with downtown ties running for city council.
Like I said, I was apolitical. Land didn’t even bother to follow politics, since he was still a citizen of Spain and unable to vote.
The face on the screen was youngish for his age, which I knew was around 40. This particular ad was centered on his donations to local charities and his civic work in the community. He had another commercial where he introduced his children to the audience. I had read that he was divorced, which explained how he could go out in the evening without being questioned. His children looked to be about college age, and the boy looked a bit like Carter. I just put that down to all younger people having a certain homogenous look.
Land cleared his throat, reminding me that I hadn’t answered him. “I have no idea why he’d be going out at night dressed like a homeless guy, but I swear it’s the same face.”
“Could be a relative. Cousins look alike, sometimes. Brother?” Land offered helpfully.
I wondered about that. I could easily check up to see if that were the case. Google images would answer that question in a few minutes. Land started up the TV program again, and I settled in with my tablet to find out more about the Preston family. In short order, I learned that he had two sisters, but no brothers. I couldn’t find any information on cousins, but I doubted that Preston would let a family member live on the streets during a campaign. I was cynical enough to think that he would help his family members more for the publicity aspect than out of any true compassion.
Land and I watched the rest of the program, though I now had trouble following the plotline. I kept thinking about why politicians would want to hang out with the homeless people of town. Was he trying to make a point about the population of homeless people in Capital City or trying for a photo op? It seemed unlikely. Hamilton Preston had not wanted to have any undue attention put on him.
As Land was kissing me good-night, he looked down at me from half-closed lashes. “This isn’t the end of this, is it?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I want to know what’s going on. There’s probably a decent explanation for what I saw, but I want to know what it is. We do have a stake in what happens to Capital City. We have licenses and such from the city, and we want to make sure that we can stay in business.” I remembered the issues we’d had trying to get those licenses, and I knew that certain candidates weren’t fond of food trucks and other street-side businesses.
He snorted. “Just make sure that you don’t get our licenses revoked by your curiosity,” he said, kissing me again.
***
The next morning, I was at the secured lot long before Carter would even be waking up. I looked around, but I didn’t see Land’s sister, either. Sabine hadn’t been around much since the announcement of our engagement, and I was concerned that she disapproved of our relationship or thought that Land was making a mistake.
The lot was quiet, though, and the guard on duty was 50-ish and overweight, definitely not Sabine.
It was only 4 a.m. when I drove to the spot on Elm Street. Even though I was usually skittish about walking downtown at night, I was determined to learn what was going on. I had a flashlight in one hand and a can of mace in the other. I was prepared for whatever I found this morning.
The streets were so quiet that my ears almost ached, straining to hear something, but there was nothing to be heard. I walked around Government Square, hoping to find the man. I found several small groups of homeless people huddled together, but none of them bore a resemblance to the man I’d met, or the politician.
I gave up after about 40 minutes of fruitless searching. The morning air was cold, another sign of the coming winter, and I was glad to be back in the warmth and security of the food truck. Carter rolled in at 6 a.m. with a large cup of coffee, not ours, and started to work. He didn’t speak to me, so I left the situation as it was. I knew that when his circumstances came to a head that he would tell me what I needed to know.
I couldn’t be that sanguine about this problem with the politician, though. I felt like a snoop in one way, but in another, Land had pointed out that we were directly impacted by the actions of the city council. So my curiosity had a basis in my business, or so I told myself.
The day went fast, and I have to admit that I threw a few extra hot dogs on the grill at about 1:30 so that I would have more than enough to feed the homeless around the square.
Carter shot me an odd look, but he didn’t speak or ask questions. He’d started on some of his cleaning for the day, and he went back to it. He had begun a tad earlier than normal, but I put that down to wanting to get home to help with his mother. Most of our food business was done by then, so I hadn’t bothered to say anything about it to him.
I was a bit surprised to see Detective Danvers again that day. He hadn’t been around often in the past few months. There had been no need for his presence since I hadn’t touched a murder case since May. However, this marked the second time in two days that he’d stopped by, which made me wonder if he knew something that I didn’t.
I handed him a free cup of coffee. Carter hadn’t started cleaning the urns yet, and the rest would likely be thrown away. The gesture was akin to giving the hot dogs to the homeless, and I didn’t feel like he was begging in these circumstances.
“What’s going on here?” Danvers asked, making it sound like we were old friends instead of frequent adversaries.
“Not much. Just star
ting to get things cleaned up. We’re having a great fall. Profits are way up,” I said truthfully. I knew Jax Danvers well enough to know that he was leading up to something. I had no idea what it was, and so I was keeping all of my options open by being friendly and upbeat.
“Have you noticed anyone hanging around here lately?” Danvers said, trying to sound blasé about the matter.
“Just my customers,” I said, wondering what he was leading up to. Did it have anything to do with Hamilton Preston? Yet I couldn’t ask my question without giving away what I’d seen. I wasn’t ready to show my hand to Danvers. He would suspect that I was somehow involved with whatever was going on. If I were wrong, he’d laugh louder and harder than Land had.
“Have you had any of the candidates around?” he asked, still trying to play it off.
I shook my head. “We’re two people here, and small business owners. There’s not a lot of gain to be made in stopping by. I’m interested to see how Hamilton Preston does, though,” I added.
The words had the desired effect. Danvers arched his back slightly, and his eyes widened. He wouldn’t be a great poker player. “Why is that?” he managed in a strained voice.
“Family’s downtown. That sort of thing. What about you?”
A moment passed in silence. Danvers seemed to believe that I had only mentioned the name in passing as someone he might know. However, it was fairly apparent that there was more to this story. He might know him far better than he let on.
Danvers tipped back the cup and finished the rest of the coffee. He threw the cup into the trash can and walked off at a pace that was almost a trot. Since I’d provoked a reaction but not any information, I went back to my routine of giving a few hot dogs to the homeless. I finished putting the condiments on the dogs. Carter had used his recipe that called for bacon wrapping the dogs and then teriyaki sauce and pineapple. I managed to get the bacon without much trouble and had eight dogs by the time I ran out of condiments.
I handed over the serving trays to Carter for him to wash, and I went outside to distribute food. There was a large crowd of customers today, so I wasn’t sure that I’d have enough to find Preston, but I wanted to give it a try. I was sure that he’d been the one I’d seen the other day.
I gave Delores one, and she told me that her sister said thank you. I wasn’t sure if she had a sister or not. She often chatted with people who weren’t there. The young man with PTSD was also on the square, and he just smiled at me as I gave him the food.
The last hot dog went to a man I hadn’t seen before. His eyes were bright and sparkling, not like the usual despondent gazes I received. He took the hot dog, and I paused a second. I may not be the best eyewitness in recorded history, but I knew hands. The hands that had taken the hot dog were manicured. Not just trimmed, but trimmed, filed, and clear coated. I nearly dropped the dog, but I gathered my thoughts and took the time to study the man. He was older than Hamilton, perhaps old enough to be his father. He watched me carefully, almost challenging me to say something to him.
He was clean-shaven, yet his clothes were decidedly old and torn. I wasn’t sure what to make of this sudden trend of men dressing down like this. Were they hiding something or just trying to get away from it all?
I started to ask him something, but he turned and left. I thought about confronting him, but what did I really have? He had nice nails and an upscale haircut. He couldn’t be arrested for wanting to look good. For all I knew, he had a family member who kept him cleaned up on a regular basis.
I stood there, watching the man and letting my mind race through the possibilities. Nothing became clear to me.
Carter came out of the truck and cleared his throat. “Hey, I’m all done. Did you want to visit Land before I leave?” He used air quotes as he said the word visit to let me know that he suspected we participated in more than talk in the other truck.
I shook my head. “That’s okay. I’ll text him and then I should see him later.”
He nodded and started to walk away, but then turned back to me. “Hey, about my mom, I wanted to let you know if something happened.” His words trailed off, and I suspected the worst had occurred. I braced myself for the news. “Aaron asked me to marry him last night.” The words were spoken in that same morose voice he’d just used, and I wasn’t sure how to take it.
“Congratulations?” I asked, unsure of what to say when the groom seemed unhappy about the announcement.
“Yeah, thanks, I guess.” He shrugged.
“You don’t seem excited,” I added, stating the obvious.
He turned, looked at the truck, and then turned back to me. “I’m not sure. I worry that he’s just proposing to take my mind off of everything else. I don’t want it to be way to cheer me up. I want it to be because he can’t live without me.”
“How long have you two been together?” I asked, knowing they’d been off and on longer than he’d been working at the food truck. I wasn’t sure if he counted the entire time since they’d met, or only the months that they’d actually dated.
“Four years, but it’s not always easy. You and Land make it seem simple. Maybe that’s what I want.” His expression was wistful, almost dreamy. I wondered if he thought we’d made it look simple when Land was in jail or I was accused of murder. We’d had a few booking sheets between the two of us.
“I’m pretty lucky,” I admitted. “But the circumstances of our engagement were anything but storybook.”
“Maybe I just want some excitement. You should let me do something on your next case. Are you following anyone at the moment or detecting a murder?” His eyes lit up. I suspected that Carter was just having a hard time because the reality of his situation was not what he wanted. For the foreseeable future, he had debts, a dying mother, and the potential to become the legal guardian for multiple children. That was a lot on his plate. Playing Nancy Drew with me would seem like more fun.
Since he asked, I told Carter about how I was sure that I’d seen Hamilton Preston dressed as a homeless man, explaining Danvers’s reaction to hearing the man’s name earlier. Then I told him about the well-groomed man just now.
Carter didn’t have much in the way of help to give me. There were too many nail salons downtown in Capital City to even begin to follow up that lead. Same with the haircut and shave. I didn’t have a photo of this new man, so I would have to go just on description, and chances were that he hadn’t gone into any salon dressed like he was today. Carter really didn’t seem like he was interested in pursuing this, despite his earlier enthusiasm. I wondered if he’d wanted a clean-cut murder rather than a masquerading politician, but he only offered a few suggestions before his ideas faded.
After chatting a few minutes, I gave Carter a hug and headed back to the truck. I managed to finish my banking tasks and get the truck back to the secured lot in record time.
Land had decided to come over that evening. He’d texted me while I was counting the money and told me what we’d have for dinner. Frankly, he had me at “you don’t have to cook.” He enjoyed cooking, even after a long day of working at a food truck. It was almost more than I could bear to order takeout after a full shift.
I made it home and stretched out on the couch. I hadn’t been sleeping well, thinking about all the things going on with the candidate and with Carter. My life, crazy though it could be, seemed like a breeze at this point.
I woke to the sound of my cell phone. I’d set my ringtone to the old-fashioned ring, and it scared me back into consciousness. I looked at the name and saw that Carter was calling me. I wondered what he could want, since we’d just seen each other three hours ago.
I picked up. “Hello?” I said with far less gusto than I intended.
“Maeve, is that you?”
I agreed that it was me. “What’s up?” I asked in return, thinking that something tragic had happened with his family situation.
“You won’t believe the news. Turn it on.” His voice was breathless, like he’d been running
.
“I only have Netflix. So unless they’re streaming the news, just tell me.”
“It’s Hamilton Preston. He’s dead.”
That was enough to get me off my sofa and pick up the tablet. I pulled up the local news website. The first story on the site was about Hamilton Preston. I began to read. Preston had not come to work at his gallery. The family had called the police, though little could be done so soon after his disappearance. It wasn’t until this evening that the body had been located at a local park with injuries likely sustained from an assault with a blunt instrument.
“You were right. Something was going on with him,” Carter said, sounding slightly superior.
I ignored his words for a moment as I continued reading the article. My eyes stopped on the last line of the story. Preston’s body had been found in the same park I’d seen him two days ago.
I knew that he hadn’t been in the park the entire time. If so, his body would have been found long before now. That meant that he’d returned to the park again later. I wondered if he’d been with the same man he’d been with two days ago, and if they’d argued again.
“Well, we certainly don’t know very much,” I added. “The police probably have more information that we do at this point.”
“And I suppose that Detective Danvers can’t be persuaded to tell you anything about the case?” he queried. “Maybe that’s why he stopped by today.” When Carter had first started working at the truck, he’d been convinced that I should date Danvers, but since I’d been with Land, he’d stopped that campaign, though a few suggestions that I had some magical allure over Danvers still arose.
“I doubt it. I won’t ask him for details.” I bristled at the thought of asking Jax Danvers for anything. He was normally annoyed with me for showing him up during investigations. I couldn’t imagine that he would enjoy sharing information with me, so that I could do it again.
Carter was halfway through an explanation of his scheme to go undercover amongst the homeless people to learn more when I cut him off. I suspected that Carter was feeling a bit overwhelmed by his personal life and was trying to escape via a criminal investigation. In reality, he had far more on his plate than he needed, and I wanted to keep him away from any other problems.
A GRAVE CONCERN (Food Truck Mysteries Book 8) Page 2