He was sautéing on the stove when he looked at me with those deep brown eyes and said, “What’s up with the security cameras? Is someone stealing from us?”
In the moment he said “us,” I knew that I couldn’t doubt him. He was in this venture with me, and if he’d needed a loan, he would have asked for one. He considered us a long-term business partnership, and probably an equally lengthy romantic relationship. This was not Land’s doing. However, that meant Carter was the only viable suspect, and I had absolutely no evidence that it was him.
“So you think it’s Carter?” Land asked. He was still watching me carefully.
I wasn’t sure about how I felt about his in-depth knowledge of me and my thoughts. He was asking questions that my own mind was posing. It was slightly unnerving. “Who else can it be? He’s broke all the time. Aaron has to drive him to work, and he also buys Carter coffee.”
Land shrugged. “There are a number of ways to take the money without Carter being involved. Lots of people are broke, and they don’t steal from food trucks.” He started to explain some procedure where the video feed could be manipulated by a loop of the same video being sent to the server while the real video wasn’t being recorded. However, since we were dealing with master spies and espionage rings, I figured that this intense method of subterfuge didn’t apply to this situation.
I shrugged, but Land said, “Just wait. You’ll see that this will all work out. I promise.”
I wasn’t sure how he could promise anything of the sort, but he deliberately changed the subject by kissing me.
Chapter 2
Even though Carter is about the same age as I am, he can be incredibly immature at times. The next morning when I arrived at the truck, still well before 6am, he wagged his eyebrows at me, his shorthand for the fact that he knew what I had been doing the previous evening. I had worried for some time that he would make things awkward, since his two bosses would be dating, but he’d taken it in stride. He cheerfully encouraged us and asked inappropriate questions at times.
I ignored him and got to work. I had a hard time being jovial with a man that I suspected of petty theft. Carter didn’t seem to notice and went back to work making the condiments.
By the end of the day, we had a record day from my tallies, and the cash register didn’t show a discrepancy for the first time in many days. I was relieved. Maybe adding some security to the truck was just what we had needed.
The rest of the week went smoothly, without interruption. I wasn’t missing any more money, so I put the incident behind me – or so I thought. I’m not the type of woman to let things go easily. It’s one of the reasons that the police aren’t fond of me here in Capital City. I’ve beat them to the punch on a number of occasions when my tenacity has paid off. To them, a crime is one of many cases to be solved by an overworked force. To me, it’s a personal affront.
However, Friday’s receipts were down almost $200 from what I expected. I counted again and cursed under my breath. My cockiness had made me think that the problem was over. Yet here I was in the same predicament I’d started with. I did have the video feed, but I had a strong suspicion that I’d find nothing awry with the cash register again.
Carter looked up. “Something wrong with the money?” he asked. Since I was his only source of income, he had the right to worry when I cursed out the cash receipts. He hadn’t talked about the medical bills lately, but with the first of the month coming up, I suspected that he needed every penny.
“Nothing to worry about. Just a shortage.” I tried to play it off as casually as I could. Inside, though, I was steaming. Of course this would have to happen on a Friday, when I would have the chance to steam over it all weekend.
I counted the cash again, though I knew deep inside that I would end up with the same totals. I gave up trying to make it change after the third count and entered the totals. How could this still be happening?
I looked over to Basque In the Sun, where Land was just opening up. I needed to vent, so I left the cash bag under the counter and walked the fifty yards to see him. Of course, venting was only one reason I wanted to see him. When I walked in the door, he smiled and moved close to me, blocking me from a view of the window – and the window from a view of me. I enjoyed these moments; I had worried that the concerns of the business would drown the moments of romance, but Land took opportunities to remind me that we were dating as well as working.
I had more than hoped that he would take a moment to greet me. I leaned my head back as he pressed his mouth against mine. His tongue slipped between my lips, and the familiar electrical charge ran through my body. Part of my brain wondered if this would ever fade or get old, but the rest of me shushed it.
A few minutes later, we came up for air. “I’m assuming you’re short again,” he said, breathing a little more raggedly than he had earlier.
I nodded. “What could be doing this? I don’t get it.”
He gave me a wicked grin. “I’m guessing you’ll be home later, watching those videos?”
“Yeah, not exactly how I wanted to spend my weekend,” I said with frustration.
“Drop off the truck and go home. I’ll stop by later, and we’ll watch them together,” he said. I appreciated that Land knew me well enough to realize the evening would include some time spent fretting over the cash situation. Land was incredibly sensitive about still allowing me time to run the business. Given that he had a vested interest in its success, it wasn’t entirely altruistic, but it still allowed me to stress over this.
A few hours later, we were cuddled up on the couch, watching the video feed for the day. Nobody had come near the register. I fast forwarded through the feed until I got to the point where I took the cash out to count it for the day.
Land raised an eyebrow at me. “Apparently you’re the thief. You’re the only one who touched it all day. Case solved. What do you want to do this weekend?”
“You want to be funny, but you’re not,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Why would I want to steal my own money? What happened to that great idea you had?”
“Give me a minute,” Land replied. “I want to show you something.” Land had brought some baking supplies with him. Nothing like a man who likes you even after he stuffs you with cupcakes. I had started an occasional run in the afternoons to counteract the effects of his cooking on my waistline. He clattered in the kitchen for a few minutes and then called me out. He was stirring the batter and making a small mess on the counter and his shirt. He distracted me by taking off his shirt and wiping the counter with it. Not the most sanitary of moves, but I wasn’t paying attention. Land had a solid six-pack and flat pecs that felt so good pressed against me. I was having a bit of trouble focusing. “I have another one in my bag with the cooking supplies. Will you get it?” he asked calmly.
I walked back into the living room, realizing that he’d thrown me out of my own kitchen. I returned with his shirt, though I’d thought about seeing if we could get some batter on his pants too.
When I returned, he pointed to the oven. “The first ones are done. Would you take them out?”
I walked to the oven, feeling very confused. The oven wasn’t even turned on. Even I knew the basics of baking. There was no heat generating from the appliance. Still, he had been firm about it, so I opened the door and found two perfect cupcakes inside. They were cool to the touch, obviously, and I pulled them out without a mitt.
“Nice magic trick, but it’s easy to see through,” I said. My mind was racing through possibilities to the best solution. While he was amusing me like a circus magician, Land didn’t do these little logic problems without a reason. He was trying to let me come to his possible solution to the money issues.
“So is this problem you’re having,” he said with a smile. “You’re focused on finding who is taking the money during the day.” He stretched the last word out, making it a clue.
I nodded, realizing the misdirection for what it was. I had naturally assumed that the fault
rested with my accounting practices or that someone was taking money from me while the register was open. However, the cash drawer money was also stored somewhere for the rest of the day. “You’re saying that the theft isn’t occurring during the day, but in the evenings after I return the truck. Someone is either already in or is gaining access to the secured lot and taking small sums of cash from the register.”
Land smiled. “If this person is taking small amounts from all the vehicles there, they could be making a great deal of money.” Land took the cupcake and popped part of it into his mouth. A small piece of icing was smudged on his lip. He was still shirtless and looked more appetizing than the baked goods.
“So how do we prove this theory of yours? Run the cameras all night long?” Cupcakes and surveillance tapes weren’t all bad, but it wasn’t the way I wanted to spend a free evening with Land.
Land looked at me, apparently trying to gauge my attitude. “I think that a little stakeout is in order for us tonight.”
“You certainly know how to show a woman a good time – cupcakes and stakeouts!” I grabbed a jacket, and we were on our way.
Land had me drive, since he thought that his sports car would likely draw more attention than my old Buick. He was probably right, though I didn’t want to admit it. The secured lot had a watch guard on duty, and I’d come up with a lie to cover our activities.
However, I had wasted the time. My life always seems to be that way. When I get ready for a particular event, something different happens. We pulled up to the guard shack next to the closed gates and blew the horn. The action was necessary, because there was no guard at the gate. So my excuses were for naught.
Land opened the door to the Buick and stepped out. While the neighborhood wasn’t the best, no one would have been scared of walking past here in the evening. I doubted that the guard had left the post to pursue a felon.
I left the lights on and the motor running, and I stepped out as well. “Hello,” I shouted. I wasn’t sure what I expected to hear, but the silence enveloped us.
“So this is not what I expected,” I said, peering between the links in the fence.
“Me either,” Land replied mysteriously. I wondered what he had thought would happen, but I knew that if I asked, he would be unlikely to give me a quick response. Land still held his cards very close to his chest, even if we were dating. For the most part, I didn’t mind. He was open about his feelings towards me, the business, and his life, but thoughts, especially thoughts that didn’t directly impact me or the business, were still his alone.
Land grabbed a handful of chain-link fence, stuck the toe of his shoe between some links, and pushed himself up. He repeated this process until he was at the top of the fence. There was some barbed wire around the top of the fence, but somehow he managed to climb over it without any damage to himself. He quickly dropped down on the other side.
Looking around for a latch or a gate release, he shook his head. “Park the car. Get a towel or something and then come back. You’re going to do the same thing I did.”
I didn’t argue because I didn’t see any other way around what we needed to do. We had every right to inspect our truck, day or night, so I doubted that we’d be in trouble for hopping the fence. More likely, the lot would have some explaining to do since the gate was being left unguarded.
As I walked back to the gate, I wondered if this was how the thief was getting into our truck. I had never locked the truck, since it was supposed to be behind multiple levels of security here. The lot had locked entrances and video camera security. I threw the towel over my shoulder and tried to follow the same steps Land had maneuvered a few minutes before.
I didn’t have the same upper body strength that Land did, so my progress was measured in inches rather than feet, but I finally got to the top of the fence. I rested the towel over the barbed wire and made it over the top. I went down in small steps again, but in a matter of minutes, I was standing next to Land looking at the Buick parked across the street.
“Not bad for a first timer,” he said. “Any rips or cuts?” He looked over me, but apparently I passed muster. He lingered for a few seconds on my body, which made me blush.
“So what now?” I asked, looking around. I’d been to this lot multiple times a day for nearly two years, but tonight, with the missing guard and the complete silence, it was downright creepy. I walked close to Land, though we didn’t touch. I didn’t want to appear frightened, but I certainly felt the need to be under his protection – if circumstances came to that.
We walked to the original food truck first, since the missing cash had come from that truck. I wondered again why Basque in the Sun had not missed any cash, even though it sat a few feet away. I unlocked the door and stood aside for Land to enter first. It was a matter of chivalry and anxiety at work.
He turned on the lights. I stepped inside and came up behind him. Inside the truck, I felt less concerned. After all the violence that had happened in there, I should probably have rethought that peaceful feeling, but the space felt like a second home.
I walked to the register, pulled out the till, and began to count. I always kept an even $400 in the drawer for the next day. It only took a few minutes to count because most of the coins were in wrappers and I’d banded some of the cash. We were $42.15 short.
I told Land what had happened. He nodded. “I knew it had to happen here. There was no other explanation.” He looked grim as he spoke. Given that it was annoying, but nothing near grand theft, I wasn’t sure why he looked so concerned. In total, I’d lost a little over $300 in the past week.
I started to turn off the light when Land caught my hand. “If the theft happened tonight, it’s too late for today. Switch on the cameras Monday afternoon before you bring the truck back, and then we can find out who is behind this.”
I look at him. “You don’t think we’ve tipped the thief off that we’ve figured out what’s going on?”
He shook his head. “No. I am thinking that the guard has to be involved in some manner. It just plays out that way.”
I nodded. I wasn’t sure that I agreed with that, because my own devious brain had come up with at least two other ways to commit the crimes, but Land had been right once this evening, so I let it slide.
On the way out, I wanted to lock all the doors, but Land shook his head. “If we lock the doors now, then we’ll never find out who was responsible for the thefts. You don’t have any cameras on the outside of the truck. If you put one out there now, either they’ll steal that too, or get the hint that you’re on to them. This only works if we play dumb.”
I grumbled, but kept the doors unlocked. I did use a piece of hair on the drawer, sliding it between the tray and the wall like I’d seen in so many old movies. Land wanted to laugh, I think, but he kept it to a smirk. I felt better for the action.
We had to go back out the way we came in, over the fence. There was still no guard at the gate. We headed back to my place after that for a more traditional date.
On Monday morning, even though I’d had late nights the last two evenings, I made sure that I was the first one to the truck. I had to see if the hair was still there. Sure enough, when I checked the register, the dark red hair from my head was still in place. Nothing like being a ginger to reduce the odds that someone can fake your hair. I thanked my Irish heritage for my ability to spot a break-in.
I managed to get the truck to Elm Street and start work. I didn’t need to count the cash since it hadn’t been touched since my totals last night. I started on the coffee and made a note to tell Land we were almost out again. I paused for a second to ponder this. I was fairly certain that I’d just had a coffee delivery from Land last week. I doubted that we’d gone through all of his normal batch in just under a week. Our coffee sales weren’t high enough to support that. When inventory doesn’t match sales, that typically means that someone has either taken the coffee itself or is selling coffee without ringing it into the register.
Great – now we could add coffee to the things being stolen around here. Nobody could be ringing up the register or filching cups of coffee in Dogs on the Roll without me noticing, but of course, coffee could be stolen after hours just as the cash could be taken. I was even more frustrated by the time I opened the window for business. Carter could tell my mood, but he kept to his work and left me alone.
We managed to get through the shift without difficulty. I wasn’t sure what to tell Land about the coffee, though I walked across Government Plaza as soon as I had the money counted and the truck cleaned. I had to vent to someone, and I didn’t want Carter to think that I was blaming him for this in any way.
“This doesn’t bode well. What happened now?” Land asked. He didn’t even look up from his work as he spoke. I knew that he was busy and focused, but I needed to talk this out with someone. My dad would only be concerned about the bottom line in the situation, and my mother would worry that I was getting involved in another police investigation that might put me in danger.
“I think someone is stealing our coffee too,” I said without preamble. “We’re low on coffee, and it’s only been a week since your last delivery.”
This did get him to pause. He looked far more concerned about the coffee theft than the money. “When did you find this out?” he asked, eyes focused only on me.
“This morning. I just noticed we’re running low, and I don’t think the coffee sales support the amount of coffee used.” I shrugged. “Do you really think someone is stealing coffee too?”
He didn’t blink, but continued to stare at me. “As much as I believe that someone is stealing ninety dollars from you, yes. Weird things happen to you.”
I nodded and looked down at what he was doing. He had been chopping fish, but even though his knife continued to move, the fish had long been cut. He was now just chopping the cutting board with nothing under the knife. Land was usually so calm and collected that even a minor mistake like that told me that he was dealing with an emotion or situation that he was unfamiliar with. I didn’t know what, but I knew something had affected him. Given that I didn’t have much experience in this matter, I stood there in silence, hoping for a cue from someone.
FOOD TRUCK MYSTERIES: The Complete Series (14 Books) Page 73