by Dana Mentink
She nodded. “Hence the boxes behind the store.”
“And I wondered, you know, since Sonny and Candy are close, if maybe they were selling some of Lupin’s things without mentioning them to the family.” She thought of the pocket watch Candy had been showing Donald.
“Hmmm. Could be, but I still don’t see why that would be a motive for killing Kevin. Even if he knew they were siphoning off some valuables, it’s petty crime at best. So that points me back to this supposed treasure that our town is obsessing over. I’ve asked Juliette what she saw in Lupin’s unit, but she doesn’t remember.”
Trinidad figured it was time to come clean. She drew in a breath. “About that…actually, Quinn is on his way to—”
Bigley’s phone buzzed. “Excuse me one minute.”
Diego and Carlos returned, glances shifting from Trinidad to the chief. “Uh, we’re all loaded up and ready to go.”
“Great. I’ll just be a minute.”
The boys shuffled slowly to the back door, glancing again at the chief who disconnected the call.
“Has there been another murder?” Diego whispered, his eyes glittering with excitement. “Or maybe an attack or something?” He readied his video camera. “I can hop into my news reporter role at a moment’s notice. I’m versatile that way.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” Trinidad whispered back. “No further slayings that I know of.”
Diego harrumphed.
“I’ve got to run,” the chief said. “There’s a brawl brewing up at Three Egg Lake. Some campers crashed a Jet Ski, and it’s turned ugly. We’ll finish our conversation later, Miss Jones.” She strode out the door, and Trinidad locked it behind her.
“Too bad we can’t go with the chief,” Diego said. “It’d be awesome to witness a brawl at the lake.”
The boys headed for the truck, commiserating over their missed opportunity. She watched the chief zoom away. She hadn’t had a chance to tell her about the photos, but that could still be accomplished when Quinn returned with them. It was the other part of their conversation that floored her. For a moment, Trinidad stood paralyzed, the chief’s words echoing back at her.
“But he loved you three. He wasn’t lying about that part.”
It hit her suddenly that the chief might have another motive for looking deeper into the case. Was she was trying to help the women her brother had betrayed? Maybe Trinidad had judged the chief wrongly after all.
People can be many things, can’t they?
Well, why not?
With that startling thought, Trinidad marched to the food truck. It would be a long day, but, hopefully, a fruitful one. Perhaps, with a little luck, they could finally serve up some justice for Juliette and get her out of that jail and help the chief put away the real killer.
Get those photos, Quinn.
Fast.
***
The time had come for her to climb aboard the hulking food truck. After a few false starts, she guided the enormous thing to Lupin’s home as best she could. It felt like trying to direct an elephant from the inside. At least it was a source of entertainment for the twins. The boys dissolved in laughter as she took some turns ridiculously wide and others so close that the tires jumped up onto the curb. By the final turn, she’d just about gotten the hang of the unwieldy behemoth. She felt a great sense of pride as she rolled the truck into Lupin’s driveway.
Candy Simon did not seem to appreciate her driving prowess as she threw open Lupin’s front door and hurried over.
How does she get such speed on those heels? Trinidad wondered as Candy hustled to the driveway. Her appearance was neat and professional with just a hint of provocativeness in her short tan skirt and V-neck lavender blouse. Now her nails were painted a demure shade of pink. Thinking of the last time she’d seen Candy through the window at her real estate office made Trinidad squirm. She sincerely hoped Candy hadn’t gotten wind of her 911 call.
Candy charged toward the food truck and stopped dead, squinting up at the roof. “What is that thing on the top?”
“There are many theories on that, but actually—” Trinidad started.
“Never mind.” Candy pointed one long elegant finger at the street. “I don’t want that relic parked in the driveway. You have to move it.”
“All right,” Trinidad said in her calmest tone. Keep thinking about the amazing antique ice cream machine, she ordered herself, and the promotional opportunity for the shop instead of the abrasive lady who is bossing you around as if you were a toddler. She caught a whiff of fresh paint as she cranked the engine into reverse. The front of the old house had been given a face-lift with a coat of glossy ivory. There was no doubt who Candy had chosen for the work. Favors indeed.
With the help of Diego and Carlos, who shouted directions from the sidewalk, she was able to parallel park the monster vehicle.
“Further down,” Candy hollered. “Leave room for the potential buyers.”
Teeth gritted, she wiped the perspiration from her brow and eased the truck along a few more feet, grinding the rubber wheels against the curb. Candy watched the whole thing with a scowl on her face, which rapidly transformed into a gracious smile when several cars rolled slowly in view.
“The suckers are arriving,” Diego said in a stage whisper. As the Shimmy and Shake staff unwrapped the utensils and readied the window for orders, the cars pulled into the driveway, dislodging some visitors.
“That’s Stuart Blanding and his wife, Miriam,” Carlos said. “They’re not house hunters; they’re just being nosy. Everyone wants to see what Lupin’s house is like inside. I heard he hid away a coin collection and forgot where he stashed it.”
“Nah, not a coin collection, it was a deed to a gold mine,” his brother put it.
Another car pulled up, and two more people got out. Candy greeted them at the door with an effusive welcome. An RV crowded in behind them. It seemed Candy’s strategy was working.
Warren rattled up in the theater van, Cora in the passenger seat. She looked relaxed, less surly than in her theater surroundings. Trinidad thought she might have even caught the hint of a smile. Warren actually went around and opened the passenger side door for her. Gallantry from him? More surprises, Trinidad thought.
He caught sight of her and waved. It appeared as though he’d decided to head for their truck, but Cora redirected him towards the house by snagging his elbow.
No ice cream until the house is examined, she figured Cora was saying. Why would those two be interested in Lupin’s? Curiosity, like Carlos had suggested? Surely they weren’t in the market to buy the property when their back-to-back condos were in much better shape.
She was so focused on her thoughts, she didn’t notice Vince Jr. waving at her.
She leaned on the window counter. “Hello, Vince. Did you come to see the house? I hear talk of something priceless once hidden in there.”
He shook his head in disgust. “There’s no treasure in there. It’s been gone over by Candy with a microscope and everyone else she’s had trailing through. Who would actually think there was a treasure lying around?” His tone was filled with the arrogant certainty that only a newly emerged adult could manage. “That’s just dumb.”
“How are things going at Store Some More?”
He brightened. “A couple of checks came in. I figured that might cheer up Juliette. That’s actually why I came. I want to go see her, but I’m not on her visitor’s list. Do you think you could get her to add me?”
His look was so plaintive that it struck at her heart. “I’ll ask her, okay?”
“Okay. Let me know when I can go.” He glanced over the hand-printed menu on the side of the truck, his gaze wistful.
“Do you want some ice cream?” Trinidad said. “You can be our first customer.”
“Does it cost anything?”
Just an antique i
ce cream machine and a whole day’s work, she thought. “Not a thing.”
She parceled out a scoop, and Diego eased it into a waffle cone. Vince thanked them, and she thought she saw a bit of lightness creep into his posture as he tasted. It was why she loved everything about ice cream. The glorious creamy stuff was comfort in hard times and the perfect celebration treat. Balm to the soul, as Papa Luis would say. She remembered experimenting with him to create a mango and cream flavor to mimic his favorite sweet snack, a cookie topped with guava and cream cheese. Would Sprocketerians be interested in an unusual flavor combo? Key lime might be risky enough, she’d thought, for small-town Americana, but, lately, she was beginning to think she’d made all kinds of wrong assumptions about the people in this particular town.
When the first few visitors finished touring the house and strolled out, Candy handed them glossy brochures and pointed them to the food truck. “Enjoy an ice cream, courtesy of Simon Realty,” she sang out. “You have my number if you have any questions about the property. Ring me anytime, day or night.”
The flurry of activity started in earnest for the Shimmy and Shake team as the three of them snapped into action.
“What can we get you?” Carlos boomed from the order window. “We’ve got Vanilla Bean, Fresh-picked Strawberry, and Silken Chocolate.”
Diego stood by with a scooper in each hand. “Tell them about the waffle cones,” he whispered.
Carlos launched into an enthusiastic description of the made-from-scratch waffle cones. Trinidad grinned. These boys were naturals. Scooping madly, they dispensed a half dozen ice cream desserts before the next stream of visitors approached.
“Don’t you have banana?” a man in shorts and a red, white, and blue shirt asked. Trinidad pegged him as a holiday camper.
“Not today,” Trinidad hastened to explain, “but the Shimmy and Shake Shop opens on July Fourth on Main Street, and our banana custard will make your mouth water. Plus, we’ll have key lime and maybe a surprise or two.” She handed him a flyer along with his second-choice vanilla dessert.
“All right.” He paused, craning his neck. “I don’t get it, though. What’s the fried egg on top of the truck got to do with ice cream?”
Trinidad started to explain until the line swelled behind him. “It’s a long story. Come to the shop, and I’ll tell you.”
The scooping grew fast and furious as people began to arrive on foot as well, streaming up both sides of the narrow street and hoofing it to the open house. Noodles wagged his tail as folks meandered by the truck. The rising heat began to work in their favor. Who on the planet didn’t want a cold ice cream treat on a sweltering day? She was glad the truck was cool enough to keep Noodles comfortable. Sweat bathed her temples, and the boys both had flushed cheeks.
“Three chocolates and a ’berry,” Diego shouted. “What can I get the next in line?”
Trinidad knew she’d made the right choice hiring the Martin twins. Whoever said teenagers were slackers had never met these two. One of these days she’d have to thank their mother for raising two lifesavers.
***
Trinidad could not resist beaming as she surveyed the happy customers lined up at the van. None of them seemed remotely interested in buying Lupin’s house, but they had plenty of enthusiasm for free ice cream. Noodles enjoyed shoving his head out the passenger window and greeting the guests. Could there be a more adorable mascot? A dozen more scoops left her breathless, her wrist aching from the repetitive motion. Good training for Shimmy’s opening day, she thought. It reminded her she was going to need reinforcements to help run the store when the twins were unavailable, but she’d put off that problem until later. Quickly, she dispensed a strawberry dessert to a woman shielded from view by a wide-brimmed hat. When there was a lull in the line, she climbed out to stretch her legs and see if she could spot Quinn.
“I guess a lick won’t hurt you,” said a familiar voice from beneath the hat.
She twirled around to see Tanya Grant reaching through the passenger window to fondle Noodles’s ears. Shadows under her eyes indicated she had not been sleeping well, but she was impeccably turned out, as always, in a crisp cotton jumpsuit and strappy sandals. She noticed Trinidad staring at her.
“Thought I’d try an ice cream, but your dog here stretched out for a lick while I was adjusting my hat.”
“Oh. I am terribly sorry. Let me get you a new one.”
“No. It’s okay. I like dogs better than people most of the time. They never judge, you know?”
“I sure do. Are you…I mean, did you come to look at the property?” Dumb question, Trinidad. Why else would she be standing there?
She shrugged. “When Sonny and I were together, he used to go on and on about Edward Lupin and his collections. I figured I might as well come and see the place. Doesn’t look like anything but a wreck to me.”
“I agree, but it seems like lots of people were interested in whatever was in there. What did Sonny think it was?”
“Coins, stamps, gold bullion, the crown jewels… I don’t know, and I don’t care. I just figured, if there was any sign of it today, I’d buy the house on the spot and end any chance he had at finding it.” Anger made her voice hard and flat.
“No love lost?”
“None. I used him to make Kevin jealous because Kev was dragging his feet, and I wanted to get married.” She sighed. “I guess I got what I deserved. My father’s private investigator caught Sonny selling a mirror he’d stolen from our home.”
“Oh, wow. That’s shocking.”
One delicate eyebrow hitched up. “The fact that he was stealing or the notion that my father has my boyfriends investigated?”
“Both, I guess.”
“Dad never could find any dirt on Kevin, though he surely did try.” She tasted a tiny lick of ice cream. “I guess it still shocks me, too, that my love life is fodder for private investigators, but I should be used to both by now. Funny. Everybody wants money, but they don’t realize that, when you have it, you never know if people love you for who you are or what’s in your bank account. Dad espouses the concept of ‘financial equality,’ which means he wants a son-in-law as rich as he is.”
“I’m sure Kevin loved you for the right reasons,” Trinidad suggested gently.
“I thought so, but maybe I was wrong about that, too. I have the world’s worst track record.” Another tiny lick. “Perhaps time would have shown him to be an opportunist like all the others, but he died before I could find that out.”
Trinidad searched for something to say. How unutterably sad to wonder, as Tanya did, if she was worthy of love without her shiny million-dollar wrapper.
Tanya toyed with the plastic spoon. “I’ve traveled Europe and been to the opera a million times and stayed in five-star hotels on a regular basis, and you know what my favorite memory is? Eating greasy hot dogs and drinking store-brand soda, sitting on a tattered blanket with Kevin at Three Egg Lake.” A tear traced a gleaming path down her cheek. She wiped it away. “I guess those days are gone forever now, huh?” With a sniff she dumped the unfinished ice cream into the trash container they’d set up.
“I’m sorry, Tanya. Very sorry.”
“Me, too, but that doesn’t bring him back. I understand why people say that now. Nothing is going to fill that empty spot, not even seeing Juliette go to prison for life.”
Trinidad searched for something to say but came up dry.
Tanya lifted her chin. “I’ve planned a memorial for Kevin at the gazebo tomorrow, ten, before it gets too hot.” She looked at Trinidad. “Come if you want.”
“All right. I will.”
“There will be a nice buffet, and Noodles is welcome too.” She sniffed. “See? I’m really not as bad as I seem.”
“You’ve been dealing with some strong emotions.”
“Still am—some that will never go away. At leas
t I know Juliette is going to pay for what she did. I’ll make sure of it. It’s something, anyway.”
Before Trinidad could say another word, Tanya walked off, sliding into her Mercedes and driving smoothly away. Trinidad watched her go.
Tanya would no doubt use her considerable family resources to make sure Juliette lived out her days in prison. Only incontrovertible proof would change her view and that of the town.
She scanned the sidewalks for Quinn. Where was he? The muscles in her stomach cinched tight. She was about to text him when another half dozen people lined up for ice cream and she scrambled back to her duties.
Forty minutes later, Carlos finally set his scooper down into its water bath. “I’m gonna go in and use the bathroom.”
“I don’t think Miss Simon wants us mingling,” Diego said.
The mischievous gleam was back in his twin’s eye. “Miss Simon won’t turn away a hard-working young boy in front of all the potential buyers. Besides,” he said, “I want to sniff around and see if I can nab the deed to the gold mine.”
“It was a coin collection,” his brother insisted.
“I’ll look for that, too. Maybe he hid it under the toilet tank. Nobody ever looks there. Too bad I can’t bring the video cam, but I have my cell phone in case I find something.”
She and Diego tidied up and doled out scoops to the next few patrons. She scanned over their heads searching for Quinn. It was almost 1:30, and she wondered what could be keeping him.
Diego returned, crestfallen. “No sign of any treasure, not in the bathroom or the kitchen anyway.” He brightened. “I saw some dark-haired guy, though, in this sweet classic car. He drove right over the curb and parked his big old boat half up on the sidewalk. Miss Simon almost had a conniption until she figured out he might actually buy the place. The way he was filling his pocket from the candy bowl, he must be some kind of weirdo. That candy was gnarly. Tasted like it was from a World War II army ration or something.” He put a finger to his lip. “Almost busted a tooth on one.”