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food truck tour became a convenient way to leave town, at least for a little while.”
    “What happened to the restaurant manager?”
    “She was assaulted on her way to the bank to make a deposit.”
    “Is she okay?”
    “Concussion. Not good, but could be worse. She’ll be okay eventually.”
    “That’s good. Mind if I ask how much the deposit was? I’m just trying to get a feel for the size of the restaurant.”
    Harry looked at me with his intelligent brown eyes. They were such friendly eyes. Even when he’d been in the middle of some of the most terrifying moments life could throw your way, his eyes had remained friendly. I knew. I’d experienced some of the terror with him. Right now his friendly eyes told me that he was about to say something important. I listened closely.
    “Fifty thousand dollars,” Harry said quietly, no matter that no one was close enough to eavesdrop.
    “Good grief!”
    “The alleged thief had been put in charge of the restaurant the previous week. She claims that before the manager went on vacation, she told her not to take any deposits to the bank. The manager would take care of the money when she got back.”
    “That doesn’t make sense.”
    “No, it doesn’t, and the manager claims she never made that request.”
    “This is not looking good for the food truck woman.”
    “No, particularly when after the assault and the suspicious exit from the restaurant office, she was able to open her food truck. And with cash, from what I understand. There wereno bank records of the money’s movement until the seller of the food truck put it in her bank account.”
    “Why haven’t you already arrested her?”
    “It’s still all circumstantial, Becca. No proof, but I’m working on it. Or I hope to somehow catch her either in her lies or doing something else illegal.”
    “Good luck. I hope you get her. What’s her name? I’ll keep an eye on her, too.”
    “Peyton Chase.”
    I’d never experienced a real choke-on-your-drink moment. When Harry said the chef’s name, I hadn’t even been taking a sip. Technically I guess I choked on the sharp intake of air that accompanied my gasp. The name was too unusual for it not to be attached to the person I thought it was attached to. Peyton. Arizona. Food truck. Until he’d said her name, I hadn’t considered that my cousin might be a part of Harry’s “business.”
    “Wait, did you say Peyton Chase?” I said after I recovered.
    “I did. You okay?” He sat forward on the chair and set his coffee on the floor.
    “Fine. Hang on one second, Harry,” I said. I pulled out my phone and pushed the button for Allison. With whatever good juju I might have, I willed that she answer this time.
    “Hey, Becs, what’s up?” she said.
    “Peyton Chase,” I said.
    “Yeah?”
    “She’s one of the food truck people.”
    “She is? Hang on.” Allison must have been in her office. I heard papers shuffle and a drawer open and close. “Yes! The hot dog truck. I had no idea.”
    “Our Peyton Chase?” I said.
    “I thought she was in Arizona, but if it’s Peyton, who knows what she’s up to? But why would she travel this far?”
    “I think it’s our Peyton, Allison.”
    “Okay. That’s great!”
    “Maybe.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I’ll tell you later. Gotta go.”
    “Uh, okay. Well, the trucks should start arriving in about half an hour. Be here if you want.”
    “Will do.” I ended the call and looked at Harry.
    “What’s going on, Becca?” he said. He hadn’t removed his hat yet. He did now, setting it on the floor next to his coffee, punctuating the sudden seriousness of the moment.
    “Harry, I have a cousin named Peyton Chase. I know she moved to Arizona in search of herself and an adventure. We were all pretty excited when we heard she got a food truck, but I never learned the details. I don’t know if hers is a gourmet hot dog truck. I wonder if we’re talking about the same Peyton. But . . . how could it not