MURDER TO GO (Food Truck Mysteries Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

glad to see Land enter the truck about 40 minutes later. He didn’t say a word about the truck’s new location. In fact, he didn’t say a word at all.
    I had just gone out to prop open the panel to start service when another food truck pulled up. It was a Taco truck that I hadn’t seen before. The man behind the wheel threw an empty can at the Dogs on the Roll truck. “Hey, get out of Fred’s spot,” he shouted, so loudly that it echoed up the street. “You have no right.”
    I shrugged. “There’s no rule about spots. We all tend to stay where we’re at, but Fred’s truck won’t be back for ages—if ever. So why should a good spot go to waste?”
    The man glared at me. His face was red from his ears to his plump neck. “You’re a vulture, you know that? A vulture. I hope you’re next.”
    The vision of Fred came back to me, and I shivered as a cold wave ran down my spine. I did not want to be next by any means. I wondered if the location of Fred’s truck had been a factor in the murder. Had someone else wanted this spot badly enough to kill for it?
    He drove off and I looked out at the vista from my new location. The entire front of the government building faced the truck, so that everyone coming in and out of the structure got a clear view of the logo and the truck. We would be hard to forget after a few weeks of this.
    The questions were put out of my head by the start of the morning rush. I had been right. We probably served another 50 customers on top of our regulars. Land grumbled because his usual number of servings was less than what we needed, and he had to go back twice to make more salsa and horseradish mustard. He went on for a good 20 minutes about why anyone would want horseradish at 7 a.m., but he made the mustard with the same precision and taste as he always did. I kept the coffee pots filled and handled the increased flow of dollars into the till.
    The rush had trickled off by 9 a.m., and I had begun the prep for the lunch shift when a knock came at the door to the truck. I hadn’t seen anyone approach, which meant that they’d come from the street and not the building. I opened the door just a few inches and peered out.
    Detective Danvers stood there with his badge out for me to see. I wasn’t sure why I was getting the official treatment, but I opened the door and asked, “What can I do for you?”
    Danvers motioned me to step down from the truck. I alit gently, rather than with my usual thud as I hit the ground. I stood there, waiting for him to respond.
    “So this is your new location?” he asked finally. It seemed like an innocuous question, but I immediately saw the implications behind it. Land had been right. The man was canny.
    I nodded. “It seemed a shame to leave the spot empty.”
    He looked at me for a moment and then spoke. “I need you to come to the station with me for a few minutes. We have a few questions for you.”
    “What?” I asked, feeling like I was on one of the myriad cop shows on TV. He probably would have said “come downtown” except we were already there. I wasn’t sure why I was being asked to answer some questions. “Can’t I answer any questions here?”
    “Are you refusing to come with me?” he asked, scribbling in his little notebook again. I knew that I was under suspicion and that my refusal would only make things worse. I wondered if I needed a lawyer, but I had no idea how to find a criminal lawyer. Mr. Huff was a wizened little man who had handled Alice’s estate, but I doubted that he would know the first thing about bail and hearings.
    “No. I’ll go, but I’m curious as to why I’m being asked to come in for questioning. That’s a fairly simple request.”
    He closed the notebook and shoved it into his pocket. “We got an anonymous tip naming you as a possible suspect in the homicide. Among the issues that were raised was the fact that you jumped into the lucrative spot that was used by Meat Treats before today. I came to