Free 1 Death on Eat Street by J.J. Cook

wherever possible.
    “Thanks so much for doing this.” I smiled at him, hoping my eyes weren’t glistening with tears. If he’d remarked on it, I would’ve told him I had allergies.
    “No problem. It’s not easy getting over your first dead body.”
    “You’ve seen a lot of them?”
    “I’ve seen my share.”
    “Not because you’re a lawyer. My mother would never leave the house again if she’d ever seen a dead body that wasn’t at a funeral.”
    He laughed. “It comes with the territory when you’re an assistant DA. It never gets any better. You have to develop a tough skin for it, like cops do.”
    He didn’t look very tough. I wondered what he thought of me.
    I admit that I took advantage of him and had him drive the food truck around the impound lot a few times before I took over. When I finally got behind the wheel again, Miguel was right; all I could see was him driving me around, trying to help me feel better.
    “I think I have it. Thanks again.” On impulse (it was either this or hugging him) I said, “I want to cook for you. Dinner would be nice. I have to work tomorrow. What about tonight?”
    It was about as forward as I had ever been with a man I didn’t know well. Since Tommy Lee had been my only boyfriend since college, I wasn’t even sure I was saying it right. I winced, waiting for his response. It was too late to develop that tough skin Miguel had talked about in case he said no.
    “I’d love to. At the diner?”
    “Absolutely. Seven P.M. Don’t dress up. I can’t guarantee that the counter stools won’t ruin good clothes.”
    “Great. See you then.”
    I drove the food truck back to the diner with a light heart and a smile on my face that wouldn’t quit. I even turned on the spinning biscuit on top of the Biscuit Bowl and enjoyed the funny looks I got from people as I passed.
    I had every right to be happy. I’d been accused of murder, and that charge had been withdrawn. I’d broken up with my boyfriend, and maybe found someone new to be interested in. And I’d eluded my parents’ designs for me once again.
    Yes, I could be blissful.
    Ollie was waiting at the diner when I got back. He was excited when I told him I wasn’t on the suspect list anymore. We walked down to the homeless shelter and gave Marty the news. He invited me to stay for cake—a donation from a bakery on the other side of town—to celebrate.
    I couldn’t. There was so much to do before tomorrow morning if I was going to take out the food truck again and make dinner for Miguel that night. It already felt like it had been a week since I’d had the fight with Terry.
    I put on my rubber gloves and old jeans. Crème Brûlée watched me like he thought I was demented. I gave him a few cat treats and put him back in the office.
    Since Ollie had hunted for rats there, I hadn’t see any sign of them. I knew we both appreciated Ollie’s efforts. It might mean Crème Brûlée could feel comfortable at the diner and not have to accompany me when I went out to sell biscuit bowls tomorrow morning.
    The back of the food truck was a mess. It looked like a hurricane had gone through. My food and cooking utensils were flung everywhere. It took me an hour just to get everything back where it belonged.
    I didn’t know about other food truck owners, but for me, everything needed to be in its place. There wasn’t much space to keep the biscuits warm and the savory fillings hot. I also had a small refrigerator to keep the dessert fillings cold. There were specific spoons for each filling.
    I hadn’t really experienced a large crowd of people, but I was organized and ready for them when they came.
    At least I hoped they’d come.
    Once the back of the food truck was scrubbed clean and ready for the next day, I moved into the driver’s area. I got out the disinfectant again and scrubbed both seats, the floor, and the dashboard. The doors came next, and then I cleaned the windows inside and out.
    I thought about Terry as