Free A GRAVE CONCERN (Food Truck Mysteries Book 8) by Chloe Kendrick Page B

that I would still ask a few questions regardless.
    I went back to the food truck again. Carter eyed me and said, “Planning on staying awhile?” He grinned as he said it, and I was happy to see that he could still smile about things.
    I gave him a smile in return. “You never know. I may take a lunch break.”
    The rest of the shift was uneventful. The crowd was constant and ordering more than usual. Twice, Carter had to go back and make more condiments. A good day was when he had to go back once. I couldn’t figure out what had caused the uptick in business, but I was glad for it.
    Land rolled in before I left for the day, and I went over to visit him, making my third trip from the food truck that day, a fact that was not lost on Carter.
    However, this was the most enjoyable of my trips today, and I told Land about the other two visitors after we spent several minutes consulting on another matter. Land was not happy about Sabine’s new job, echoing some of the same complaints that Danvers had made earlier. “What does she think she’s doing?” Land asked for the fourth time. “She’s only going to get herself in trouble.”
    I shrugged. “Apparently Mr. Preston has a habit of hiring young, pretty girls for the gallery. Brianna made a comment about that.”
    “He’d better leave her alone if he knows what’s good for him,” Land said. I thought it was a threat until he continued. “I remember a time when she broke a man’s arm back in the old country, when a man got too fresh with her—and she was only sixteen then.”
    I raised my eyebrow. Apparently self-defense skills ran in the Mendoza family. I’d have to brush up on mine after the wedding to keep up with the rest of the family. I had to wonder why she needed martial arts experience as a teenager.
    I didn’t mention that Danvers had confirmed he was dating Sabine or that I knew he’d been aware of it for months. I neglected to tell Land that I was going home to pry into Carter’s paperwork to see if I could get his father to step up and help the family. And I certainly didn’t tell him that I had an idea of who Carter might be related to.
    Land was going to have an early evening, which I was fine with after our late night at the party. So we kissed again, and I headed back to the original truck. Carter had almost finished cleaning, so I rushed through the cash drawer and prepped the bank envelope for the deposit.
    I took the truck back, made the deposit, and headed home.
    ***
    While I was anxious to help Carter, it was after 7 p.m. by the time I got around to checking his employment papers. I’d taken a nap on the sofa while watching the afternoon news. There was no new information on the murder case, and the police were following up leads, which meant they had nothing.
    When I awoke, the shadows fell long across the room. I turned on the apartment lights and made myself a quick dinner. I was glad of the quiet and solitude tonight. I had enjoyed our night out, but I was now remembering with a vengeance how bad it was to work the next day. I was getting too old for this.
    After my dinner, which consisted of soup and a small salad since I had to cook it myself, I willed my tired body to look for the papers. I went into the office, which had been the spare bedroom of the apartment. When I’d moved in, I’d found a body in this room, which I remembered from time to time. Now was one of those times. The filing cabinets stood in a row, and I opened the drawer for E , as in employees .
    I pulled it out, went to the kitchen, and poured myself some tea. I sat down at the table and started to skim through it. Carter Smith had been born on June 17th, two years later than me, making him 23. He listed his schools and his relevant experience. He had his mother’s contact information listed, as well as the names and ages of his brothers and sisters. I flipped down the page, looking for his father’s name.
    Down at the bottom of the page, I found the name.