Almond Sprinkle Murder (A Spies and Food Truck Cozy Mystery Book 5) by Rosie A. Point

Author:Rosie A. Point [Point, Rosie A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-09-20T00:00:00+00:00

Twelve

After the commotion at the guesthouse, I sat down in the living room, on an upholstered wingback armchair beside the fire, and considered my next steps. I needed to find out more about the suspects. I didn’t understand why Emma had had such a strong reaction to Damon, or why Stan would be stealing.

Sure, he had given Emma money last night, but why? Because she wanted more, because she deserved more, as he’d put it? Or was there another reason? And was it related to the crime?

There wasn’t much to do except research and ponder the facts or go over my corkboard. I couldn’t leave town, Smulder spent most of his time avoiding me, and the ice cream truck was impounded, so it wasn’t like I could go out and serve ice cream or meet the locals.

And with the restaurant being repaired, the usual staff weren’t coming in.

Perhaps, it was time to ask the residents of the guesthouse questions. Specifically, the woman Emma had come to see on the night of the fire.

I pushed out of my chair and was on my way down the hall, Barkington pattering along beside me, when the guesthouse doors opened.

“Miss Waters.” Detective Pendleton’s voice. “Just the woman I was hoping to see.”

I spun around on the spot, putting up a smile. “Detective. Nice to see you again. We haven’t talked since that first interview.” It was a hint at the fact that he didn’t have evidence to put me behind bars. “How’s the investigation going?”

“I’m not at liberty to share details with you, Miss Waters.”

“Of course,” I said. “I didn’t mean to interfere. I was curious. It’s the only thing anyone in town talks about. The fire, the murders.”

“You’ve been doing a lot of networking in town?”

Fair enough. But I had heard people discussing the murder and the fire in The Coal Porter the other night. In between having my left eardrum perforated.

I picked up Barkington.

“What can I help you with, Detective?” I asked.

He rubbed his eyes.“I’ve got good news for you,” he said. “I’m returning your truck.”

“That’s awesome,” I said.

He beckoned for me to follow him out of the guesthouse, and the sight of the I Scream for Ice Cream truck, with its lurid pink and blue stripes, sent a whoop of joy through my chest. Thank goodness. At least, I had wheels so I could get around town.

Detective Pendleton handed me the keys. “Here you go. Thanks for dropping these off at the police station for me after you found them,” he said. “Try to keep a close eye on your keys this time, all right?”

“Thanks,” I said, then frowned. “What about the other pair?”

“The other pair of keys?”

“Yeah.”

“We never found them,” he said, before bobbing his head and staring off down the road with that purposeful walk. Ian Pendleton, with his spiky gelled hair and his constantly serious demeanor thought he was doing his best work.

He didn’t realize he’d given me vital information about the case.

The ice cream hadn’t been poisoned. The truck was clean.

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