Murder on Wheels (A Tourist Trap Mystery, #6)

Her grin was infectious. “When are you opening?” I pointed to the food truck. Surely her healthy treats weren’t going to cut into my business. Who would trade a dry cookie for a slice of cheesecake?

“I’m thinking two weeks. I still have to get permits from the city and the health inspector. There’s a lot of paperwork involved in opening something like this. I hadn’t really considered the delays. I got the truck and painted it, then I thought I’d open the next day.” She giggled again. “Austin says I’m hopeless when it comes to business planning. He’s taken on all the details.”

Dustin Austin was the more driven of the two? That couldn’t be a good thing. The man was so laid-back I think he closed the bike rental place anytime he thought the waves were good down the coast. The way these two were going, I wouldn’t have to worry about the competition for customers for months, maybe even years. “Well, good luck.” I reached into my tote for one of my council liaison cards. “We have a monthly meeting of all the businesses, maybe you could come to the next one.”

She took the card and tucked it into a pocket. “I’ll try. I’m not very good with meetings. I tend to get bored easily. I think that’s why I keep getting elected as president of the geo club. I keep the meetings short and then we go have some fun.”

Maybe Kacey had some lessons to teach me, as well. “I’m sure it’s more than that. Anyway, I hope you at least try one. We talk a lot about things we can do as a community to bring in more business. We’ll be planning a spring sidewalk sale for April. All the stores are invited to participate.”

Kacey didn’t look convinced. “I’m really always on the sidewalk. Or at least my customers will be.”

I couldn’t fault her logic. “We do several other activities during the year.” I don’t know why I was trying to talk her into coming. If Sadie saw her at a Business-to-Business meeting, she’d probably rip Kacey’s eyes out.

Or, in actual reality, Sadie would probably break down into tears and go running out the door. She was still really upset about Austin.

“I’ll try.” Kacey’s response sounded weak. I knew she’d never even try to attend, but maybe that was for the better, at least until Sadie’s heart healed just a bit.

“Well, that’s my cue. I’d better get home. I’ve got a ton of things to do before I go back to work tomorrow.”

“Call me when the books come in. I’ll come by and let you sample my newest creation, Summertime Smooth. It’s a lemon cheesecake, completely gluten-free.” She waved and disappeared into the food truck.

I stared after her. Kacey could have gotten the lemon cheesecake recipe from her grandmother or even the Internet, but I doubted it. It wasn’t a coincidence that Austin had asked Sadie for that exact recipe right after he’d broken the I-have-a-wife news. Shaking off my friend’s relationship troubles, I started power-walking toward home, hoping for a quick run on the beach with Emma before Greg was due to arrive.

Opening the front door, I got a full-body-slam welcome from Emma. She covered my entire face with one wet slurp and then sat down and whined quietly. I put my tote on the table next to the door and knelt to hug her. “You miss me, girl?” Emma was a full-blooded golden retriever and Greg’s gift to me last year. He thought I needed protection since I had just moved into the house I’d inherited when my friend Miss Emily died. Turned out Greg was right, as Miss Emily’s distant relatives were none too happy to give up the place.

Now Emma was my running companion and my best non-human friend. I patted her back and stood. “You want to go outside?”

This got me a short bark before she ran to the back door. I let her out and glanced at my home answering machine. Yep, I’m old school. I have a landline and a real answering machine with cassette tapes inside. I’ve thought about looking for a replacement for when this one bites the dust, but I’m sure the guys at the big box store wouldn’t understand what I was talking about. The light was blinking, indicating a message.

Only two people called my landline. Greg, when he couldn’t reach me any other way, and Frank Gleason, my contact with the California Historical Commission. I had the original South Cove Mission, or what was left of it, in my backyard. I’d been working on getting it certified for as long as I’d lived in the house. The one thing I could say about the process? They were certainly thorough. I got my new filtered-water pitcher out of the fridge and filled a travel bottle after I pressed the Play button.