Key Lime Crime: Sunny Shores Mysteries Book 1 Read online

  “New money?”

  “It’s when someone originally has little or no money, then later inherits a fortune or marries into it. Because they’ve lived most of their lives without money, they have to flaunt it in front of everyone.”

  “I’m surprised her husband is so well off. Does his restaurant do that great?”

  “His restaurant business has been down in the last couple of years. In fact, your little group of food truck friends almost put him out of business. Why do you think he started a truck of his own?”

  “From what I heard, he made his fortune in real estate. The restaurant business is just a side venture for him.”

  “Maybe so, but he’s a very competitive person. Most would say to a fault. He’s the type that won’t rest until he’s number one.”

  I laughed. “I don’t think I have much to worry about then. I’m not getting rich anytime soon, based on my sales so far.”

  I finished up my coffee and settled up with Bonnie May. I could sit and talk all day, but a lot of work needed to be done before I opened the truck. So I walked over to Grove Park to begin my day.

  Today was like any other day since I began my foray into the food truck business. It was 8:15 a.m. and Grove Park was quiet. As I began to whip cream with my spatula, the only sound I could hear was the swaying of the orange groves from the cool ocean breeze.

  The Burger She Wrote food truck had been opened for business about two weeks, and business boomed.

  I named it the Burger She Wrote food truck for a couple of reasons. It was a play on words based on the Murder She Wrote television series. I must have seen every episode a hundred times each. My typical Friday night was a Netflix and chill night. I binge watched Murder She Wrote on Netflix while chilling with a few glasses of chardonnay. I stopped telling this to people once Star explained to me that Netflix and chill had another, more scandalous meaning.

  The other obvious reason was that it was a food truck that served hamburgers. I’ll admit that selling hamburgers and fries from a food truck wasn’t my first choice, but no other truck in the park offered this option. Burgers and fries seemed like a natural fit for a tourist destination visited by families with kids.

  Although I cooked a pretty darn good hamburger if I say so myself, the main draw of my business was the desserts. Creating cupcakes, pies, cakes, and other tasty treats had been a passion of mine since I was a child using my Easy Bake Oven.

  I tried to incorporate this into my business by offering a standard dessert menu, as well as a special dessert of the day. It wasn’t unusual for me to sell out of my dessert items shortly after lunch.

  Although I didn’t officially open for business until 11 a.m., there was a ton of work that had to be done in preparation. Because I insisted on having baked goods prepared daily, my day started around 8 a.m. There had to be plenty of time to do the mixing, baking, and decorating involved in crafting the perfect treat. Most of my deserts required baking, which took longer than cooking something on the grill. Having only one oven slowed things down as well.

  For these reasons, I was normally the first food truck owner at the park each morning. That was why it was a surprise to hear a loud voice shouting in the distance. I put down my spatula and peeked out the large window of the truck. It was Carlos Martinez talking to his wife.

  My nosy tendencies wouldn’t allow me to keep my nose in my business. That would have been too easy. Carlos Martinez and his wife Maria operated the Loco Taco truck, which sat parked in the lot next to mine.

  “You two are here early this morning,” I said as I walked in front of their truck. “Is everything OK?”

  “It’s nothing, Kara,” Maria replied as Carlos continued to mutter words under his breath in Spanish.“My hot-head of a husband is stressing over nothing.”

  “Nothing?!” Carlos exclaimed, a vein looking like it was about to pop out of his head. I’m not sure if I’d ever seen anyone’s face turn that shade of red before. “Our sales are down over thirty percent since that crook stole my spot. That is not nothing.”

  “Do you think our sales are really going to matter if you have a heart attack or a stroke?” Maria said as she put her arms around him. “The doctor told you that added stress wasn’t good for your heart. He said you needed to calm down. Remember the breathing exercise?”

  Carlos took a deep breath. “I know. It’s just frustrating. I spent years building my business only to have someone cheat their way ahead of me.”

  In all honesty, Carlos spoke the truth.

  Grove Park was the access point to the Sunny Shores public beach, which was the main tourist draw of the town. Besides the beach itself, the town's new boardwalk recently opened adjacent to the park. The park provided plenty of parking for guests and stayed full the majority of the summer.

  In a stroke of genius three years back, Carlos figured out what Grove Park was missing. Food.

  The closest restaurants or dining establishments were located downtown. Although it wasn’t a long walk from the park, it was inconvenient for many families with small children.

  No one had tried to build a restaurant closer to the park due to the lack of open space and available land. There just wasn’t enough room to open a full-size restaurant. Carlos saw this and dreamed up the idea to open a food truck business inside the park.

  The idea for starting a food truck business came into Carlos’s head while watching a reality show on the Food Network. The show was a competition between various food truck owners. On that episode, the competitors parked near a beach. This set off a light in Carlos’s head.

  Carlos wasted no time and purchased a food truck of his very own. With the approval of the city council, he acquired a permit to park in a grassy lot, adjacent to the public beach entrance. He dubbed his truck the Loco Taco and sold delicious tacos and other Mexican specialties.

  As it turned out, his food truck was a hit. It was so busy that he couldn’t keep up with demand. This caused other people in the town to take notice.Soon others opened food trucks of their own. By the second summer of operation, there were five independent food trucks set up in Grove Park.

  Since everyone respected Carlos for starting the trend, no one tried to take his spot. It was an unwritten code between food truck owners. Once someone claimed a spot, each owner respected the other’s boundaries. That was until the lottery.

  One councilman, John Harmon, introduced a bill to assign lots to specific food trucks by doing a random lottery. The town council conveniently held the lottery drawing behind closed doors. Even more convenient than that, the Mama Mia Italian food truck received the most coveted lot space, Carlos’s spot. Coincidentally enough, the Mama Mia Italian truck was owned by John Harmon himself.

  Obviously, Carlos had every right to be upset with the town council, especially with John Harmon.

  “Hang in there, Carlos,” I said, trying to defuse the situation. “You make the best tacos this side of the Atlantic. Things will turn around soon. I’m sure of it.”

  We exchanged a few more pleasantries, and then I headed back to my truck to finish the last of the prep work. At the same time, Star showed up for work. We would spend the next few hours getting ready for the lunch rush.

  “What are you doing here on a Tuesday?” I asked as Len Arlen walked up to the window of my truck. “I thought you only delivered here on Thursdays.”

  Len Arlen was in my grade growing up. His father owned the local propane dealership, and he went to work with him after graduation. Len’s company delivered once a week to the park on Thursday. Seeing him so early in the week was unusual.

  “That’s normally the case, but the Loco Taco and another truck ordered an additional delivery. For some reason, they needed an extra tank. I’m not going to argue because it’s more money for us.”

  “That’s true.”

  “Besides, it gives me an excuse to drop by for a piece of your Key lime pie.”

  One of the perks of owning my own food truck was the opportunity
to meet and interact with a variety of people, including friends I grew up with. In addition, I enjoyed chatting with the tourists that came through Grove Park each day. My business afforded me the opportunity to meet people from all walks of life.

  My truck was not only visited by tourists, but by the town folks as well. The people of Sunny Shores were an interesting bunch, to say the least. I was enjoying getting reacquainted with the people of the town, but there were a few I wasn't so happy to see.

  3

  "Well if it isn't little Kara-bear," said a familiar voice, while my back faced the window. "I'd heard through the grapevine you were back in town."

  Oh, great, I thought, as I paused a moment before responding.

  I knew who it was without taking a peek. It was none other than the Mayor of Sunny Shores himself, Mr. Roy Coltrane, otherwise known as my ex-boyfriend's father. I’d not seen or spoken with Mr. Coltrane since the breakup.

  As a way to help shake the awkwardness off, I took a deep breath, then put on a fake smile before turning around.

  It didn’t help.

  "Hi, Mr. Coltrane," I said. "How are you this morning?"

  Mr. Coltrane, while loud and brash, was a short, portly man. If you’d ever watched the show The Dukes of Hazzard, he looked and acted like Boss Hog himself. He strutted around the town in his trademark white cowboy hat and bright Hawaiian shirts.

  "How many times have I told you, Kara? Call me Roy. Mr. Coltrane sounds so formal. Besides, you were always like a daughter to me," he replied. "Actually, you almost were until you two broke up."

  "About that, Roy. I'm sorry I've never had a chance to explain. I had a lot going on at the time, and I…"

  Before I could finish explaining, Mayor Roy interrupted as if he didn't care what I had to say. In fact, his son was exactly the same way. The apple didn't fall from the tree in that regard.

  "No need to explain anything to me, darling. I know how women can be sometimes. I've married three, so I have experience,” he said as he began to chuckle.

  As he laughed, his belly jiggled like a bowl of jello.

  "Excuse me?" Star said, as she couldn't take listening to him any longer. "What's your problem with Kara?"

  "Oww wee, who's this little firecracker?" he said in a creepy, stranger-in-a-van type of way. "She's a feisty one."

  Star responded by giving Mayor Roy the stare of death. Her emerald green eyes could have pierced a hole through him. I quickly spoke up before she could say anything else.

  "This is Star. She's helping run the truck this summer."

  Mayor Roy looked over in Star’s direction and smiled. “When Kara gives up this silly dream and comes back to reality, I may be looking for an intern. Think about it, sweetheart.”

  He gave Star a wink. Taking a gander at Mayor Roy, you wouldn’t take him for being the obnoxious flirt he was. The job of mayor and power that the office held went straight to his bald head. He acted as if he were untouchable. Unfortunately for him, Star was about to test that theory with a slap across his face.

  I could see Star getting angrier by the second. The last thing I needed was my employee assaulting the town’s mayor, even if he deserved it. To calm the tension, I changed the subject as swiftly as I could.

  “So what can I get for you this morning, Roy?”

  “Hmm… I’m a bit hungry, now that you mention it,” he said as his eyes glanced over to the glass case where the blueberry muffins were sitting.

  “I’ll have one of those muffins and a large Coke.”

  “Star, will you fix the Mayor’s drink, while I ring him up?”

  Star whispered under her breath, “I’ll fix him alright…”

  “That’ll be four dollars and fifty cents,” I said as I handed him his muffin.

  He opened his wallet and pulled out a five dollar bill. “Keep the change, girls,” he said as he slammed the bill on the counter.

  Star begrudgingly handed him his soda. He tipped his hat and went on his way.

  “Why do you let him talk to you that way?” Star asked. “It’s not like you’re dating his son anymore. You don’t need to take his crap.”

  “My grandmother always said you catch more flies with honey.”

  Star shook her head. “My grandmother said revenge is a dish best served cold.”

  He’d intimidated me from the moment I met him. My ex thought it was silly when I told him how I felt about his father, but it was serious to me. In his eyes, I never felt like I was good enough for his son.

  “He’s gone now, so it doesn’t matter now. No use in worrying about it.”

  “If you say so,” Star replied. “But if it makes you feel any better, I gave him Diet Coke instead of regular. Maybe he’ll get the hint.”

  4

  “Order up,” Star yelled back as she placed the order ticket on the counter. “One Bacon and Clue Cheese medium well, hold the mayo. Side of cheese fries.”

  “Cheese fries?” I asked. “I don’t recall that being on the menu. Are you sure you’re getting the name right?”

  “Seriously, Kara?” She sighed heavily before reluctantly replying. “Pardon me. One order of Cheese Fries and Alibis.” She rolled her eyes, as I tried to keep a straight face.

  I knew good and well what she was referring to, but I wanted her to say the correct name. A lot of time and effort went into creating those names. Corny or not, the names played into the theme of the truck.

  Truth be told, I needed to worry about the grill more than Star’s lack of enthusiasm. Orders stacked up fast, as the line grew to five people deep. I felt trapped in the weeds.

  Although I loved baking the best, I grew to enjoy the chaos of manning the grill. It tested my skills of multitasking each day, but I loved it. Staying busy made the time fly by. In addition to that, the busier we were, the more money I was earning. In other words, one step closer to owning my dream café downtown.

  The Bacon and Clue Cheese burger was the daily special and proved to be a favorite among the tourists and locals. The burger consisted of a fresh half-pound Angus beef patty with melted crumbled blue cheese, direct from the local dairy farm. I finished it off with crispy, applewood bacon and a homemade citrus chipotle BBQ sauce.

  I learned to appreciate the period of time between the end of lunch rush and beginning of dinner. Those few hours provided much needed downtime. Business in the park slowed to a crawl, with a few customers trickling in from time to time.

  At that point in the day, most day tourists headed home. Grove Park became calm and quieter. On most days you could hear the waves breaking in the distance, with faint sounds of children laughing and playing in the surf.

  Star cleaned around the truck, while I restocked and prepped for dinner. I enjoyed this time for other reasons as well. It allowed an opportunity for Star and me to talk and get to know each other better.

  “So what really happened to you?” Star asked as she glanced up from the sink. “I’m still trying to comprehend your reasoning for dropping out of school mid-semester.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally being selfish here, but I’m glad you did. I desperately needed a job,” she said. “I can’t believe you walked away from a full scholarship to law school.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Ty.”

  “What else has he told you?” I asked.

  “I just figured that we should try to open up to each other, since we’re going to be working so close all summer.”

  I answered her with the same stock answer I’d given everyone else who asked. “We were high school sweethearts who grew apart.”

  I kept the true reason hidden from everyone. Not even my mother or best friend knew the real truth as to why we broke up.

  “Cut the crap, Kara,”

  I racked my brain for a witty response. Nothing came.

  “He changed, and I didn’t,” I explained. “In high school, he was funny, sweet, and charming. I fell head over hee
ls for him.”

  “And then?”

  “It wasn’t an abrupt change, but it occurred in subtle doses. Before I knew it, he was cold and heartless. Our plans didn’t matter. Everything was about him, and how he could get ahead. No matter who he had to hurt to get there. Including me.”

  “That does suck,” Star replied. “Do you think people really change? Or do they eventually reveal their true selves?”

  That was an excellent question which I didn’t have an answer to.

  I continued. “And when my father died, a moment in which I really needed him, he wasn’t there for me.”

  “What about Ty?” she asked. “You two seem to get along well. I’m shocked that you two haven’t dated. You both seem to be a match.”

  I laughed. “Me and Ty? You’re funny.”

  “Why’s that so funny? You both are dorky and cute together.”

  I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or an insult. Ty and I had been friends since I moved to Sunny Shores as a child. At this point, imagining him as anything other than a friend seemed weird.

  “We were boyfriend and girlfriend in the third grade, but only for one day.”

  “What happened?”

  “He stole my Ninja turtle doll.”

  Before I could continue, we heard a loud commotion from the other side of the park.

  "Who the hell do you think you are?" screamed a voice from across the quad.

  Curious, Star and I walked outside the truck. We crept a few yards closer to get a better peek. We were doing our parts as concerned citizens. Wait, who was I kidding? We were just being nosy neighbors.

  "I do everything around here," the other voice shouted. "I deserve some respect. Give me some appreciation for crying out loud."

  "I give you a lot of things, including a job. No one else would. You should be thanking me."

  The fighting and screaming originated from behind the Mama Mia food truck. The two who caused the ruckus were John Harmon and his step-son Chris. Both men stood directly in front of one another, both shouting in each other's face.