“Aiden.” Her voice took on a wheedling tone. “I really am sorry. I guess I was just feeling a little jealous. Let me make you dinner tonight, some dessert”—she winked—“as a proper apology,” she whispered.
Why wouldn’t she just leave me alone? “No.”
She leaned into me. “I remember a time when?—”
Carol came out of the back room, a check extended. On seeing Nancy, she quickly dropped her hand and smiled. “Jen, could you show Nancy those darling earrings that just came in?”
Nancy looked back and forth between us. “What are you two up to?”
Carol glanced at me before focusing on Nancy. “Could you give us a few minutes, dear? We’re in the middle of something.”
Nancy didn’t move. I wanted out of here. Now. I held out my hand for the check. Carol passed it to me. I folded it without even looking, stuffing it into my back pocket. I nodded my thanks to Carol and left, Jen trying unsuccessfully not to watch me.
I needed to punch something. Hard. When I got back to the cruiser, my radio squawked. “Chief?”
I picked up the handset. “Cavanaugh.”
“Hey, Chief. We just received another call. Cupcake versus food truck.”
Perfect. Maybe I could punch Chuck. “Yeah, I got it.”
I pulled up next to the food truck a few minutes later. Trudy, the cupcake lady, pushed opened her door and pointed at the truck. “He won’t even respond to me. I can hear him banging around in there, but he won’t answer me or move that damn truck!”
I held up a hand. “Got it.” For once, the side panel wasn’t opened. I pounded on it. “Chuck! Open up.”
I heard what sounded like a squeak and a chuff.
“You know you can’t be here.” Nothing. I pounded on the side of the truck again. Bark. What the hell? “Will you open this damn panel?” Nothing.
“Fine. Have it your way, Chuck. I’m writing the ticket right now.” I pulled my citation book off my belt.
“Wait!” The voice was muffled but much higher than it should have been. The panel rose an inch. A plastic knife was pushed out.
“Is that supposed to be a threat?”
The knife tipped onto its side and the panel door fell back down. “Damn it!” There was a grunt. Little fingers peeked out a moment before a metal bar took their place. The panel stayed open an inch and a half. “Please don’t write a ticket! I’ll get fired.”
I knew that voice. “Katie?”
“Um, who?” Another chuff and then a shush.
“Katie, do you have a dog in a food truck? Do you have any idea how many health codes that violates?”
Silence. “None?”
My head pounded painfully with the humiliation of the jewelry store. The check in my back pocket felt like it weighed ten pounds. Rubbing my forehead, I said, “What are you doing in there?”
“No hablo inglés.”
“Damn it, Katie. I don’t have the time or patience for this today.”
Pause. “Why? What’s wrong?”
I stared at the dirty white side panel of the truck.
“I’m a good listener, Chief.” Chuff. “See? Chaucer agrees. Um, you know, if he were here, which he totally isn’t.” She mumbled, “Shush. We’re being stealthy. Remember?”
The tightness in my shoulders loosened. “I just returned the ring I bought for the fiancée who dumped me.”
