MURDER IN THE SPOTLIGHT (Food Truck Mysteries Book 2) by Chloe Kendrick
Authors: Chloe Kendrick
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crowd was too big to fit around the grave, and many of the reporters and media circled the perimeter like wolves waiting for someone to move away from the pack. I tried to get a view of the family, but I couldn’t very well from my vantage point. Land, who was a good six inches taller than me, easily saw over the heads of most of the spectators.
At one point, he moved aside and said, “There’s something that you have to see.” He pointed to the place where I was supposed to look. I had to stand on my tiptoes to see, but he was right.
Anthony from the bagel truck was being dragged along by an older woman who appeared to want him to sit with the family for the services. The implications of this were huge. The producers had supposedly gone over the background and connections of every contestant, so that there would be no accusations of favoritism by the producers. I had thought it routine at the time, but now that I knew they were willing to throw the competition to a particular contestant based on their own goals, this was more serious. How much had nepotism played a part so far in the competition? I mentally reviewed all of the contests so far in order to try to find examples where Anthony had been given favors. He’d won a couple of the events, but in all honesty, the descriptions of his foods and ingenuity made me think that he’d won them fair and square.
Anthony sat down next to two young girls who bore a striking resemblance to Marsha, right down to their hair buns. It was obvious that he belonged to Marsha’s family. Even Johnny Ruck had said that she was the driving force behind the show. If she had wanted Anthony in the competition, then she had broken the rules to get him there. I wondered if this played into the motives for murder.
We waited around until the graveside service was done, and then we made our move. We said our kind words to the family and greeted Anthony. “I didn’t know that you knew Marsha that well,” I said, pretending to be naïve about the matter.
Anthony ran a finger under his collar. I figured it was a little tight, given what we had discovered. “I’ve known Marsha for a long time,” he said finally.
One of the older women spoke up from across the aisle of folding chairs, “I’ll say you have. She’s your sister’s oldest girl.”
The pronouncement deflated Anthony. He looked as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Yes, yes, I know it’s against the rules,” he said finally.
“Did anyone else at the studio know about your relationship?” Land asked.
Anthony shook his head. “A friend and I had gone into the food truck business about a year ago. Three month ago, the friend filed for bankruptcy. He skipped out on some bills and left me with the truck. It was about to pull me under too, and Marsha got the idea to add me to the show. She thought that the added publicity might just help pull up sales enough to keep me afloat.”
“So she faked the paperwork?” I asked.
Anthony looked at me. I felt bad asking him these questions at the funeral, but if it hadn’t been for the services, we might never have known that he was related to Marsha. I doubted that he would come forward with a good motive to keep Marsha quiet. “Not really. She told the producers that I was good for the show, but her actual paperwork correctly listed me as a relative of one of the staff. She knew that none of the producers would ever pull the sheets to look at them.”
“They just relied on her?” I asked, thinking of the times that Marsha had given Johnny Ruck the clipboards and note cards. She could have put almost anything down on those pages, and he would have read it verbatim. She’d done Ruck’s work for so long that he trusted everything that she did. A trusted assistant was invaluable—as long as you could trust her. I wondered if there were any other violations of the show that Marsha had perpetrated.
“Yeah, she could do no wrong in that office. So
At one point, he moved aside and said, “There’s something that you have to see.” He pointed to the place where I was supposed to look. I had to stand on my tiptoes to see, but he was right.
Anthony from the bagel truck was being dragged along by an older woman who appeared to want him to sit with the family for the services. The implications of this were huge. The producers had supposedly gone over the background and connections of every contestant, so that there would be no accusations of favoritism by the producers. I had thought it routine at the time, but now that I knew they were willing to throw the competition to a particular contestant based on their own goals, this was more serious. How much had nepotism played a part so far in the competition? I mentally reviewed all of the contests so far in order to try to find examples where Anthony had been given favors. He’d won a couple of the events, but in all honesty, the descriptions of his foods and ingenuity made me think that he’d won them fair and square.
Anthony sat down next to two young girls who bore a striking resemblance to Marsha, right down to their hair buns. It was obvious that he belonged to Marsha’s family. Even Johnny Ruck had said that she was the driving force behind the show. If she had wanted Anthony in the competition, then she had broken the rules to get him there. I wondered if this played into the motives for murder.
We waited around until the graveside service was done, and then we made our move. We said our kind words to the family and greeted Anthony. “I didn’t know that you knew Marsha that well,” I said, pretending to be naïve about the matter.
Anthony ran a finger under his collar. I figured it was a little tight, given what we had discovered. “I’ve known Marsha for a long time,” he said finally.
One of the older women spoke up from across the aisle of folding chairs, “I’ll say you have. She’s your sister’s oldest girl.”
The pronouncement deflated Anthony. He looked as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Yes, yes, I know it’s against the rules,” he said finally.
“Did anyone else at the studio know about your relationship?” Land asked.
Anthony shook his head. “A friend and I had gone into the food truck business about a year ago. Three month ago, the friend filed for bankruptcy. He skipped out on some bills and left me with the truck. It was about to pull me under too, and Marsha got the idea to add me to the show. She thought that the added publicity might just help pull up sales enough to keep me afloat.”
“So she faked the paperwork?” I asked.
Anthony looked at me. I felt bad asking him these questions at the funeral, but if it hadn’t been for the services, we might never have known that he was related to Marsha. I doubted that he would come forward with a good motive to keep Marsha quiet. “Not really. She told the producers that I was good for the show, but her actual paperwork correctly listed me as a relative of one of the staff. She knew that none of the producers would ever pull the sheets to look at them.”
“They just relied on her?” I asked, thinking of the times that Marsha had given Johnny Ruck the clipboards and note cards. She could have put almost anything down on those pages, and he would have read it verbatim. She’d done Ruck’s work for so long that he trusted everything that she did. A trusted assistant was invaluable—as long as you could trust her. I wondered if there were any other violations of the show that Marsha had perpetrated.
“Yeah, she could do no wrong in that office. So
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