MURDER IN THE SPOTLIGHT (Food Truck Mysteries Book 2) (10 page)

The next day flew by. Land seemed to be back to normal, and I’d still had no call back from Rochelle. So after we dropped the truck off at the secured lot, I headed to the studio. Fortunately, Jim Jackson was in his office when I found my way to the producer’s suite. He looked harried, but he heard me out as I asked to listen to the last set of video journals from the show. I didn’t think it was a big breach of security since I’d heard most of the contestants say far worse things to each other.

He set me up in an office and clicked on a file on the server. I was glad that he hadn’t put me back into the same conference room I’d been in the other day. I could still remember the pitch darkness and the fright in learning that the person behind the murders might have been that close to me. I wasn’t up for a reoccurrence of that event again. My nerves couldn’t handle it.

I began watching with a segment by Jerry. The sight of the green room made a shiver run down my spine. Jerry settled himself into the seat and began to talk about the show and his truck. The segment was incredibly bland, and I knew that the producers would likely not use any of that footage on the show. I kept watching as contestant after contestant came onto the screen and talked about the show.

The thing that I found after watching most of these clips was that we’d all run out of things to say. The show was moving along, people were being eliminated and we were being challenged in our creativity and culinary skills. There were only so many ways to say the same things week after week. I hadn’t realized that the show had gotten into a rut, but it had. I wondered what the producers had thought about that. Had they decided to add the pranks into the mix in order to liven up the show? I wouldn’t put it past them to do anything to garner higher ratings and another season, but I had no proof of that.

When I finished, I noticed that two of the contestants had not filmed a segment, which was odd. All of the contestants had been told weekly by Marsha that they were required to film a segment prior to the challenge and after the challenge. Yet these two had somehow escaped that drudgery.

The first of these was Tracy Jones, the contestant who had not been pranked yet. I wasn’t shocked by this. Apparently she lived a charmed life that allowed her to work without interruption and compete without following the rules. She deserved another look, given this latest infraction. The other was Anthony, Marsha’s uncle. I wondered if he’d been allowed to skip the filming since any aired segments might bring to light the fact that he was related to one of the production team, or if there had been another reason. It looked like he would be another person I would need to talk to.

I finished watching the clips. There was nothing in them that gave me any insight into what had happened in the green room. I wasn’t sure if I’d expected a taped confession or footage of the murders being committed, but nothing of the kind had been present.

Since I was already logged in to the computer, I decided to browse around the files on the server. I remembered being told that the security files were kept somewhere on the servers during my prior request. A few clicks later, I found the folder where the security videos were located. They were labeled with dates and times so that they could be found easily.

Of course, the files I had wanted to see were absent. I supposed that too much time had passed since the day of the prank. They were likely off-site at some facility by now, or they’d been erased forever. Security footage had to be archived or the sheer volume of files would threaten to overwhelm the servers for most firms.

I knew that I probably shouldn’t, but I searched around to find Marsha’s folders on the server. It took me a few minutes, but when I opened a folder named XYZ, I found all of the missing surveillance video. I didn’t have time to check them all out, but the dates were all identical to the date when we’d had our pans peed on and the times matched those which had been given to me on DVD. I leaned back in the chair and whistled. Had Marsha actually been the one to remove the files and turn off the lights in the studio or had someone just stored them under her directory, knowing that few people would be searching there in the next few days? I’d have to watch the security videos to find out what they contained. Then I could make some assumptions based on what I saw.

I thought about watching all of them, but I was only supposed to be watching about 20 minutes of video. I looked at my phone and saw that I’d already been in here for 25 minutes. While I didn’t think that anyone would come looking for me at any second, I knew that I had nowhere near the time that would be required to look at all of these, even if I fast-forwarded through them all.

Of course, I wasn’t prepared for the situation. I had no flash drive on me, and I wasn’t in the habit of carrying blank DVDs around. At least I knew where they were and how I could get them again. It would be a huge help to me to be able to view them, but I couldn’t determine a way to move the gigantic files easily.

In frustration, I pushed my chair in and went in search of Jim Jackson. I thanked him for the chance to view the videos. “Everyone is supposed to do the video journals, right?”

He nodded, but he barely looked up. I knew that every one of them would be busier now that Marsha was gone. I expected a few glitches from the show in the next few weeks.

The next few days went off without a hitch. I worked my normal schedule and enjoyed being back at work. My feeble attempt to try to juggle the television show and the food truck was getting tired quickly. I counted the weeks until the show was over and knew that I’d be very glad to be done with it.

On the assigned day, we headed back to the studio for the next challenge. Since Johnny Ruck had already announced what it would be, there was a lack of excitement charging the air today. We all knew that we’d be given a mystery ingredient, but we did not know which one we’d get. The pall of the last few days definitely hung over the set as we appeared.

The overhead lights were already full lit by the time that we made it to the set. We’d stopped at the green room, but we’d been detoured to another room where the same set-up sat unused in the middle of the room. I was glad that we were somewhere else. I wasn’t sure that I could have made it through the taping with the thought of those two women who had died in that same room.

I mumbled through a particularly lame monologue, expressing my excitement for a new challenge, but sadness over the deaths of two members of the team. Land talked for several minutes about the latest challenge and his thoughts about the show going on without one of the contestants and a member of the production team. It was more than I’d heard him say in three days. I wondered why he’d felt the need to say so much.

I’m sure my surprise showed on my face as I stared at him. Half of the audience already thought we were an item, so I didn’t have to worry about my expression. The viewers would think what they wanted.

We headed into the set area. Most of the rest of the contestants were there. Jerry waved at us, beckoning us to come over and stand by him. Tracy and Anthony both were standing to one side, whispering about something. I wished that I could have been closer, but Tracy had made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with me. So my proximity would likely have stopped any conversation going on.

There was no sign of Rochelle on set. I wondered if she had gotten lost or if her participation had been cut from the show. Yet she’d seemed too positive that she would be appearing on the show.

Johnny Ruck arrived on set just after the last of the contestants. The clipboard and a stack of wooden boxes rested on the granite kitchen counter. He looked ready to present the next challenge. I wondered who was helping him with the challenges of the job.

“Before we start,” he announced, “I’d like to thank everyone for their attendance at the funerals of our friends. I know that it would have meant a great deal to Marsha to know that she was remembered so fondly.”

There was a low mutter of agreement from the contestants. Johnny continued, “To best remember Annabella, we’ve asked her sister, Rochelle, to take over for her in the competition. Before anyone objects, Rochelle is a minority owner in the business, and the entire truck will likely come to her following the probate of the will. If you read the fine print on the contracts, co-owners are allowed to participate in the competition in the event the original contestant cannot be present. As a part owner of the food truck, she’s amply qualified to continue as Annabella’s replacement.”

I wondered if the cameras were rolling for this segment. I looked around and saw two red lights on top of the oversized cameras. I made sure to smile and make congratulatory noises. I poked Land in the ribs and jerked my head to the cameras. He picked up on the hint and gave Rochelle a smile that would have melted most women.

Rochelle thanked everyone and pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m dedicating my efforts in this contest to continuing Annabella’s work and her desire to win the contest. I know this is what she would have wanted. Any win I have is a win for Annabella.”

I was pretty certain that Annabella would have rather not been dead, but I kept my tongue silent. My sense of humor would not translate well to the small screen.

With the reading complete, Johnny Ruck went on with the script. “Today we’re going to be mixing things up, literally. Each of you will be given an ingredient, which has to be added to at least two of your menu items. We’ll have the judges visit your truck as always. And today we’ll also have you…”

Ruck stopped and looked around. The cameras were rolling, and I knew we’d have to do the scene over. “What the hell happened to the rest of the script?” he asked. He held up the clipboard which showed us all that the last paragraphs of the text had been blacked out with a marker. He couldn’t finish the text without x-ray vision.

Someone ran out to print off a new copy of the script while we stood around waiting. Apparently, neither Marsha nor Annabella had been the prankster since the disruptions were continuing without them. I found it in bad taste that the prankster had started up again on the first day back after the murders, but apparently whoever it was didn’t care about propriety.

Ruck got a new copy of the script and began again. “And today we’ll also have you get some reviews from people on the street. A new component of the challenge will be wowing the man on the street. Good scores from the customers will be a part of the rubric for this challenge and the next.”

There were a few gasps and murmurs from the other truck owners. Many people came to the truck’s sites just to be on the air for the program. If they thought that it would create more drama, they could easily throw in a bad review for that truck. It was a drastic change to the format, more like
American Idol
, where the people get to vote. I wondered if this interactive change to the format was due to the boring video journals they’d been getting. Was this another ploy to get ratings up?

An intern who looked like she might have been 12 started passing out the wooden boxes with the mystery ingredients. The cameras cut in to show the contents of each box.

On one of the TVs off-stage, I could watch as each food truck got their mystery ingredient. Anthony’s bagel truck got some type of beans. Rochelle got nutmeg for the taco truck. I wasn’t sure how that would work. Nutmeg and Mexican food didn’t seem like a good fit. I was nervous by the time the intern reached us. She handed a box to Land, who opened it about three inches and then decided to share it with me.

I saw a light-colored plant root. It looked kind of organic, but that was just my guess. I had no idea what it was, to be frank. Outside of our own menu, I wasn’t the world’s best cook. In all fairness, not many people wanted to come home and do their day job some more. As if eight hours was not enough.

I gave Land a pleading look, letting him know that I had no idea what this was. He leaned closer “Ginger,” he said, his mouth so close to my ear that I felt his hot breath on it. I don’t know if turning me on was his intention, but I felt warm all over after that. Who knew a food truck challenge could be so intimate?

My first instinct was to pull out my phone and hit the recipe app, but Land shook his head. I took that to mean that he had a good idea for how to incorporate ginger into the meal. I was glad that he did. My ginger was in a little jar on my spice shelf. I had no idea how to use it other than in a few Chinese dishes, and I certainly had no idea that it came from a root like this.

I heard a gagging noise from across the set. I looked up at the camera. One TV turned to black, and I wondered if it had been blacked out due to a prank. Then I saw that Tracy Jones was holding a box that was full of dog poop. I was pretty certain that no food truck item, even in a taco truck, could be made from that.

The baby-faced intern blanched while the cameras were still rolling and snatched the box away from Tracy. She ran off stage with it. I wondered how many of the studio employees were thinking that Marsha would have never allowed this to happen. She would have been on top of the situation and double-checked the ingredients and the contents of the boxes before handing them out to the contestants.

I wondered about that as an implication. Had Marsha been too close to discovering who was behind the pranks? Her normal methodology would have noticed any discrepancies. If she began to notice them in terms of when they happened or who they happened to, then she could have pieced together the identity of the person behind the pranks.