Merry Market Murder(11)

“I have no idea.” I looked toward the Ridgeways’ setup. They’d completely unloaded their truck the day before, and I’d already noticed a number of buyers leaving the market with trees. Denny, Billie, and Ned were currently sitting in lawn chairs arranged in a triangle formation. They all wore a similar version of what they’d worn the day before, and instead of soft drinks, each held a steaming mug. “Maybe we should ask Denny.”

“Yeah, I hate to bother him but they aren’t terribly busy right at the moment.” She lifted a foot to step forward.

“Denny!” I said as I cupped my hand around my mouth. “You have a minute?” Then I signaled him toward us.

“I could have walked over there,” Allison said.

“This is more efficient,” I said. “You were just going to come right back. It’s okay for me to be a little uncouth. Anything to help.”

To my surprise, Allison nodded before she said, “Good point. Thank you.”

“That’s my girl,” I said quietly so Denny wouldn’t hear as he joined us.

“Allison, Becca! How are the two of you today?” he asked cheerfully. If he had problem with the Stuckey truck’s continued presence in the lot, he didn’t show it.

“Hi, Denny,” Allison said. “We’re great. You all as comfortable as possible over there?”

“Yes, ma’am, no complaints.”

I tried to erase the sudden suspicion in my glance. He didn’t sound phony at all, but he had to be at least somewhat upset that the Stuckey truck was still on the lot. Maybe Denny truly was as neighborly as he appeared to be, or maybe he was just being patient in the hope that the matter would be resolved before the day was over. Either way, I thought he was a little too cheery.

Allison smiled. “Denny, I’m sorry to bother you, but since you, Billie, and Ned have been out here pretty consistently for the last couple days, I wondered if you saw where Reggie Stuckey went. I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”

“I don’t think I did.” He rubbed the back of a finger over the side of his jaw, making his beard swing like a clock’s pendulum. “I’m pretty sure the truck’s in the same spot as when he parked it, and I don’t remember anyone coming by to pick him up.”

Allison squinted up at the cab. “Would he be inside?”

Repeating my investigative maneuver, Denny stepped up on the running board and peered inside the cab. “He’s not in there. There’s no secret hidden spot or anything.” He jumped down.

“What about the back?” Allison led the way down the side of the truck and toward the cargo load.

“He’d be pretty uncomfortable if he was in there with little to no ventilation. I doubt it,” Denny said.

“What about the trees? I didn’t look inside but if there are trees in there, are they being harmed by the lack of ventilation?”

“They could be, but if he gets them out today they’ll probably be fine.”

For a long few moments, the three of us stood behind the truck and looked up at the back doors.

“Should we just open it and get the trees out for him, or at least give them air—if that will help them?” I suggested.

Denny shifted his weight from one foot to the other, but didn’t say anything. He was hesitant and uncomfortable; he would want to be careful about overstepping his bounds.

“No one answered when I called his office this morning. We haven’t seen him since yesterday. It’s almost noon.” Allison looked at the time display on her phone. “I don’t think it’s necessarily time to be worried, but I can’t help it—I am worried. If it’s not locked, I’m going to open the back and just take a look.”

“Here, let me help,” Denny said resolutely. He stepped forward and moved the arm mechanism that kept the doors closed. It clicked with no resistance. “It’s not locked.”

He stepped backward as he pulled on the door. We were greeted by the scent of pine, but it was different than yesterday’s sense-stimulating earthiness. This time, it mixed with other, less wonderful smells, too. The temperature had been warm enough to make the closed-up inside of the truck stagnant and stuffy, which gave the air an automatic dusty thickness.

There was something else, too, something I didn’t readily recognize but I probably should have.

I scrunched my nose. “What is that?”

“I don’t know,” Allison and Denny said together.

As if to answer my question, a dark liquid trickled out of the truck and to the asphalt below. It probably didn’t make a noise, but I watched the trail of red drops, and in my mind they plopped loudly when they hit the ground.