April 23, 2024

Eugeena Patterson-Jones is excited about planning her daughter Leesa Patterson’s wedding. With three months to go, there’s lots to do. They meet for lunch at the award-winning Smokin’ Ward barbecue food truck owned by Leesa’s wedding caterer.

Lately the Smokin’ Ward owners have been at odds with a local barbecue competitor. When the competitor’s body is found inside his food truck, Leesa’s friends become suspects. 

Usually, Eugeena is the one who’s sticking her nose into situations, but Leesa is determined to find out who’s trying to destroy her friends’ business and frame them for murder.  The mother and daughter team up to find the smoking gun.

Read an Excerpt

Chapter 1

I didn’t have to look at my watch to know that breakfast had been a few hours ago. When it was time to eat, my body had a way of letting me know. I suddenly started thinking so hard about food, I could almost taste it. I have always had a love affair with food and mealtimes were like sharing time with an old friend. Lately, when I found myself thinking about certain types of food, fond memories accompanied those thoughts. 

There was always plenty of good cooking growing up in the Lowcountry. My earliest memories were of me sitting at the kitchen table while my mama baked or prepared dinner. She seemed to cook something special every night, and not just on Sunday. I imagine it’s why I spent so much time in the kitchen as an adult. It was the closest activity I had that connected me to my mama who’d passed when I was twelve years old. 

 Last night, my only daughter, Leesa brought her kids over and we spent time talking about her upcoming nuptials. Leesa and I have come a long way from the bickering mother and daughter we used to be to having more understanding about each other as women. I’d missed out on having my mama around when I was Leesa’s age, so I truly treasured watching my baby girl. Even though she was a mother of two, the past few months I enjoyed seeing her relive the childlike wonder of that little girl who dreamed aloud about her future wedding. Only this was no dream, it was for real. Getting married had been a long time coming for Leesa, and I was proud of this next step in her life.

From the moment her fiancé Chris Black proposed last June, Leesa dived into planning for their wedding. They’d both agreed on a yearlong engagement. Since the beginning of the year, we’d met every week for lunch and then gathered at least one weekend a month with Leesa’s besties. Hard to believe the wedding was almost two months away.

Today was Friday, and Leesa wanted to meet with the caterer to confirm the menu. I stepped outside and sat in a rocking chair on the front porch to wait for her arrival. It was the perfect day for being outdoors. The April weather had been breezy all week. Best enjoy it,  summer temperatures along with high humidity would barge in before its designated time. Spring seemed to last only a few weeks in the South despite the calendar dates.

 My husband, Amos Jones, whipped around the front yard on his favorite toy. I grinned and waved at him. I’d never imagined I would marry again after my first husband passed. A widow himself, Amos used to live next door. He had become the neighborhood yard guy and grabbed my attention, reminding me that life wasn’t over. Sure, I was a retired widow and an empty nester, but I learned fast that my hormones were still working just fine.

Amos eased up close to the front porch on his lawnmower and cut the engine. “Where y’all heading today?”

“Smokin’ Ward. You know Leesa’s friends have been catering for a while, but they acquired a food truck a year ago.” 

Amos swung his legs around on the lawnmower and stood. “Yeah. And they serve barbecue, right?”

I nodded. Another one of my favorite memories involved my father, a quiet and reserved man, somewhat like Amos. My dad and his brothers would smoke a whole hog out in the backyard, one of the benefits of living out in the country. He cooked some of the best barbecue. To this day, I was still biased to my daddy’s cooking.

I explained to Amos. “Smokin’ Ward specializes in giving people the barbecue they like best, whether it’s vinegar based or tomato based. Leesa said they won a culinary award. Want me to bring you a plate back?”

Amos wiped his brow with a handkerchief. “Yes, ma’am. I will be ready for some down home cooking after I finish these yards. Make sure they add some hash and rice, too.”

Amos claimed he was a city boy, but that man loved to eat good ole country food. I knew he was working up quite an appetite. His daughter was now living in the house he still owned next door, and Amos kept both lawns nice and neat. He even helped out our next door neighbor, Louise Hopkins.

Speaking of Louise, I spotted her silver hair first from her porch. Louise had a brief stint in the nursing home before she returned to her home in Sugar Creek. Now, her granddaughter, Joss Miller, lived with her. Louise waved to me. “Hey, Eugeena.”

“How you doing, Louise? You want some barbecue?”

Louise clapped her hands together like she was much younger than her seventy some years. “Oooh, that sounds so good.”

“We’ll bring you back something.” I grew up in the era where you took care of your neighbors. I turned to see Leesa pull her minivan into our driveway. “Well, there’s the bride. I didn’t know how super organized that child was until she started handing out tasks to do for this wedding.” I stood from the rocking chair and made my way down the steps. “That girl has a checklist for everything.” 

Amos grabbed my hand and helped me down the last few steps. “Like mother, like daughter. You love your notebooks too,” he grinned.

I threw my head back and laughed. “That’s true.”

I walked over and opened the passenger side door. My daughter leaned forward and waved at Amos who’d followed behind me. “Hey, Amos,” Leesa said. “You have these yards looking so good.” 

“Thank you. I appreciate the compliment.” Amos said, holding the door open for me. “So I hear you are having barbecue at your wedding?” 

Leesa grinned. “My friend Sasha and her husband are excellent cooks. We’re going to have a whole soul food menu. Both Chris’s family and mine love to eat.”

“We absolutely do.” I agreed as I climbed into her minivan. 

Amos waved and headed back toward his lawnmower.

I waited until Leesa backed out of the driveway. “How long do you have for lunch today? Are we going to be able to get everything accomplished?”

A big grin stretched across her face. “No worries. I have the afternoon off.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Well, that sounds like a plan.”

Within a few minutes, we reached the Sugar Creek business district. Across the street was Sugar Creek Café and a few shops. Leesa passed them and turned into a parking lot next to a furniture store.

Before I opened the car door, I could smell the savory aroma of smoked barbecue in the air. My stomach rumbled, already tasting the sweet and tangy sauce that would soon coat my fingers. “Mmmm, it smells good out here.” 

We rounded the corner of the parking lot, and I saw the BBQ Fixin’ food truck. That struck me as odd. “I thought we were going to Sasha’s truck.”

Leesa frowned. “It’s over there. You know what? Sasha told me last night that the guy who owns BBQ Fixin’ has been setting up shop wherever they are lately. She said it was weird.  Sasha and her husband, Marcus, book with businesses and organizations in advance to be able to sell food. No one wants two barbecue food trucks in the same location.”

“That is weird. Sounds like someone is trying to strike up a bit of competition.”

Leesa said, “Well, the BBQ Fixin’ food truck has won some awards in the past. Sasha said the truck had been off the scene awhile.”

I looked over at the BBQ Fixin’ truck. It was black with red lettering on the side. There wasn’t a lot of activity, nor was the concession window open.

The Smokin’ Ward truck came into view. You couldn’t miss it. Red like a fire truck with bright gold and white lettering, I noticed it wasn’t a typical food truck, but more like a trailer. A pretty long trailer with a porch on the back. This was the first time I’d seen it up close, although Leesa talked about her friend’s business all the time. 

“Wow. Their truck is huge. It’s like the ones I’ve seen at festivals and the farmers market.”

Leesa nodded. “They saved up their money and had it customized. It has everything in it, including a bathroom. Marcus likes to travel and do competitions. They’ve done at least three in the past year.”

As we approached, we were greeted with a wave and a smile from the young woman in the concession window. “Hey, y’all!” She said, “We’re opening.”

Usually when I saw Sasha Greene, she wore her thick curly hair in a fierce fro. Today, it was tied back with an emerald scarf. Her hair had always been deep auburn, even when she was younger. I could tell she’d added a bit more red to her natural coloring. It was good that Leesa remained in touch with a childhood friend.

Leesa walked up to the window and pointed toward the other food truck. “Hey, Sasha. Why are they here?”

Sasha shook her head. “I don’t know. His truck was here when we arrived. Marcus is going to tell Darren to move his truck. This is the second time this week that he’s pulled this stunt. There is plenty of room for both of our trucks to serve food in Charleston. He could have chosen another location. We’ve been setting up here every Friday for the past few months. The businesses and their customers provide great foot traffic.”

I turned around and caught sight of Marcus striding over to the other food truck. “Are you sure it’s a good idea for Marcus to go over there? That guy might be itching to start a fight.”

Sasha’s face scrunched up as she bit her lip. “I tried to stop him, but you know men.” She squinted. “Well, it looks like he’s coming back.”

Marcus Green sprinted across the parking lot back to where we stood by the Smokin’ Ward truck. His face appeared strained. 

“Marcus, is everything okay?” I asked.

Leesa added, “Yeah, was that guy giving you a hard time?”

Marcus stopped and put his hands on his hips. Then he bent down like he was about to hyperventilate. 

“Honey, are you okay?” A concerned Sasha moved quickly to the side door of the food trailer and climbed out. We all stood around Marcus wondering what was wrong.

Finally, sounding out of breath, he said. “I went over to ask Darren to move his truck. He didn’t answer, so I walked around and the truck’s back door was wide open. We may need to call 911.”

“Oh,” I said. “Is he hurt?” I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone. “Well, what should we tell them?”

Marcus shook his head. “I don’t know. He looks like he’s not breathing. And there’s—”

“What?” Leesa and I yelled at the same time.

Before I could stop her, Leesa started walking toward the BBQ Fixin’ truck. “Leesa,” I shouted, scurrying behind her. “Where are you going?” 

“To see if the man needs help. I took a CPR class a few months ago.”

“Yes, I remember you telling me that.”

Leesa said, “Well, if he’s not breathing, it could be too late by the time the ambulance gets here.”

We reached the truck and hurried around to the back. But before we reached the open doors, I saw two large feet dressed in white sneakers. Then the man’s large body sprawled out on the food truck’s floor came into view. I grabbed Leesa and yanked her back. I didn’t know what was more convincing, the blood pooling under the man’s head or the bluish tinge of his skin. 

Probably both. 

“Leesa, CPR isn’t going to help him. We need to call 911 and stay back.”

This is a crime scene.