A GRAVE CONCERN (Food Truck Mysteries Book 8) by Chloe Kendrick Page A

Sometimes I had an excuse for that desire, and sometimes I just wanted to prove again that I could do it.
    “I know, but I will be looking into this matter. I will see if I was mistaken. What if I did see the brother instead of Hamilton?” I had pangs of doubt now. I’d been so certain that it was Hamilton Preston, but now I wondered. Perhaps the resemblance had been enough.
    A younger man walked by, and I knew this had to be Hamilton’s son. He bore a striking resemblance to his father—the same dark wavy hair and patrician nose. I caught him by the arm and asked for directions to the restroom, a move that I’ve always found to be an effective icebreaker. No one wants to deny a person certain creature comforts.
    “Aren’t you a Preston?” I asked, pretending to be as lost socially as I was directionally.
    He nodded. “I’m Hamilton’s son, Barton.” I was amazed that they were still able to come up with names ending in “ton.” I would have run out of ideas quickly.
    “Nice to meet you,” I said, watching his face for any reaction. If he knew anything about me or his father’s predilection for running around town in less-than-designer clothes, he didn’t show it.  He smiled and shook my hand firmly.
    I tried to place him. He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t figure out where I’d seen him before. I was beginning to wonder if I just saw the Preston family wherever I went.
    “I’ve met your uncle, too,” I lied, trying to find out more about the man. I was curious now about the black sheep of the Preston family.
    “Uncle Milton? I wouldn’t say that too loud. They’ll think you’ve been hanging out on Government Square.” He gave me a broad smile that let me know he was joking.
    I explained that I worked on Government Square. He was momentarily embarrassed until I told him about the work I do. He listened politely. He shared that he was in his last year at Dartmouth and hoped to work for a local bank when he graduated from school. I was annoyed for a moment, knowing that he would likely get the job through his name alone.
    “So you’ve seen Uncle Milton? Wow, that’s wild. The last time I’d heard anything he was out west somewhere. Do—does the family know?” he asked. His mouth was practically hanging open in astonishment. I didn’t believe that anyone could be that good of an actor, so I trusted that he was telling me the truth.
    I shrugged. “I’m not sure,” I said, thinking that I’d just told his aunt about the situation. I thought that perhaps he was thinking of his immediate family or his grandparents. I turned to look around, wondering where Sabine had gone to, but I couldn’t find her.
    Barton sensed my desire to leave, and he excused himself. “I love food trucks. I’ll have to come check out your truck sometime soon.”
    Having accomplished my goal for the evening, Land and I were ready to go home. I had to be up and at the truck by 5 a.m., which meant up by 4 a.m. for me. However, Sabine was nowhere to be found.
    We walked around the various museum exhibits, managing to see the original paintings that had been donated to the facility, along with some of the newer works, before Land finally caught sight of her. Sabine was standing with a group of men near a display of Grecian statues. The men were rapt with attention, and I sighed. I would never be stunning in the same way that she was. Of course, I’d never look that way in my little black dress, either.
    Land gave my hand a squeeze and then cleared his throat. “Sabine, are you ready to come home?” He gave her a broad, brotherly smile that told the men that they should be on their best behavior with his sister.
    She gave a dramatic sigh to the men. “I have to go. The old folks need to go to bed.” She spun around deftly and followed us.
    Grinding my teeth, I didn’t say a word. I wanted to yell at her, since she was only a couple of years younger than me, but I knew that wouldn’t work. She enjoyed being