Page 69 of You Chive Me Crazy
“What?” Zoe said. “How can you tell?”
“Look at the build of this guy. Even with that oversized hoodie, he’s as thin as a toothpick. Damian is much bigger and taller in comparison, almost twice his size, plus there’s no green haze coming from his mouth.”
Zoe squinted to get a better look. “You’re right.” Concern was etched on her face. “Could he have paid someone to steal it?”
“Of course,” I said.
“Then it could be anybody,” she said. “Which means that puts us right back at square one. We have no clue who this guy is or why he took my food truck.”
“Yeah . . .” I studied the video, then gestured to the monitor. “Unless you know a man with a beard who wears neon yellow women’s tennis shoes.”
“Wait—what?” Zoe cranked her head toward the screen. “You have got to be kidding me. I can’t believe I didn’t notice them before. Can you zoom in on the shoes?”
“Sure can,” Axel said, clicking a couple of things, then zooming in.
Zoe’s eyes went wide, and she slapped the top of Axel’s desk with her palm. “I know who he is!” She turned to me, suddenly filled with adrenaline, squeezing both my arms with a strength I didn’t know she had. “Remember the rude guy I told you about with the other potato truck? He gives me the stink eye every time we do the same event.”
“Yeah,” I said, trying to regain my focus. “He said there should only be one potato food truck per city or something ridiculous like that.”
“Exactly,” Zoe said, letting go of my arms. “He hates me with a passion.” She jabbed her finger toward the monitor. “That’shim. His name is Alvin Marzo. I’m sure of it. He’s always wearing those Lululemon neon yellow workout shoes.”
“You mean, those really are women’s shoes?” I asked.
“Yes! He’s got dainty feet to match his pea-sized brain,” Zoe said. “You are a genius!” She got up on her tip-toes, grabbed both of my cheeks, and planted a kiss on my lips.
I stood there in sweet, shocked silence.
Zoe kissed me.
Just then, one of Axel’s employees peeked his head inside the office. “Sheriff Townsend is here.”
We followed Axel back outside.
“Zoe Bell?” Sheriff Townsend said, approaching us.
“Yes,” she said.
He tipped his hat. “Sorry to hear about your troubles, but we’re going to do everything we can to get your truck back.”
“I appreciate that more than you know,” Zoe said.
“We take care of our own,” Sheriff Townsend said. “We’re one big family here, and that includes the food festival folks.” He gave me a kind smile. “We’ve already got all available units on the lookout for the truck. I’d be much obliged if you could answer a few questions.”
“I’d be happy to, but first I should tell you I know who stole my truck,” Zoe said, filling him in on the neon yellow shoes, her history with Alvin, and the many times he had threatened her.
I had a good feeling she would get her food truck back, and soon.
“That’s going to make our job easier,” Sheriff Townsend said, assuring us they would try to track Alvin's credit card usage to locate him and get the truck back. “Justice will prevail.”
In the meantime, we sat in Axel’s customer waiting area while Zoe contacted her insurance company to let them know what was going on. I got a hold of Rolando to fill him in on the latest, even though my mind was still focused on that kiss.
Less than an hour later, Sheriff Townsend returned with the good news. “We found the truck hidden behind the Dollar Tree on Big Bear Boulevard. You were right, it was Alvin Marzo. Luckily, we could track his credit card purchases. He had ten tubes of toothpaste sitting on the passenger seat. It’s good to know his teeth will be sparkly clean for his court appearance.”
“Do you know what he was planning to do with the truck?” I asked.
“He said he was just having some fun,” Sheriff Townsend said. “But it really doesn’t matter at this point. We take grand theft auto seriously. From what we can tell, there doesn’t seem to be any damage to your truck, although we would need you to verify that for our report.”
“You do not know how relieved I am,” Zoe said, tears streaming down her face. “I don't know what I would have done if—” She couldn’t even finish the sentence. Instead, she turned and fell into my arms again with a huge bear hug, as tender as it was all-encompassing.
