My Dad, the Private Eye: Keep on Truckin'

CHAPTER 7

The next day, Dad and I drove down to the Niagara wine country. A lot of people don't realize it, but there's a lot of wine made in Canada, especially in the towns around Niagara Falls.

I told Dad that I didn't have school that day because... I didn't want to go to school that day. I mean, who wants to go to school when you're in the middle of solving a real live possible murder? Besides, it was the last week of school before summer, and they never really do anything important then anyway. We usually just review a few subjects and watch movies.

And we get our report cards. I didn't want to be around for that either.

Anyway, after about an hour's drive from Toronto, we pulled into the parking lot of Riverside Winery. It looked beautiful and rustic, although I think the rustic design was fake because you could tell the place was pretty new. It was big too, and a lot of tourists were parking their cars or getting out of tour busses and going into the tasting room.

We drove past the tasting room entrance looking for the business entrance, so Dad pulled around back to the service area with a bunch of loading docks, parked trucks and dumpsters. While we were looking for a place to park, I had to reassure Dad once again that I wasn't going to screw up his meeting with the owner of the winery. "I helped you out at Mrs. Beaudry's house and at that roadhouse place, right?"

"Sure you did, honey, but interviewing for a job is a whole different story."

I folded my arms, hurt. "You don't trust me."

"I do trust you. But if a man is going to give me money to do a job..."

"Dad, stop," I said.

"Krista, don't get upset."

"I'm not upset, just stop!" I insisted, staring at a pile of old wine barrels we just drove past. Actually, I was trying to see something behind them.

Dad parked the car, and I jumped out, heading for the wine barrels. He got out and had to run to follow me. "Krista, I have an appointment!"

"Dad, what kind of pickup truck did you say Mr. Beaudry had?" I asked.

"A Ford F-150. Why?"

"Green?"

"Yeah."

"I just saw it."

Dad shook his head impatiently. "Krista, it's the most popular pickup in North America. So the fact that you just saw a green Ford F-150 means nothing." Dad thought back to his embarrassing night at the trailer park. "Trust me, I know."

"But why is that green truck over there hidden behind those old wine barrels?" I gestured to an old truck parked behind the barrels.

Dad could see the truck now, and he shrugged. "It's not hidden. I don't know, you gotta park somewhere."

But it sure seemed hidden to me. I ran up to the truck and checked it out. "This is Mr. Beaudry's truck, I know it!"

Reluctantly, Dad looked at the license plate. Becoming curious, he checked his notes on his phone.

And the look on his face when he looked back up told me I was right!

Dad canceled his meeting with the Riverside Winery owner because he now realized the guy might be involved with Harley's disappearance somehow. Dad decided he had to do some snooping next. In fact, he planned to go undercover wearing a disguise! Standing in front of a large mirror at the motel, he put on the shabbiest clothing he could dig out of his closet. He even wore a bushy wig with a fake mustache and beard.

I watched him get ready, trying not to laugh. "Nobody's going to buy that!" I insisted.

"What? What's wrong with it? I don't want anybody to recognize me," he said, trying in vain to make his wig look natural.

I looked down at my computer. "Anyway, Dad, you were right: Riverside Winery's U.S. distribution center is in Windsor!"

"I knew it!" Dad pumped his fist... and accidentally flung his mustache across the room. I snickered as he looked for it. "That winery's up to something sneaky, and I'm going to find out what."

"But if you didn't meet with the winery owner," I asked, "then who's paying you?"

Dad retrieved the fake mustache and returned to the mirror. "If I actually nail the winery, maybe Mr. Borneman will stop doing business with them and give me a bonus."

"But how did Mr. Beaudry get to Windsor if he didn't drive the tanker truck or his own pickup?" I asked.

"That's where Gator comes in," Dad deduced. "I'm guessing something happened to Harley, and Gator didn't just take over Harley's route, he was actually paid off by the winery to take care of the body. You should've seen that new car of his. I can't see him buying that on a trucker's pay."

Dad finally reattached the mustache and turned around to pose for me. "Well, what do you think?"

I snickered again. "Like I said, you'll never pull it off."

"I have to pull it off," Dad lamented. "It's part of my plan."