Talk about a walk of shame.
The security guard unceremoniously escorted me and my apparently not-so-famous cat right off the set of Parking Lot Potluck.
How mortifying.
“Just let me call…” She wasn’t sticking around to listen to me plead my case. Which was probably a good thing because I realized the only contact information I had was Val’s email address. And if her email was anything like my email, she might not even look at it until the end of the day.
But I still sent her a message.
I did have Marci’s number, but I was pretty sure there was a legal document with her name on it that forbid her from coming to my rescue.
Casey was texting me.
Addie, what just happened?
Are you okay? That didn’t sound okay.
Call me ASAP.
“Why aren’t we inside the TV anymore?” Persephone asked.
“Because I think someone might be afraid that we’ll actually solve this case.”
Persephone tilted her head at me. “But that’s why they brought us here.”
How did I explain it, when it didn’t completely make sense to me? “Maybe they only wanted to look like they were trying to find the person who poisoned Sig and Diana, but when they realized that we actually had a plan to solve this case, they got scared.”
“So we’re done? We’re going home?” Persephone put her paws on my leg, and I picked her up. I’d left the stroller inside the tent to retrieve after the production meeting.
“No. We still have to talk to everyone who was at the meeting one-on-one.” I steeled myself with my cat in my arms as it started to drizzle. “We made some major progress with Chloe, too.”
“We did?”
“Now we know why she doesn’t like cats. So if you’re willing to convince her that you won’t swat at her, maybe she can make an exception for you.”
“She didn’t want me to go anywhere near her guy.”
Another great observation. “Really?”
“He’s gone a lot. She spends a lot of time with the lady,” Persephone said. “That was some of why she was upset last night. She thought she would stay with us for good.”
“Poor Chloe.” I felt bad for her. Animals craved stability and routine, and with so much travel, she probably didn’t get that. But she was in good hands when she stayed with Kenzie. “Once we get her to talk, we’ll find out what she wants so maybe we can help her people make her happier.”
“I’d like that.”
“Addie!” Kenzie’s mouth dropped when she saw us standing by the cars. “What are you doing out here? We were looking everywhere for you. We thought maybe you found your rental car—”
“I have a rental?”
“Yeah, it’s part of your contract.” Kenzie swiped her phone screen. “It’s the white one right there.”
This day was looking up.
“I got escorted off set by security.”
“Why didn’t you text me or Lindsay?”
“I don’t have your number.”
“Okay, let’s fix that right now.” Kenzie texted me with a cat and dog emoji. “We’ll get you a lanyard after lunch, which I was just going to pick up. Want to join us?”
“I’d love that. Where are you going?” Not that it mattered.
“George just opened a hot dog truck, and he tells us they’re pretty amazing.” She phrased that in an interesting way as she climbed into the car. I didn’t wait for an invitation to join her on the passenger’s side. “I think he’s trying to one-up Maxim after that comment by treating us all to lunch. They’ve got something for everyone, so if you don’t do meat, there’s salmon and tofu.”
“I’m in.” On the show, George seemed like a down-to-earth type of guy, but he cooked complicated dishes for the contestants to dissect on the show. I was interested in his food trucks. “Is that the type of stuff he really likes to cook?”
“He wrote the menu and hired a staff to take care of it because he’s trying different concepts in different cities. Seattle got a hot dog truck. But he’s definitely using his name to get this venture off the ground. So he’s a gourmet chef and showcases that on Potluck, but he loves the idea of comfort food and making people happy.”
“I can get behind that. Why does Maxim look down his nose at the food trucks?” They might not have traditional sit-down tables, but there was some serious food being made in there.
On my first…yeah, I could call it a date…with Henry, he took me to a food truck, and it was awesome. That wasn’t the only reason I had a soft spot for the concept. I was a big fan of anything that wasn’t pretentious and stuffy and made good food accessible for busy people who might not have someone to sit down and share a meal with.
“Maxim’s a food snob. He’s a little bit of an everything snob, but you didn’t hear that from me,” Kenzie said. “He enjoys the finer things in life. There have been some rumors that he spends more money than he makes, but you also didn’t hear that from me.”
Oh. That put him on the motive list with a circle around his name.
Kenzie slowed the car as we approached a park not far from set. Several food trucks dotted the perimeter, and people walked their dogs. Others gathered at the benches that surrounded an abstract monument in the center of the park. A little bit of rain didn’t stop the people of Seattle from having a good time.
The drizzle had gotten heavier but hadn’t committed to being a full rainstorm. I wished I had a jacket for Persephone.
I could only imagine how much she’d protest if I tried to put a raincoat on her. But she would look adorable.
After parallel parking like a boss, Kenzie motioned for Persephone and me to follow her.
“There’s a cool farmer’s market here on weekends. The judges loved it.”
“Do they come often?”
“Just the first weekend. It was supposed to be a part of the episode, but when they showed up, it caused a commotion.” Kenzie shook her head. “So they wound up signing autographs and taking pictures with fans, and Lindsay and I did the shopping.”
“How did they feel about that?”
“They were disappointed. They felt like it limited their dishes for this episode. The guys thought it was because Diana has such a high profile now.”
“They can’t blame Diana. They’re all recognizable.”
“But she’s much more recognizable. She’s gotten some big endorsements, and she was on the cover of a couple of important magazines outside of the culinary world. All the stuff they get is still niche. Anyway, Val really wanted these shots. She got them, but it was our hands instead of capturing the stars shopping. She was hoping to incorporate a segment like this into the show, but now she’s not sure it will work.”
“Why does she want to change things? The show works.”
“Because she wants to make sure she has a draw beyond Diana. That’s why Sig got involved, because Val knew Diana’s star was on the rise, and she’ll be on another show soon.”
Val shot to the top of my suspect list. She was being pressured to expand Parking Lot Potluck, which meant the original cast would be split up to accommodate the new shows. They’d already introduced guest judges.
“But now there might not be any show.”
“Right. George wants out of his contract, and Maxim’s not a strong enough draw to carry the show without the rest of them.”
“They should double down on the concept, even with the guest hosts. Don’t get me wrong, I like Diana. But she’s not the reason I watch the show. I love the concept. And I’d be sad if that went away.”
“Tell Val that. She doesn’t listen to us.” Kenzie stopped dead in her tracks and gasped. “Oh no.”
A camera crew was set up in front of a food truck that had a giant Great Dane painted on the side. Chloe’s Dogs was written in what looked like spray-painted script. Okay, I was in love with this truck. George had named it after his dog.
The reporter in front of Chloe’s Dogs was interviewing Marci, who held an umbrella and a cardboard sign that read, “Parking Lot Potluck is holding my husband hostage.”