“Give her my best, if you can.” The longer Diana stayed out of commission, the less chance Parking Lot Potluck had of ever filming another episode. And if production packed their bags and left Seattle, we might never find Sig’s killer.
Which meant I had to act. I pulled the now crumpled napkin out of my pocket.
It was a good thing Lucky the little black dress got left behind in New Hampshire because my visit to Disco Fry Dave’s home base would not end without me sampling the menu. I had to.
For research!
To see if Nick had a claim. I kept replaying our conversations over in my mind, and so many things didn’t add up.
Same with my conversation with Detective Miller. Persephone was riding shotgun, curled up like a little furry bagel, which meant she was tired.
“Did you get any interesting scents from Emma or her mom?”
“The little one smelled like sugar and wax. Couldn’t get a read on the mom.”
“Neither could I.” I sighed. “She’s friendly, but I’m skeptical. How would the police not have access to the set?”
“They kicked us out.”
“Right, but the detective could flash a badge if security tried to escort her away.” There had to be something she wasn’t telling me.
Everything about this case had me on edge.
“Did Lindsay smell the same as she always did?” She was going rogue, and I had a feeling she wasn’t acting alone. She didn’t have enough industry experience to lead this revolution. In my old job working in finance, I would’ve never ripped up the rule book and gone against the expectations.
I did get fired from that job….
The GPS led me to Catch, which also boasted some stunning bay-view real estate. I turned to Persephone.
“Lindsay knows who did this,” I said. “She saw something, and that’s making her act bold.”
“She seems like a good person.”
“But if she doesn’t find the killer, it’s likely that she’ll be framed. That’s if the police have enough evidence to make a charge. She must know her time is up.” The morning was making a lot more sense. “And since Detective Miller is working with Lindsay, she probably doesn’t think Lindsay did it, even though the lack of evidence says otherwise.”
“Chloe doesn’t like her as much as the other one.”
Persephone was notoriously bad with names and descriptions, so I would assume she meant Kenzie. That made sense because Kenzie was basically her dog aunt.
“Does Chloe not like Lindsay or just not as much?” Because if the Dane had it out for Lindsay, the chances were pretty good that she’d seen something.
“Not sure. She didn’t say much before she saw me.”
“Understandable. We need to schedule that playdate ASAP.” I picked up the phone to text Lindsay because I hadn’t heard from Kenzie or Val or anyone from the set since we came back with lunch.
It had only been a day, but time moved differently on a case. Things came together quickly and often happened all at once. Sometimes, I didn’t realize how significant things were until after they happened.
Now was one of those times.
“Diana’s in worse shape than anyone’s letting on.” That statement filled my belly with cement. And I understood even more why Lindsay was so willing to defy everyone on the crew.
I put the phone back into my bag and took a deep breath to steel myself before getting Persephone’s stroller out of the car. The setup and breakdown was more cumbersome than attaching the leash, but it was much easier getting around with her in the stroller.
She’d have to get out at the restaurant and eat some more fish. Sometimes, it wasn’t so bad to be Spy Kitty.
The inside of Catch was sleek and almost all white except for a few neon signs proclaiming the name of the restaurant and outlines of fish. The entire wall facing the bay was made of windows. That had been a theme on this trip.
And there was a poster board right by the register—after Nick’s description, I was surprised to find this was a place where customers ordered at the restaurant and then picked up the food instead of ordering from a waiter—with a picture of a man I presumed to be Dave, with the Parking Lot Potluck logo. The spot had been turned into a makeshift memorial, with articles about the case, Sig, and Diana, and notes from patrons, wishing Diana well and talking about how much Sig had meant to them.
My eyes blurred with tears reading it. Even though I was here, I wasn’t sure I was letting myself absorb the gravity of what had happened. Sig was dead, Diana’s life hung in the balance, and my favorite show would never be the same.
“It’s a tragedy, isn’t it?” An older lady handed me a tissue as she headed out of the restaurant. “Dave’s devastated. He thought he was doing such a good thing for the business by going on the show. The good news is the place has become a place to gather and search for answers for this senseless crime.”
I gave her a wobbly smile as I dabbed my eyes. “Does anyone have any theories?”
“Dave thinks that Nick from The Crab Shack has it out for him.” She shook her head. “The two have had a rivalry for years. He’s tried to shut this place down more than once. It’s foolish. He’s just upset that Dave’s kept up with the times, and he hasn’t.”
So the rivalry was real. And Nick wasn’t the innocent party he’d painted himself to be.
“Is Dave here?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. He might be out back, but he’s opening a new location. That was the reason he wanted to go on Parking Lot Potluck.”
“Is there a good time to catch him?” This wasn’t a total loss. Persephone and I could sample the food, and maybe if we spent some time by the memorial, more patrons would offer information.
The woman patted my arm. “If you’re looking for information about the show, maybe you could talk to those fellas over there. They were awfully nice. Took pictures with us and everything.” She pulled out a nicer phone than I owned and showed me her selfie with Maxim Moreau.
My jaw dropped. This was the first time on this trip that being a fangirl would come in handy. “I can’t believe he’s here.”
Lindsay wasn’t the only one going rogue. He was supposed to be sequestered at the hotel.
“He’s come in several times since the episode. Says he really enjoyed Dave’s cooking and was upset he didn’t get to try more of it.” She chuckled, like this was a win for the restaurant. “Maybe this will wind up being the break Dave was hoping for after all.”
She waved at me and headed out the door, leaving me standing there with my cat, totally aghast.
Maxim and his friend were sitting at one of the prime tables near the window, laughing and having something that looked like what the menu board called the fisherman’s feast. Paper had been spread across the table, and seafood and vegetables covered it. No plates.
“Are you ready to order?” The person at the register cheerfully called out to me, but I charged past him, straight to Maxim’s table.
He looked at me like he didn’t remember who I was. It was a punch to the gut, but I was getting used to them on this case.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Having lunch. The seafood here is the best I’ve ever had in Seattle.”
“Did you eat here before the episode?” I asked. I’d expected myself to lay into him about the fact he wasn’t supposed to leave the hotel, but with Kenzie exempt from that rule, Dave building a restaurant empire in the wake of the tragedy, and Lindsay going rogue, it was becoming more apparent that rule only applied to Nick.
And even clearer that he was getting framed.
“Yeah, several times.” He glanced over at the stroller, and his eyes widened when he realized Persephone was inside. Now he knew exactly who I was. “I assure you, I can be an impartial judge. It was Dave’s episode to lose. All those guys had to do was step up and make a better recipe.”
“Well, of course, it’s not totally up to you,” I said through gritted teeth. “Diana and George weigh in, too.”
I wracked my brain, trying to remember if Nick said what Diana thought of his dish. He made it sound like they all loved it, and I wasn’t sure he’d be willing to talk again about the specifics.
“Yes, they do. That’s what makes the show fair, Addie.” He emphasized my name. “No one person has the power to decide the winner.”
“Right.” I had to stay calm. Just because he was here didn’t mean that he poisoned Diana. Even if he’d wanted to tip the scales significantly in Dave’s favor, it didn’t make any sense. “Unless they made sure Diana didn’t have an opinion anymore.”