Ladies and gentlemen,
we have one more award
for the Critics Choice for Best Romantic Mystery.
Now, this is the 20th win for this exceptional novelist,
which is why we're here
in her hometown of Founders Cove.
Meet the author
of the latest Selena St. Cloud mystery,
Love is Murder,
Allison Chandler.
Yes!
Well done! You're amazing!
- There you are. - Thank you.
Oh my...
Thank-- thank you.
Sorry.
Oh!
Whoa, 20 years, huh? We have to stop meeting like this.
I don't think that there's really much left to say
that hasn't already been said,
um, except the fact that I am in amazing company.
I mean, Margaret Sterling...
...the winner of the Agatha's Choice Award.
Lee Granway, my good, good friend.
Best Mystery Thriller.
And Nikki Weston, where are you?
Nikki...
Best Newcomer!
And on behalf of Selena St. Cloud,
thank you so much to our loyal readers,
the Cloudies.
And Nash Gilbert, my wonderful friend.
So thank you so, so much.
Thanks so much.
Okay, everyone,
that does it for this year's awards.
Do not forget about the book signing
in the clubhouse after lunch,
and the Taste of Founders Cove,
where you can get a taste
of Founders' Chowder.
Uh, we've been serving up seafood
for more than half a century,
so you know it's good. - Thanks.
To the last 20 years.
And the next 20.
Mm...
Speaking of,
Selena St. Cloud has had a brilliant career,
hasn't she,
but maybe it's time to give the old gal a rest.
I don't know if you've been listening,
but the "old gal" just won another major award,
and has made everyone a shit-ton of money.
And everyone at Branner Publishing
is eternally grateful.
I'm grateful, believe me,
but as your agent,
if you want me to get you another contract
with the same six-figure advance,
well, you need to broaden your appeal.
I'm appealing just as I am.
Of course you are, of course you are,
but look around you, Allie.
The convention is bigger and younger than ever this year,
and unfortunately,
your bloody sales have flatlined.
Look, people under 40,
they're not interested in romance, they-they--
Oh, please, people under 40 don't know what they want.
Here we go.
- Thank you very much. - Thank you.
Thank you.
But the studios do,
which is why, unfortunately,
your million-dollar movie deal just fell apart.
I'm sorry.
Steve M. from the studio,
he said they're not interested
in an another menopausal mystery.
Fine.
Report him to HR,
and bring the movie somewhere else.
There you go.
Thanks.
Next.
It's an honor to meet you, Ms. Chandler.
Oh, that's so sweet of you, person under 40.
True confesh, your books actually inspired me
to start my true-crime podcast.
I'm the one who broke the case
on the Staten Island Slayer.
Oh, I don't have an app for podcasts.
It's actually built into your phone.
Oh, but what is that?
Is that a BlackBerry
or a pager?
Um, o-okay, uh,
what did you say your name was?
It's Andrea Walker, Andi for short,
but can you make it out to "Grammy"?
My grandma loves your books.
Uh, Andrea Walker.
You were on the Today Show.
I think that you said
my Selena St. Cloud books were inaccurate,
and what-- unbelievable.
Don't get me wrong.
I think that there is space in the zeitgeist
for escapist Boomer fiction.
You just can't exactly have tea and crumpets
with a corpse next to you on the floor.
Every sphincter opens.
Okay.
There you go,
and, uh, between us writers,
"confesh" isn't a word.
Make the extra effort.
Thanks for the tip,
and by the way, is there anywhere around here
I can get some aspirin?
I think I'm getting a headache
from all the knowledge you're imparting.
There's a gift shop in the lobby.
It's closed for remodeling.
Adulting is hard.
Next!
Excuse me,
aren't you the legendary Allison Chandler?
I don't know about legendary.
Hey, I saw you and Nash at lunch.
Is everything okay?
Nash loves giving notes on my books,
even after they're published.
Say, do you want to join me for dinner?
I was headed over to the Muddy Duck.
You know, I've got a seminar tonight.
I think I'm just gonna unwind a little bit.
Understood.
See you tomorrow.
Bye.
A whiskey neat with a whiskey chaser, please.
How's your headache?
Better,
but about to get worse.
Don't worry, I won't bother you.
I honestly didn't mean to insult you.
Apology accepted.
Aren't you going to apologize to me?
Allison Chandler never apologizes.
That is not true,
and you're interrupting.
Oh, I'm sure your fangirl won't mind.
Oh, please.
Actually, I was just leaving.
I have a Zoom with my advertisers in ten,
and they're talking big numbers.
Well, don't let us keep you.
You didn't have to chase her away.
But I wanted you all to myself.
Oh, sweetie, you have had way too much to drink.
Or maybe you haven't had enough.
I've got a bottle of Dom upstairs,
and I'm having trouble popping the cork.
Ugh.
Has that line ever worked?
There's always someone
who craves a little bangers and Nash.
Did I tell you
I bought a little place on the other side of the lake,
near the old mill,
33 Sandalwood Lane?
You're not listening, are you?
Of course I am listening.
Tell me what's bothering you.
Do you think my books are outdated?
You know I tell you the truth, Allison,
and I've always believed in your talent.
You have so damned much of it.
I secretly hoped you'd base a character on me...
someday,
but we both know you can do better
than this last effort.
Okay, not what I wanted to hear.
No, maybe not.
But maybe what I needed to hear.
Now that that's out of the way,
shall we talk about what I need?
I've gotta go, I've got a seminar.
Why don't you pop 'round the new place
after all this is over?
The key's under the mat.
Good to know.
I just love your new book.
Oh, thank you.
Hey! Over here!
Noah...
I'll meet you out there.
Ms. Chandler.
Where's your boss?
Detective Rossi got promoted,
two weeks ago. He's Division Chief now.
Who took his place?
Jack Kerrigan, out of Baltimore.
He's upstairs,
but I can't take you up there.
Detective Kerrigan,
I have a witness who wants to speak to you.
Santiago, we're taking statements downstairs.
Allison Chandler, I'm a friend of the deceased.
Yeah, we're taking statements downstairs, thank you.
Ms. Chandler's our honorary mayor
and famous author.
She wrote the Selena St. Cloud mysteries.
Oh.
Oh! Never heard of them.
Chief Rossi is a big fan.
I don't mean to be rude, you cannot be here.
This is a police investigation.
A man committed suicide.
Suicide? No.
Nash Gilbert would have never committed suicide.
You knew the victim?
20 years.
We had a drink a couple of hours ago.
We talked.
He propositioned me.
Propositioned you.
- You turn him down? - I always turned him down.
It never bothered him.
Yeah, well, something bothered him.
He left a suicide note on that laptop.
"To die,
to...
sleep.
To sleep, perchance to dream.
For in that sleep of death--"
Thank you very much. Okay, like I said,
an officer will take your statement downstairs.
Door's over there. Thanks for your help.
You know,
I've written you lots of times.
What does that mean?
"He was a big-city cop
from the wrong side of the tracks
who, just a fortnight before,
traded in the chaos of the metropolis
for small-town quiet,
hoping that the distance
would wash away the memories of a divorce
that never really ended."
What makes you think...
any of that is true?
Well, first of all, I know that you just got here,
'cause you are staying in a hotel,
but it is not the resort,
because you smell like the pine body wash
from one of the budget motels on the beach.
That tells me that you don't like wasting money,
which is further confirmed by your wardrobe,
which is clearly not new.
I'm guessing that the choices are deliberately noir,
hence the whole Sam Spade tough-guy thing.
The part about the messy divorce is a guess,
but I bet I'm right.
Door's still over there.
Great. Thanks for filling me in.
Thanks for the latte.
I'll, uh, give you a call if anything else comes up.
You're the best, Noah.
What are you doing?
I'm getting interviews,
for my story on Nash Gilbert.
So you are here to exploit my friend's death?
You're just jealous
because I know how to get people to talk to me.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do.
I am very good at talking to people,
which is why I know
that Nash's death was not a suicide,
'cause he never would have quoted Shakespeare
in a suicide note.
He thought Shakespeare was an overrated hack in tights,
and he just bought a vacation home
near the old mill
on the other side of the lake,
which a person doesn't do
if they're gonna do a swan dive off a balcony.
You're right, and you're wrong.
I am not wrong.
Nash's death was murder
not because of your wack theories,
but because there's actual forensic evidence
that someone was in the room with him
when he went off that balcony.
Like what?
First, the doors in all the guest rooms
have electronic locks.
Security told me
that Nash's door was unlocked from the inside
five minutes after his death.
Second, there was a scuff on the base of the lamp
consistent with a struggle,
and third, there were drag marks on the carpet,
indicating that someone dragged Nash to that balcony.
Trust me, as soon as security tells the cops
about the locks,
they'll pivot from suicide to murder.
Well, even if that is true,
you are still exploiting someone's death
by writing some dime-store-novel version of it
for the internet.
What the hell's a dime store?
Ugh.
{Allie] He was a friend, and a mentor,
and he will be missed by everyone.
Thank you.
Sounded like an instaquote to me.
I'm grieving the loss of a friend.
A good friend
I cared for.
I'm gonna find out what happened,
and you better not get in my way.
Allison Chandler.
Reid Sterling.
Come here.
Oh! I didn't think you were gonna make it this year.
I got a call from my mother.
Poor Margo is going apoplectic over Nash Gilbert,
so I jumped on a standby flight, and here I am.
Who's Margo?
Margaret Sterling, the-- the novelist.
- Sorry, you're--? - A person who's just leaving.
Nice to meet you.
How you holding up?
I am sick of talking about me.
I want to hear about your new girlfriend.
Whoa, how do you know I have a new girlfriend?
Well, I saw the ring on your finger.
It's not a wedding band,
but a promise ring perhaps?
Well, you know, I just thought it was finally time
to take the plunge, you know, settle down.
My business is going well.
It's a now-or-never kind of thing--
Reid, I am so happy for you.
Well, the problem is,
is that I just can't seem to--
to get over my crush on you.
And I was thinking--
You-- you okay?
Yeah, there's just a guy over there
who's trying really hard not to be noticed.
I don't see anybody.
It's nothing.
Look, I gotta go,
and you should check in.
Already done.
Room 437.
It's so good to see you.
Catch you later, Alley Cat.
Okay.
Where's the key?
Agh!
What are you doing here?
You said that Nash just bought a vacation house
on the other side of the lake,
so I gave my chatbot the search parameters,
and here we are.
- Chatbot? - AI. It's a brave new world.
I'd better be nicer to my toaster.
Speaking of tech,
what's the deal
with the security cameras at the resort?
Well, it's a-- it's a privacy thing,
according to town council,
so people have 'em, they just don't work.
Mm, right.
Because that's considered what, witchcraft?
Oh, laugh it up.
They burned women at the stake here in 1691.
Pretty sure that it was Salem in 1692.
Where do you think they got the idea?
Good luck with your investigation.
Oh! I solve mysteries for a living.
I think I'm good to go.
But are you, though?
Because you make up evidence,
and this is legit.
Anyway,
better go put this key back under the mat
where it belongs.
Oh, I know what you're doing.
Yeah, you're trying to get in my head,
but guess what?
It's not gonna work,
because I am canceling you.
Isn't that what people from your generation do
to people who annoy them?
They cancel them, and you are canceled.
I can't even.
That's not a sentence!
Hmm...
Hey, Ronald.
Have you, uh, seen Nikki?
Nikki? Yeah,
I saw her heading over to the park.
There's that "Taste of Founders Cove" thing
going on.
Where are you?
Oh, you're, uh-- you're--
you're breaking up. Uh--
Hello?
Yeah...
Hey! Stop!
Well, there she is,
Allison Chandler,
always making a splash.
Who the hell are you,
and why are you following Nikki Weston?
Tate Mulaney. I'm Nikki's boyfriend.
Actually, he's her ex-boyfriend.
How the hell do you know that?
Tate...
I have told you a million times, okay?
I've moved on.
You need to leave.
Okay. I'm sorry.
I just wanted to talk to you.
I'll go.
I hate to be mean,
and Tate is such a great guy,
it's just...
I found someone else.
He just won't let go.
It must be awful to lose your stepfather
on top of all this.
You know he was my stepfather?
Well, I know--
There was a photo of you in Nash's house
with an inscription on the back.
Things were complicated.
Is that why you went to see him when you got here?
I never said I saw him.
There were blue fibers on the armchair in Nash's study,
and they perfectly match the tassels on your bag.
Is there somewhere you and I can talk,
just the two of us?
Absolutely.
Nash and my mom got married when I was five.
He ignored me
until three years ago
when she died.
And that's when things got complicated?
My mother came from old money.
She left me millions,
but Nash controlled the trust.
So you went to see him when you got here
to talk about it.
He told me that everything's been invested,
but the only thing he ever invested in
was a vacation house for himself,
so I still haven't gotten a penny,
and now I have to pay for my own wedding.
Well, it's none of my business,
but you and Tate just broke up,
and now you're marrying someone you just met?
We've actually known each other for a while.
Um, we went to see a play together
before I flew up here,
and he drove me home afterwards
and proposed.
I had really hoped that Nash would understand
that now we needed the money to start our new lives, but...
he didn't care,
and then I got mad at him,
and now he's dead.
It's gonna be okay.
Nash is the one who got me my first job.
I was ghostwriting this book for someone that he knew,
and it's not like I even ever got any credit for it,
because the author was totally paranoid
about being found out,
but still,
if it wasn't for that first gig,
I might never have had the confidence to write at all.
Nikki, I need you to really think about
who could have hated your stepfather
enough to kill him.
I don't know.
Um...
Maybe talk to Lee Granway?
Lee?
Yeah, they used to yell at each other all the time
when I was a kid,
and I heard that they got into a fight yesterday.
Hey!
Oh, no, no. No, no, no.
My lips are sealed this time.
You are not gonna bamboozle me
into telling you anything about Nikki.
Like the fact that Nash got her a ghostwriting job,
or that she just inherited a boatload of dough?
How do you know that?
Tate Mulaney was wearing a hoodie
that said "Iron Robot" on the back.
It's a '90s alternative rock band.
So I asked around,
and the only place in Founders Cove
that plays '90s alt-rock is the Roundhouse.
It's a dive bar next to the movie theatre,
so I went there, bought him a drink,
and he spilled the tea.
I could never do that.
Well, Nikki wouldn't talk to me,
but she talked to you.
Do you wanna grab a coffee?
As long as you're buying.
Hi.
Could I have a venti oat milk caramel macchiato, please,
but could you put it in a recyclable grande cup,
and also with a half pump
of vanilla and chocolate drizzle,
but only at the bottom,
and can you also steam the oat milk,
but don't make it too hot. Thanks.
That was longer than my third marriage.
There's nothing wrong with wanting things
the way you want them.
I couldn't agree more.
I'd like one large black coffee, please.
Is that the best you got?
I like keeping things simple.
Which is why you've been married
how many times?
Ooh, sassy.
"Sassy"? Who even uses that word?
I bet your mother used it, a lot.
My mother disappeared when I was ten...
...and before you start in
on how I'm drawn to solving mysteries
because of her,
I have tried to find her,
but I can't,
at least not yet,
so I'd much rather talk about coffee.
What I wanted to say
is that I'm impressed with you.
You got in and out of that hotel room
before Kerrigan even knew you were there.
I got kicked out.
That's because you're famous and people notice you.
Well, aren't you an "internet celebrity" person?
Yeah, I was, for, like, a hot second,
but, truth is,
all that stuff about advertisers with big dollars
was total bullshit.
What happened?
When I was in college,
I wrote a story on the Staten Island Slayer,
and someone said
that I could make a whole bunch of money
if I turned it into a podcast,
so I did, and it went viral,
and I started making bucketloads of money,
and it was all awesome,
until my manager stole literally everything from me,
including the rights to my name,
"The Andi Walker True Crime Show."
Didn't you read your contract?
Of course I read my contract.
I just didn't understand it.
Anyway, I went back to writing,
which is what I've always wanted to do
in the first place.
That's why I came to this convention,
to try and find a book agent,
but everyone said no,
because they think my podcast is shit,
and it is shit,
but it's not my podcast,
so now you know how deeply ironic
and desperate my life is.
- Oh... - Thank you.
Please.
You want "ironic and desperate"?
After I win yet another award,
my publisher wants to retire Selena St. Cloud,
because young readers
like all that forensic crap that you're so good at.
Okay, wait a sec.
I have an idea,
and... just think about it.
What if
you and I write the book about Nash together?
What? No. That-- No. What?
But just think about it for a second.
We have very different skill sets.
All right,
it is funny,
because Nash did say
he wanted me to write about him someday.
Okay, for the sake of discussion,
if we were to give it a try,
you would have to relocate to Founders Cove,
because I don't do the Zooms.
Roger that, partner, I don't have a life,
so moving wouldn't be a problem.
"Partner"? No, not partner. Assistant.
You've never even written a book before.
But you just said Selena St. Cloud got the boot.
You just said your podcast went to shit.
You know what? We're done here.
Oh, yeah, we are done. We're hella done.
Yeah, that's right.
I know how to use the Urban Dictionary.
Then you should know it's not "the Zooms".
It's just "Zoom".
I'm canceling you again.
Ugh.
Would you stop following me?
I'm not following you.
Okay, all right, all right.
Hey, are you two okay?
- Yeah. - Yeah? Okay.
Did either of you get a good look at the driver?
No, the windows were tinted,
but it was a black SUV, no plates.
Okay, do either of you have anyone
that would have any reason to want to hurt you?
No.
Well, maybe.
I mean, we've been asking people about Nash's murder.
Did I not tell you
to stay away from the investigation?
Well, you didn't tell me
that I couldn't ask people questions.
I have a constitutional right to ask questions
of anyone I want to ask questions of,
which is a run-on sentence
with a double negative,
ending in a preposition,
but I'm angry,
so just deal with it.
Put out a BOLO on a black SUV, no tags.
Also, have patrol check the woods off the interstate.
People are always getting rid of interesting things up there.
Like what?
I'll leave that to your vivid imagination.
Huh.
I'm no expert on reading people,
but I'm loving this enemies-to-lovers arc
for you two.
You must've hit your head.
Allie.
Thought you had a seminar this morning.
Uh, well, we, uh, we finished early,
so I thought I'd work on my swing.
Need a little more practice.
I learned a long time ago not to underestimate you.
Nash used to say that.
It's so strange that he's gone.
Yeah, even stranger, the police think it's murder,
not suicide.
I heard.
I also heard that yesterday wasn't the first time
that you and Nash blew up at each other.
You've been talking to Nikki.
Did she tell you what the arguments were about?
I'm guessing
they had something to do with the ledger
that Nash hid under his desk.
You know, when you and I first started,
we lived and died by the reviews of three or four major critics,
so when I heard
Nash Gilbert's opinion was for sale,
I signed up.
I paid the bastard for five years.
Why'd you stop?
Well, critics lost their clout
because of
all the self-appointed reviewers online.
I saw Nash the day before he died.
He tried blackmailing me again.
He wasn't happy when I said no.
So you didn't start paying him again?
If there's another set of numbers in that ledger,
Nash was scamming someone else,
and before you ask about an alibi,
I was at the Muddy Duck till midnight
the night of the murder.
The police are gonna want you to prove that.
Well, I can.
Nash went off the balcony at 11:30 p.m.
I was still at the bar at 11:53.
See for yourself.
Right under the picture.
Okay.
Ms. Chandler.
Look, I know you think that I'm an arrogant little shit,
but I just wanted to tell you
that I'm sorry for the way that things ended yesterday.
I sincerely doubt that.
Okay.
Yes, I have said some mean things about your work,
but the reality is...
...you're a best-selling author.
To be your assistant and learn from someone like you
is the chance of a lifetime,
so if the job offer is still available...?
Absolutely not.
Yeah.
Someone tried to kill us...
...and if they succeed,
we will be equally dead,
so...
we're equal partners or not partners at all.
Does this mean we share a byline?
Yes,
but you're on probation.
Wouldn't be the first time.
Why am I not surprised?
Okay, so I spoke to Noah, and they found the SUV.
It was reported stolen
three hours before it nearly ran us over.
Any prints?
No, it was wiped clean,
but they did find a partial under the steering wheel,
so they're working on a match.
I spoke to Lee,
and he's got an alibi for the night of the murder.
Yeah, so does Nikki.
One of her fans said
that she was rehearsing a TikTok video
when Nash did his swan dive.
So we're nowhere unless we find more evidence.
Did Nash have a car here?
Oh, boy...
Ladies!
How can I help?
We're working on a novel about Nash Gilbert,
and we thought we'd come check out his car.
Maybe you should write about something else.
Like an annoying cop with a big ego
and a small juris-dic-tion?
Hey,
you missed something.
What's that?
Let me see it.
Oh, make-up case.
With the letters "A.C." on it.
Oh, that's where that went.
It's been missing for years.
I had a new one made, you can keep it.
Okay. Oh, that's...
- That's interesting. - Really?
A condom that's old enough to be on Medicare
is interesting?
You know what's interesting?
The fact that your fingerprints
are all over Nash Gilbert's study.
- You didn't wear gloves? - You did?
Have you ever watched Law and Order?
Okay, do you have someone
who can vouch for your whereabouts
at the time of the incident?
I had just finished a panel.
I was talking to someone.
Does this someone have a name?
What are you, the alibi police?
- That's literally who he is-- - That's exactly who I am.
Okay, well, what are you gonna do now, arrest me?
No, I'm not-- I'm not gonna arrest you.
Fine. Let's go.
- Wait, what is happening? - I don't--
Where are you going?
To the station.
- What? - Where are your handcuffs?
I'm not gonna handcuff you.
Oh, come on, come on, come on, come on.
I've never been handcuffed before.
Well, that's not entirely true.
Look, just--
We may have more questions for you later.
Just don't leave town.
- Okay? - I'm not leaving town.
- Good. - I have a seminar later,
and a hair appointment after that,
which I can't miss,
'cause there's a press thing tomorrow,
and as far as what you found in Nash's car,
yeah, that's right,
done some stuff with Nash I'm not proud of,
but don't you dare slut shame me,
because I know
that you've done some skanky things
you're not proud of.
Okay, I...
This is not about me.
So, you're Ms. Chandler's new writing partner?
Yup.
If I can find a place to live.
This town is expensive, and I am dead broke,
so...
All right, come on, let's go.
Maybe we can grab a coffee sometime.
No, no, no, no, she's gonna be very busy.
It's just a coffee.
Yeah, you haven't heard her order.
Okay, we can go.
Hey, Ms. Chandler, you still have that guest house, right?
What about it?
Well, Andi was saying
she's having a hard time finding a place to live,
so I thought--
Oh, well, it's, uh, it's being remodeled,
and I'd have to get permission from the town council
if someone were gonna live there full-time.
Yeah, no worries.
I can find a place on my own.
Hey!
Your hair looks great.
Hasn't anyone told you that it's not ladylike
to talk with your mouth full?
Not since the ball at Netherfield.
I can't believe it!
Nikki Weston and Margaret Sterling!
You're both such classic authors,
and you have such incredible flair with your characters.
Um, can I have a picture?
Well, that doesn't look good.
Lee Granway,
you're under arrest for the murder of Nash Gilbert.
Wait, wait, wait, okay...
Slow down, slow down.
Yesterday you were going to arrest me, and today, Lee.
For the last time, I wasn't going to arrest you.
Lee was at the Muddy Duck when Nash got murdered.
He's got a cell phone video to prove it.
Nash Gilbert died at 11:30 p.m.
Witnesses have Lee Granway exiting the pub at 10:30 p.m.
Well, they're wrong.
Cell phones don't lie.
Yeah, sorry to barge in,
but if you know how to access the metadata,
you can change the date and time on a cell phone.
- There you have it. - Ignore her.
I'm afraid that's precisely what the killer did
in Mr. Granway's new novel.
But that doesn't mean--
She's right, Allie.
When I heard what happened to Nash,
I knew I was going to be a suspect, so...
...I did what I had to do.
Read him his rights.
Lee Granway,
you have the right to remain silent...
I didn't kill anyone.
...anything you say can and will be used against you
in a court of law.
You have the right to an attorney...
You doing okay?
I'm never wrong about these things.
Allie, you are looking a little pale.
The gift shop in the lobby is open again.
Go get, like, an energy bar or something.
I'll be fine.
Come in.
I hope I'm not, uh, interrupting.
No.
Uh, no.
I'm just working on that Gilbert case,
and, I guess, working on my speech
for the farewell banquet for your convention.
You're the guest speaker?
Yeah.
Rossi couldn't make it, so...
you're stuck with me.
What, uh...?
What can I do for you?
I am told
that this is what people do
when they want someone to talk to them.
Well, I'm told that people do that
when they wanna apologize to someone.
Fine.
I got a little overly dramatic yesterday, and I'm sorry.
So... donuts?
Yeah. Yes, please.
What I also wanted to say
is that I've known Lee Granway for decades.
We went to college together.
He's a close friend.
Nothing romantic, though, but-but close,
but just... not in a romantic way.
Okay, so just a close, non-romantic friend
who falsified evidence.
What was he supposed to do?
He knew you were gonna ask for an alibi.
Yup, so it's my fault
that your boyfriend lied to the authorities?
First, he is not my boyfriend.
Second, he did not kill Nash.
Well, the lab confirmed
he falsified the metadata on his cell.
What he did was self-protective.
It came from a place of fear, not guilt.
Yeah, or maybe your close, non-romantic ex-boyfriend
is simply playing you.
You know what? I came here
trying to share some valuable personal insight,
and all I've gotten is sarcasm and disrespect.
Sarcasm and disre--
Where have I heard--?
Oh, isn't that what Selena St. Cloud says
to Detective Frank Berra
at the end of your first novel?
Oh, I knew you were lying
when you said you hadn't heard of my books.
Yeah, because I thought
you needed a good taste of humble pie--
Oh, well, you...
need to go on a...
diet.
Oh, my God, did your luggage explode?
Lose the 'tude, okay?
We've got work to do.
This is called an investigation board.
The police use them all the time--
Oh, for God's sake, I know
what an investigation board is, okay? You lose the 'tude.
- Go. - Great.
So we've got two suspects.
Lee Granway...
and Nikki Weston.
Nikki isn't a suspect.
She benefits from Nash's death.
You can't be sympathetic and a suspect
at the same time.
It happens all the time in your books.
Not all the time.
Would you please just listen to me?
Nikki has an alibi and Lee doesn't.
Okay, but--
B-Before you interrupt me,
it's kind of sus that he forged evidence,
but it doesn't prove that he killed Nash,
even though he's been arrested for it.
Okay, keep going.
Then there's the ledger,
which is our key piece of evidence.
It documents that Lee was paying Nash,
but there's another set of numbers,
which could mean there's another suspect out there.
Okay, if you know who it is, spit it out.
This is actually the part where we work together,
remember?
You spin some crackpot theory,
and I find the evidence.
Well, we didn't need a board for that,
and besides, what kind of board is this, huh?
It's a mess,
and you need photos for a real board.
Wait a minute.
Could there be another secret that Nash was hiding?
Like what?
Nash got Nikki a ghost-writing job
for no credit.
She said that the author was paranoid
that her readers were gonna find out.
Which means
Nash could have been blackmailing the author.
How did you figure me out?
There was a fan taking pictures
just before Lee got arrested,
and she said that you and Nikki have the same classic style.
It's no wonder they're the same.
Nikki wrote your book as well as her own.
I was terrified
that my audience would think I'd lost my touch
if they knew I used a ghostwriter.
So Nash threatened to go public,
and you paid him to keep it quiet.
I did,
for eight months,
but then I told him I was done.
It's better to live with the consequences
than live with a lie,
but, please, don't tell Reid, hmm?
He, uh...
He worries so much about money,
even though he tells me not to.
But Reid's business is doing great.
No, not as great as he wants you to believe.
He's downtown right now
shopping for things he can't afford.
I hate to ask, but--?
I was at my screening that night.
200 people saw me.
Now I'm the one getting a headache.
The gift shop in the lobby's re-opened.
Maybe an energy bar would help.
Reid said exactly the same thing.
Maybe the two of you need an energy bar.
Wait...
Were those his exact words?
The gift shop "re-opened"?
Why are we talking about the gift shop?
Because explain to me
how Reid would know
that the gift shop was ever closed
if he didn't get here until after it re-opened,
which was after Nash died.
Well, he couldn't,
unless he was here before Nash's death.
What if
Reid drove up here from Hartford the day of the murder,
killed Nash,
drove back to Hartford overnight,
and then caught the flight back up here
the next morning?
Do you have a shred of evidence
to support anything you just said?
No, but I bet we can find something in his room.
437.
He told me when he checked in,
and he's downtown shopping.
Okay, I'll take the dresser, you take the closet.
- Just hurry. - Okay.
I can't believe that Reid could do something like this.
Oh, my God.
Look at this.
It was in the pocket.
A ticket from the Hartford Rep Theatre,
two nights before the murder.
Nikki said she went to go see a play
with her new boyfriend
on the Wednesday before she got here.
What if Reid is the new boyfriend?
Reid needed the money,
and he already knew Nikki from the conventions.
And she told him
she was inheriting her mom's estate,
so he turned up the charm and got her to dump Tate.
But when Nikki told Reid
that Nash wouldn't give her a dime,
he drove up here
to try and convince him,
and then, when Nash said no,
he pushed him over the balcony.
Look at the play they saw in Hartford.
Hamlet.
That explains the suicide note.
I am calling the police.
Yeah.
I'll take that.
Get in.
Oh, Reid, you don't have to do this.
I said, get in.
We can't fit in there.
Do you want me to cut off an arm?
I think we can squeeze.
Don't panic. Okay.
I have a plan.
This had better be good.
Okay.
We'll do the--
We'll do the tail-light thing.
What? What are you talking about?
If you would get your elbow out of my lady parts,
I will show you.
Ow!
Okay...
One, two, three.
Oh, yes!
Let me get my hand out.
Okay, I'm out.
Miss Weston,
how can I help?
I'm not sure.
Um... Allison Chandler
is not answering her phone,
and she just missed a panel.
With everything that's going on, I just--
All right, well...
we'll check it out.
- Thanks for the heads-up. - Hey, Jack!
- Yeah? - Lab called.
We got a hit from the print in the SUV.
Talk to me.
Reid Sterling,
he was arrested two years ago for fraud,
but the charges didn't stick.
You bringing him in?
He's not at the hotel,
but we just got a call
from a motorist on the interstate.
Said she saw a hand waving out of the tail-light well
- of the car in front of her. - What?
It's a rental registered to--
Reid Sterling?
I bet he's on his way to where he dropped that SUV.
Faster! Come on!
Right there.
Ah!
Dig.
That is not how you hold a shovel.
How in God's name
do you know how to hold a shovel?
I compost.
A shovel helps you separate the greens from the browns,
- like a lasagna-- - Stop talking.
It's really hard.
Okay, dear God, give me that.
Okay, watch.
- See? - Mm-hmm, yup.
You're doing a great job,
but let's keep in mind
that you are not making a lasagna,
you are digging our own graves,
so maybe pump the brakes a little bit.
For God's sakes, just shut up and dig!
Okay, you don't have to yell.
Enough!
- Enough! - Freeze!
Oh!
Don't move.
I would not do that.
Cuff him.
Reid Sterling,
you have the right to remain silent.
Anything you say
can and will be used against you in a court of law...
In conclusion,
as the new chief detective of Founders Cove,
I'm honored to speak
in front of
such an esteemed group of mystery writers.
Solving crimes is both art and science.
We need free thinkers as well as analytical minds
that can support theory with fact,
and mystery writers?
Well, mystery writers do both.
Some...
better than others,
so...
here's to all of them.
Let's give them a big round of applause.
Yes!
All right, look,
that's the end of our formal program,
but before we enjoy some music,
let's all raise a glass in memory of our dear friend,
Nash Gilbert, hmm?
To Nash!
Cheers.
Oh!
"Dear friend"?
I guess we shouldn't say anything
about the blackmail part.
Not the time or the place.
- Agreed. - Hey, Allie!
I just wanted to thank you
for everything you've done for us.
Aw, you know I love a good happily ever after.
- Hey, Nikki! - Oh.
Must be hard for Nikki to find out
that Reid was the killer.
Well, she seems to have recovered.
True.
So, uh...
what'd you think of my speech?
Oh, it was pleasant.
Yeah, good.
Good.
I was going for pleasant.
You know, Rossi called,
and he said he's authorizing you
to hire me as a consultant on an as-needed basis.
Oh, he did, did he?
Okay, so police don't hire writers to be consultants,
and you know that. You know what I think?
I think... I think you just wanna spend more time with me.
Maybe I just wanna spend more time
learning about crime scenes.
Maybe.
I'm gonna go apologize to Lee Granway
for, uh, you know, wrongfully arresting him.
Yeah, it's usually a good idea.
Boomers are so cute when they flirt.
Okay, first of all, I was not flirting.
Second of all, I'm not a Boomer.
I'm a Gen X-er.
Right.
The generation that brought us parachute pants.
Yeah, good point. Look,
do not lose this.
I'm not giving you another one.
What made you change your mind?
We have a book to write,
and I cannot have you straggling in
in the middle of the afternoon.
Curfew is at 10:00 on weekdays, and no ravers.
Okay, the word is "ragers",
and I haven't had a curfew since high school.
The town council did not want me
to let you rent the place, okay?
They took a vote, and...
♪ In the moonlight
♪ Back in the city lights
♪ Yeah, it's all right
♪ Back in the city lights
♪ You're a golden statuette
♪ Forever immortalized