All language subtitles for Youre.Killing.Me.S01E01

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.

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