Original subtitles

- You eat lunch? - Oh, you read my mind.

I am currently in pursuit of lunch.

Daniel. Get a hit on that BOLO?

Just about to call you.

Hit and run? Stolen vehicle?

Tacos.

Well, it is your lucky day, my friend,

because today, lunch is on me.

Ooh.

Lunch? I like lunch. Where are you going?

The Art of Boar.

Well, I know that meals can get a little hunter/gatherer

down here in the glades,

but that can't actually be the name of a real restaurant.

Well, it's a food truck.

And, you know,

it's a play on words. "The Art Of" --

War. Written by Sun Tzu.

No, I get it.

It's a clever pun but kind of annoying.

Yeah, well, all puns aside,

it's damn good food.

I normally hit it up for breakfast,

but it wasn't in its usual spot.

And there were no Twitter updates.

You're on Twitter?

Hey, the pope is on Twitter. I thought it was time.

- So how did you find the Art of Boar? - BOLO.

You put out a BOLO for lunch purposes? Really?

Yeah.

You're aware that that's against FDLE policy, right?

But since I'm starving, what the hell?

Great. The more the merrier.

Do you actually do the tweeting?

I think it's just "tweeting," Carlos.

And no. I have a life.

Yeah, please.

You're following food trucks on the Internet.

Okay, Carlos, you will stop mocking me

once you taste Chef Tony's magical wild-boar tacos.

Magical?

You might have over-sold this one, compadre.

The only magic we can hope for is not getting mugged.

Oh, I wouldn't worry. My gun's usually an effective deterrent.

I feel like a pack of alley dogs

are about to show up and have us for lunch.

Okay, seriously, this is not the usual scene.

Hey, Jim, come on. L-let's head back, huh?

Hilda at the roach coach always keeps a couple

of tamales de puerco on the side for me.

Hey, Chef? Tony?

Well, it looks like the Art of Boar is out of business.

You think he pre-cooked anything?

The Glades 03x05 Food Fight Original Air Date 07/01/2012

==sync, correction by dcdah== www.addic7ed.com

Move along people. Truck's not in service.

It's a crime scene, folks. It's a crime scene.

Let's move it along.

E.R. rounds? Well, that's kind of cool.

I know. I'm kind of excited.

I mean, I've done rounds before,

but never as a full-fledged medical student.

What are you up to?

Oh, you know.

Just trying to save the world one food truck at a time.

Please tell me that you haven't been eating

at food trucks every day since I left.

Well, not every day.

You're killing me. You know that?

I got to go. I miss you.

I miss you, too.

Okay. I'm hanging up now.

Doesn't sound like it.

Uh, well, now I'm really hanging up.

I don't know.

Cal?

Gotcha! Bye.

Bye.

I feel their pain.

I still haven't had lunch.

So, Chef Tony died of a gunshot wound to the chest.

What gave it away? The huge, gaping hole beside the heart?

You know me -- master of the obvious.

Bullet went clean through.

Full autopsy will rule out any hidden secondary causes.

But I think it's safe to say we know what the murder weapon was.

- Time of death? - Uh, based on body temp and rigor,

4:00 A.M.

I noticed the cash register was empty.

Maybe a robbery gone bad?

Nah, it's doubtful.

These food trucks are a cash-only business.

Robbing Tony at the start of his shift

wouldn't make sense.

But wouldn't that be the simplest explanation?

I'm thinking murder staged to look like a robbery.

So, not the most obvious explanation.

But you knew Tony, right?

So, did he have any enemies?

Probably.

Tony was like a rock star.

He had lines of customers, tons of Twitter fans.

But he was a hardass.

No substitutions, no changes to his menu.

I once saw him 86 a palm glade hoie

'cause she wanted extra onions on her sliders.

It was for her own good.

I mean, onion breath and a string bikini?

Not a good pairing. So to speak.

Ah, string bikini.

Now I see why it was your favorite place to eat.

No. It was the tacos. Mm.

The guy was doing something extraordinary.

He wanted people to experience it

the way it was intended.

So he had to be an asswipe.

I respected that.

Huh. You have a soft side. Who knew?

Shooter was standing inside the truck

by the passenger-side door.

Bullet went through the victim

and

Into the refrigerator.

Wow. He cured his own meat.

At least the ham survived.

And, yes, it's going into evidence.

9mm.

Tony's the kind of guy

that would keep a gun for protection.

Maybe the shooter got to it before he did.

Already looking for it.

Do you have any suspects?

Well, I know one particular food-truck owner

that hated his guts.

What, enough to shoot him?

Well, let's find out.

What -- is something wrong, detective?

Oh, no, just, uh, well, when I said "let's,"

you know, I kind of meant me.

By myself.

Yeah, I, uh...

I don't really do the whole partner thing.

What about Carlos? Carlos doesn't count.

Does he know that?

How am I supposed to observe you if I don't shadow you?

No idea.

Oh, why don't you go flip through "The Art of War"?

Maybe you'll come up with a crafty move.

Thank you.

Get out of my truck, or I'll crack you open!

Hey, Chef Lana, put the bat down.

Oh. Sorry.

Thought you were trying to rob me.

After what happened to Tony,

we've all been a little on edge around here.

That's understandable.

Uh, mind if I ask you a few questions?

Wait a second. I know you.

You're that annoying guy

always whining like a little baby about my food being too spicy.

You're a cop?

Uh, detective. And your food is too spicy.

- For lightweights. - So, it's supposed to dissolve your tongue?

Some people just can't handle what I bring.

Can I get back to cooking?

I got a long line of hungry people.

Uh, yeah. So I noticed.

Well, especially now that Tony's gone.

What does that mean?

Nothing. It's just simple observation.

You know, your biggest competitor's gone,

and you have more business.

I don't see the connection.

Well, you need any edge you can get.

Korean food --

it's a bit of a harder sell around these parts.

No, I mean, don't get me wrong. I love it --

when it's not burning a hole in my esophagus.

I'm a good chef,

and this line of people can speak to that.

This line of people

can also speak to the daily servings of trash talk

you and Tony used to lob back and forth.

That's what we all do.

It riles us up,

challenges us to fine-tune our skills.

Sure, but Tony went a little farther

than the witty put-downs, didn't he?

I once saw him walk up to your line

and steal customers like he was trying to piss you off.

Look, chefs are competitive people.

But at the end of the day, we respect each other.

And that goes for me and for Tony.

Respect doesn't give you an alibi.

- Where were you at 4:00 A.M.? - Sleeping.

And I bet all the other chefs were, too.

Tony was the only one who liked the morning shift.

Mm.

Yeah, I'm familiar with it.

Mondays and Wednesdays, right?

Took him three to four hours to braise his boar shoulder.

Started prepping at 4:00 A.M.

Daniel.

Okay. I'll be right there.

Uh, any chance I can cut the line, Chef?

- Just this once. - Seriously?

Soft-shell-crab bun and pulled-pork sandwich. Kimchi on the side.

White man's kimchi?

Yeah.

Sorry I'm late.

You've finally decided to honor us with your presence.

Can we get to work now?

So, did you have a nice weekend?

Dr. Calvert caught his kid's bronchitis,

and I had to cover his shift.

Oh. I guess working's better

than having bronchitis, right?

Or not.

Did I mention how happy I am to be here?

I really think I can learn a lot from you.

Pick a specialty yet?

I'm thinking emergency medicine.

It's what I have experience in,

and I actually like the fast pace and the variety.

Mm. All depends on if you can find a hospital that's a match.

I hope it's in Florida.

I kind of need to get back.

It's not really up to you.

You take the best match that's offered.

If you get an offer.

Patient is exhibiting difficulty breathing

and has a history of heart failure.

Don't have to raise your hand.

I, uh, I noticed that the patient

doesn't have a central-venous catheter.

Wouldn't that help us better monitor --

that's what you are doing right now. Sorry.

Aah!

Aah! Geez. Really?

Aah! Seriously?

You know what? Um, let me help.

I've done like a million of these.

That better?

Thank you.

You can't fight city hall, amigo --

if Bureau Chief Starke wants to follow you around and observe,

you kind of have to let her.

Yeah, well, I don't want her following me around.

I don't want anyone following me around.

She can follow me around.

There you go. She can shadow Daniel.

- Who'd want to shadow Daniel? - True.

Hey, my research is an essential part of the investigations

and, if you ask me, absolutely riveting.

Yeah, Carlos.

So, uh, what kind of riveting stuff do you have on Tony?

There's a nasty fight going on

between the food-truck chefs and the boardwalk restaurants.

The restaurant owners are lobbying for a new law

which would require the trucks to park 300 feet away from their establishments.

Effectively banning them from the boardwalk.

Exactly. I found a video post

of a pretty ugly city council meeting.

Tony really had it out

for the district councilman, Greg Doucet.

I've heard of this guy.

He's some kind of war hero?

Not "some kind."

Councilman Doucet is a war hero.

Oh, uh, hey, about before, um --

oh, no need to explain. I completely understand.

I'll just have to observe you in your natural setting.

You won't even know I'm here.

What's the saying?

"Quiet as a forest"?

Let me guess -- "Art of War"?

Which you've read. Start to finish.

Eleventh-grade book report. Kind of had to.

So... Councilman Doucet.

Don't go overboard with him.

He's a friend of law enforcement.

When the FDLE was looking

to open a substation in Palm Glade,

Doucet paved the way with the Chamber of Commerce

to lease this building.

He's why we're here.

Well, I'm not saying don't question him.

I'm just saying, you know,

keep the shenanigans to a minimum.

There's gonna be shenanigans, isn't there?

Well, uh, according to Chef Lana's Twitter account,

the councilman's having dinner with the enemies

at ground zero for the food-truck debate.

So, uh, yeah. There's gonna be shenanigans.

Welcome. One for dinner?

Uh, no, sorry. I just ate.

Have you tried that shrimp truck --

out the front?

Guy makes a killer shrimp toast.

Uh, I'm sorry.

Was it the killer, the shrimp, or the toast

that made you make that face?

I'm a brick-and-mortar business, detective.

Sue me if I'm not a fan of food trucks.

Well, I'm not gonna sue you.

But I may want to talk to you later.

And I've just found the guy that I'm looking for,

so thank you.

Councilman Doucet? Detective Jim Longworth.

Oh, hey. Uh, you must be out of Palm Glade.

How's that substation working out?

Friend of law enforcement.

Got it.

Can you give us a minute?

Yeah. Of course.

So, I hear that you're hosting a dinner party

for your constituents here tonight.

Uh, why'd you choose this place?

Uh, well, Vanessa makes a fantastic Linguini and clams.

And I like to support local businesses.

Except if they're on four wheels

and don't pay their property taxes.

There's really no need to take the antagonistic tone.

I'm a friend of law enforcement.

Yeah, that horse is beat.

You heard about Tony Acosta?

It's terrible.

And I was afraid that something like this was gonna happen.

I've always said the food trucks

attract an unsavory element to the neighborhood.

Oh, yeah, 'cause everyone knows those foodie types are a scourge on society.

No, the trucks promote loitering which attracts vagrants.

And if I were you,

I'd start by questioning all the homeless in the area.

Uh, I don't tell you how to do your job, councilman,

although I would love to,

so why don't you let me do mine?

Like telling me what happened

at last week's city council meeting, when thing blew up

into a full-on battle between you and Tony.

Well, I-it really wasn't a battle.

It was more like a healthy discussion

about what's best for the community.

Really? 'Cause it looked like a battle to me.

All you give a shit about is the restaurant association

and all the cash it funnels

into your greedy, scummy little hands.

There's Tony. There's you. Not your good side, but...

Oh, yeah? Well, how about this?

Here it comes. It's coming. It's coming.

Is this acceptable?

Wait.

Huh? that.

You jarhead son of a bitch!

But watch this. No, no. Watch this one.

Oh, man.

And 36,000 hits seeing you getting hit in the head

with Tony's shoes.

That had to hurt in more ways than one. Come on.

Yeah, it wasn't a shining moment

in my political career.

Somewhat humiliating.

Yeah, well, that's one word for it.

I'll tell you another word for it.

"Motive."

The last two years so you can uh...

Councilman Doucet is in interrogation.

You brought him in?

Do you have enough on him?

I don't know. Maybe.

Yes. I will tread lightly.

Yes, he's a friend of law enforcement.

Yes, he reminded me twice.

I get it. He can be an ass.

He knows how to talk out of it.

Just try to keep it in the ballpark of civil.

It's me.

Here's the background check you asked for.

Thank you.

Oh, that's interesting.

Shall we?

You really don't have anything better to do

than watch me grill a politician?

Well, it is my job to see how you do yours.

So, no, I have nothing better to do.

So, here's a question for you.

Why did my murder victim throw his shoes at you?

It wasn't like that, detective.

It was an emotional meeting.

Tony's an emotional guy.

Things just got out of line.

What you don't see in that video

is Tony apologizing to me afterwards.

Oh, anyone else see this apology?

We made peace, detective.

I find that hard to believe.

I mean, he called you -- and I quote --

a "jarhead son of a bitch."

Now, unless that's a new term of endearment that I'm not familiar with,

I don't think Tony had warm and fuzzy feelings for you.

You're blowing the whole incident out of proportion.

Really? 'Cause it surprises me that he'd take down a military man like you.

I mean, you're a decorated marine.

A P.O.W.

I mean, you're Palm Glade's own John McCain.

McCain's a Navy man, but...

Right. Right.

It's bad form to mix up

a soldier's military branch, right?

Now, is that what the real trouble

between you and Tony was?

Interservice rivalry?

I mean, my trusty intern looked into Tony's background.

He was a retired S.E.A.L.

I ate at his truck all the time.

He never once mentioned it,

let along bragged about it, unlike someone else I know.

Okay, it wasn't a rivalry.

Tony and I, w-we shared stories

about our time in the service, nothing more.

Honestly, after the shoe incident,

Tony and I used that as a catalyst

to find a middle ground on the food-truck issue.

You pride yourself on your neutrality, don't you?

Yes, it behooves me

to listen to all the constituents in my district,

be it resident or small-business owner.

Yeah, especially be it

the ones who donated to your political action committee --

the one set up to feed that enormous appetite of yours

for a run at the governor's mansion?

Including members of the restaurant association

who I'm sure are first in line when it comes to giving out favors.

Okay, now, being ambitious does not make me a murderer.

And what you're accusing me of is crony capitalism.

And that is a charge that I take very seriously.

But you do have to pay back your big donors,

don't you, councilman?

I mean, making sure that the food trucks disappear --

well, that's certainly gonna help.

Getting rid of a big-mouth rabble-rouser like Tony --

that's just icing on the cake.

I was staying neutral.

Let's be clear.

I did not kill Tony Acosta.

I saw enough bloodshed in Iraq.

So, if we're done with the pointless third degree...

Yeah, actually, I have one more pointless question.

Where were you at 4:00 A.M.?

Let me guess -- sleeping?

Treadmill. Early riser.

Once a marine, always a marine.

So, what's your theory?

Doucet killed Tony for political gain?

That's definitely a good theory.

But you're not buying it?

Yes? No?

Oh. Right. Sorry.

Uh, we'll talk about this later?

Yeah.

Tony had a registered military-issue beretta 9mm.

Our guys couldn't find it in his apartment.

And I didn't find it in the truck.

I'll have a couple of unis

sweep the area where we found the truck one more time.

They might have missed something.

I did find a substance

on the floor of the truck, near the door.

Looks like some kind of soil.

Couldn't find any trace evidence matching on it

on Tony's shoes. So that could be from our shooter?

Possibly. I'm having it analyzed.

Also got the stomach content back.

Eggplant parmesan. Eaten at about, mm, 10:00 P.M.

Well, Tony tweeted that he shut up shop

on the boardwalk around 10:00 P.M.

Hmm. What's the closest Italian place?

It's about 100 feet away.

And I hear they have great Linguini and clams.

Hmm.

See? I knew I'd want to talk to you again.

Any reason you didn't mention the dead guy ate here last night?

Oh, other than you were busy raving about the shrimp toast?

I didn't think it was important.

Or maybe you didn't want to tell me.

Okay, I probably should've said something.

Yeah. He eat and run?

He came by to smooth some things over.

Fact is we weren't the best of friends.

Let me guess -- food trucks came in, took over,

your place took a hit.

Something like that.

Had nothing to do with the red pleather chairs

and the geriatric menu?

Look, our food may be traditional,

but it's delicious.

Always has been.

I have plenty of regulars.

Basically the blue-plate set.

Nothing wrong with that. They're paying customers.

Except most restaurants make their money off alcohol.

And I'm guessing Agnes and Milton there

aren't doing jaeger shots off the bar rail.

All businesses have their ups and downs.

Economy's getting better. I am sure we'll pick up.

Hey, get off your ass and do something.

Wipe down the menus.

Must be difficult to see

the business that your grandparents built

and became an icon of the community

die on your watch.

It's not my fault, detective.

The food trucks have it a lot easier.

They don't have all the overhead.

- Long list? - Let's see.

Linens, glassware, nonstop air-conditioning,

employees to pay,

plus the strict health and building codes.

I mean, I'm looking at a huge bill right now

just to replace these pipes.

And that's why the restaurant owners

need to even up the playing field.

Get all those revenue-eating food trucks off the boardwalk.

Yeah. City council's working on it.

Well, now that their biggest star kicked the bucket, you might have a chance.

Tony Acosta a star?

Please.

That guy was a fry cook at a greasy spoon.

Lana discovered him,

pulled him out of that dump.

Lana Kim, the Red Koi Chef?

Before Lana got her hooks in him,

he had skid row in his sights.

Hey, guys...

Hooks, huh?

Okay, listen up, everybody.

The truck is not open.

You can look, but do not touch.

It's a crime scene, folks.

It's a crime scene.

One of the more riveting parts of your internship?

Not really.

Maybe I should put tape around the perimeter.

Where's your car?

In the shop. Again.

Not that I'm complaining.

Marisol's optima is just as well-equipped.

Air-cooled front seats, panoramic sunroof --

you sound like a car commercial.

I'm just trying to do my job here.

Speaking of, anything new on the case?

Well, uh, I found out

that Tony's rival was actually his mentor.

- Lana Kim? - Yeah.

Anything on the gun?

A unit went back to the location where we found the truck -

no gun.

But I did get a match from the soil on the truck.

Zoysia sod.

It's gotten more use in Florida in the last 10 years.

Not as common as St. Augustine,

but it still doesn't narrow anything down yet.

Okay. What else we got?

I went through Tony's cellphone texts and pictures.

He and Lana had a really complicated relationship.

Wow. Racy.

Wow.

Is that a tattoo on her --

uh, yeah.

I would say that's definitely a tattoo.

It's a good tattoo.

Wow. Mm-hmm.

Yeah, and they definitely were more than teacher/student.

Uh, can we print out

all the photos that Lana sent Tony?

- Daniel? - What?

Uh yeah.

- Yeah. - Good.

I'd say from the sound of these texts,

that Lana and Tony not only could stand

the heat in the kitchen --

they were the heat.

Oh, don't mind me. I'm just...

Observing.

And what is she - like 35?

Huh.

Just another nurse

who suddenly decided she missed her calling?

Pathetic.

My fianc� was passed up for her,

- and he's 10 times more qualified. - Yeah.

I know how she really got into this program.

She's a friend of Dr. Avery's,

and I think we all know what kind of friend.

"I love the smell of your skin after a day in the kitchen.

"Sweat dripping down your chest.

It makes me crazy."

Excuse me.

That is a personal conversation.

"I want to tear off your clothes with my teeth."

Huh. Descriptive yet classy.

You know, sexting is all the rage with kids these days.

Yeah, one more thing for me to worry about.

I'm confiscating all of my daughters' phones tonight.

Excuse me.

- You have no right to read those. - Ah, ta, ta, ta, ta, ta, ta, ta.

Actually, I have every right. The law says so.

You ever thought about doing that with a spatula?

I'm never eating at one of these trucks again.

Enough already. Why are you doing this?

- Trying to solve a murder. - Then how about looking for the murderer?

Yep. Doing that.

Actually, these texts --

they go from professional to dirty to very dirty

to just plain angry.

You weren't happy that Tony called things off, were you?

I'll take that as a no.

When I first met Tony, he was so green, so raw.

But he had an amazing instinct and passion.

I saw a lot of talent in him.

I did everything to help him realize his potential.

I reinvented him, helped shape him into an artist.

So you must have been pretty pissed off when he didn't need you anymore.

I mean, the baby chick flies out of the nest,

and you tried to stop him.

Yeah, I was upset.

But not enough to kill him.

I loved Tony.

You know where he kept his gun?

Yeah, on his truck.

If he did, it's not there now.

But I'm guessing

Only way you could get the food truck ban passed

you got a pretty good idea where it is now.

I have no idea.

Do you wear these shoes to work every day?

Yeah.

I need to take them with me. Okay, everyone.

Red Koi is closed for the rest of the day.

You can't do this to me!

Some of these people have been waiting an hour!

Sorry.

You're killing me here!

- Carlos? - Yes?

Want to hurry it up? Natives are getting restless.

Can I talk to you?

I'm in the middle of something.

It'll just take a second.

Um, maybe if we could just go over here.

I just wanted to set some things straight.

My relationship with Dr. Avery is not now,

nor has it ever been, anything more than a friendship.

Sorry. I overheard.

And I'd appreciate it

if you didn't spread rumors about me.

Got it.

Wait, Miranda.

I'd really love the opportunity

for us to start over.

Fact is, you don't know anything about me

or what I've been through.

I've had to make all of my own opportunities

in this world.

And I've been dreaming about being a doctor

since I was 17 years old.

This is not a whim.

I'm beyond grateful for this program

and never meant to displace

your boyfriend or anyone else.

I deserve this chance.

I've been working my ass off to prove it.

And I really need your support.

Are you done?

Yep.

Portable chest X-ray to nurses' station 4.

Portable chest X-ray to nurses' station 4.

I had to shut her down.

Could let all that food go to waste.

So, you plan on sharing?

'Cause you still owe me lunch.

I hope you like short ribs --

the melt-in-your-mouth, fall-off-the-bone kind.

What?

What kind of wimp doesn't get hot sauce?

Uh, not me. I always get hot sauce.

I can't believe she forgot to give me hot sauce.

So, you know you're not making many friends

down at the boardwalk.

Been following Twitter feeds.

There's a hell of a lot of complaining

about some "dick detective

who won't quit bugging Chef Lana."

You don't think they'd ban me from the trucks?

I would.

You really believe that Lana could kill a man

'cause she was jilted.

Women tend to internalize feelings of rejection,

not act out violently.

- Not all women. - Oh, you speaking from experience?

It all depends on how intense the feelings were

between Tony and Lana.

And from the texts that I'm reading,

it was pretty intense,

which puts murder back on the menu.

So, passion.

That's your motive and new working theory?

In my experience,

passion is a very strong motive for murder.

Daniel pulled Tony's home phone records.

He called Greg Doucet at 3:57 A.M.

That's pretty early in the morning for city council business.

That's what I was thinking.

So I had Daniel go over the councilman's schedule

for the last week.

He went to a ribbon-cutting ceremony

for an Iraq war memorial the day before the murder.

Carlos took a sample

from the freshly planted sod from the grounds...

Matching the stuff we found at the truck.

Mm-hmm.

Substation be damned.

It's time to call the councilman to task.

Thank you.

So...

Enjoy your lunch, ladies.

It was touch-and-go there for a bit.

Excellent work.

Absolutely the right thing to do for the community. Congratulations.

- Thank you very much. - Thank you.

Did I hear right? The food-truck law passed.

It did.

300 feet away from the restaurants, huh?

That's right.

It's the first step in taking back the boardwalk.

Congratulations. That's a real boost to your career.

It was a well-earned victory.

Can I help you with anything else, detective?

You know what? Actually, yeah. There was one more thing.

Excuse me.

I noticed a photo of you

on the wall at caffe Russo

with what looked like a 9mm.

Yeah, that's a 9mm.

Huh.

Oh, do I need a warrant,

or can I just take the gun?

Yeah, I'll just take the gun.

Only way you could get the food truck ban passed

Is if you presented it as a public-safety issue.

That's exactly what it is.

Right. And what better way to prove your point

than, uh, a robbery/homicide on the boardwalk?

It proves that crime is on the rise and the trucks are to blame.

It was only a matter of time before something tragic like this happened.

Right, and you needed to speed up the tragedy to prove your case.

- What are you suggesting? - That you staged the murder as a robbery.

That's ridiculous. I have Tony's phone records.

Look. He called you at 4:00 A.M.

Oh, and I can place you inside the truck.

Yeah, you were at a ribbon-cutting ceremony

the day before the murder.

Well, the same sod from those grounds

was found inside Tony's truck.

Amazing. I got a politician to shut up.

And all it took was placing you at a murder scene.

Like I said, Tony and I were working on a plan --

a compromise that would make the entire district happy.

Couldn't wait until the sun came up?

We're not going anywhere

until you tell me what you were doing

in Tony's truck at 4:00 A.M. in the morning.

Something only two military men could understand.

I did not kill Tony Acosta.

And that's all I've got to say about it.

Oh, I think there might be one more thing

you're thinking of saying.

That you might want to call your lawyer?

I got those photos enlarged.

Lana took these?

All of them. Looks a little intimate.

Know who that is our victim is talking to?

Friendly owner of the neighborhood Italian place.

And I don't know what they're talking about,

but obviously Lana wasn't happy they were talking.

Yeah, what can I get you? All right, that's cool.

Excuse me.

Sorry. Coming through.

Hey.

No, look, relax. I'm not gonna shut down your truck.

I just want to have a little conversation.

All right? Maybe...

Here?

Thank you.

Oh, that's the guy who shut her down before.

Smile!

Jerk.

What, again?

So, I was sifting through your boudoir photos --

they were very tasteful, by the way --

and I found these stalkerazzi shots.

Obviously, you weren't taking "it's over" for an answer, huh?

Okay, I was upset.

But not enough to kill.

Your prot�g� was sleeping with the enemy.

And your made man was making time with the other side.

That had to piss you off.

So I'm not the kind of person

that gets over someone in a week -- big deal.

Doesn't make me guilty of anything.

Except jealousy, which often leads to murder.

I mean, come on, it couldn't have been easy

watching Tony and Vanessa's late-night, cozy dates.

I took those pictures in the morning.

Morning?

Tony would roll up for his breakfast shift,

stop by her place first to share an espresso.

Why would Vanessa be at her restaurant

so early in the morning?

To bake bread.

Caffe Russo's one and only claim to fame --

fresh-baked bread every morning.

It was the only thing that relic did right anymore.

Huh.

Don't worry.

I'm not closing any trucks.

So you can stop with your Twitter harassment.

Okay?

My stomach thanks you.

Be well.

Sounds like she was definitely on edge.

But I heard that chefs can be pretty temperamental.

Yeah, well, I know Tony was. Remember when I took you to eat at his truck?

He went defcon 5 on that guy that wanted yellow mustard?

You took me there? That doesn't ring a bell.

Come on. You remember.

We ate, then we went for a swim

like our parents always told us not to.

Actually, I remember a lot more bobbing up and down

than actually swimming.

Oh, I wish we were at the beach right now.

But we can relive that date this weekend.

You still good? Really?

Really?

What -- you don't want to?

What? No.

I mean, I just opened up this file

with the rest of the week's schedule.

And I guess having a conversation with Dr. Buckley

about setting the record straight

was a bad idea.

What happened?

I overheard her being all catty and gossipy

about me and how I got the job,

which apparently banished me

to the graveyard shift for the rest of the week.

Ouch. Is there anything you can do to make it up to her?

Buy her flowers, a new broom to commute to work?

Yeah, maybe I'll just throw a bucket of water on her

and she'll melt.

I should probably go.

She also has me doing

a year's worth of intake files at work,

which means that I have all this studying to do tonight,

and I'm already beat.

I'm sorry, Cal.

But, hey, my prediction?

End of the week, you'll have worn her down

just like you wore me down.

Just like I wore you down?

Yeah.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, it will all be fine.

Blah, blah, blah. Thank you.

I'll call you tomorrow?

Yeah. Good night.

Night.

Doucet's gun is a 9mm, but it's not our murder weapon.

Yeah, looks like it hasn't been fired

in a long time.

Everything all right?

Wha-- yeah.

Yeah.

I mean, Callie's having a hard time in Atlanta.

Medical school is brutal,

but she's a tough woman. She'll get through it.

Yeah. Yeah, I know.

So, Doucet's gun.

Not even military issue.

He bought it at a gun show in Orlando.

Is this his military file I asked you to pull?

It is. Even contacted Tony's former commanding officer.

Your suspicions were correct.

All that bloodshed that Doucet claimed he saw in Iraq?

He must have seen it on the news,

because Doucet was never there.

He lied, and our victim must have called him out on it.

Dead men tell no tales.

Obviously the merchants on the boardwalk are very pleased.

But I think the type of businesses that are gonna be attract--

Excuse me. Detective.

Detective.

I'm done speaking with you.

If you want to continue haraaessing me,

you can do so through my attorney.

Oh, you're definitely gonna need a lawyer,

but not for police harassment.

Maybe for fraud, murder.

You want to continue this attack?

I will sue you for defamation of character, slander, and libel.

- You threaten Tony, too? - Why would I do that?

Because he found out that you were lying

about being a marine.

You're a fake, Doucet.

And worst of all,

you lied about being a prisoner of war.

Impersonating a member of the military forces

is illegal.

So this picture of you in your surplus-store-bought uniform

is all the D.A. will need

to make sure you do about a year in raiford.

But for now, let's see if that includes

the rest of your life for murder.

Excuse us.

Like a lot of returning vets, Tony kept a lot bottled in.

But after he realized you'd based

your whole political career and future on a lie,

he couldn't keep that in.

The morning edition comes out at 4:00 A.M.

When Tony saw this picture of you,

that was more than he could take.

I mean, you at a war memorial,

getting your fake pats on the back

for all your fake service

with your fake politician's smile.

So he called you that morning,

said he was gonna expose you soon as the sun came up,

and you snapped.

I'm not proud of all the lies.

Yeah, but you kept the act going anyway.

Digging the hole deeper and deeper.

I mean, how could you lie about being a P.O.W.?

Such a slap in the face to all the people who served

and all the people who've died.

I needed to butter up a loan agent at a bank.

I came up with the lie, and it worked.

Since then, I just went with it.

People hear you're a veteran, they don't question it.

They just want to help you.

Yeah, but Tony didn't want any help, did he?

In fact, he was just looking for a bus big enough

to throw you and all your lies under.

I begged him not to tell anyone.

Whatever he wanted, I-I-I was willing to help.

But Tony didn't care.

He was gonna go viral with it.

So you took him out before he could take you out.

I swear to you, Tony was alive when I left his truck.

- I didn't kill him. - You had motive and opportunity.

Yes, but I don't have the guts to do something like that.

I don't have it in me to do something like that.

I swear to you, I don't.

I've never even shot a gun.

All I was trying to do was broker a peace

between the traditional restaurants and the food trucks

before something terrible happened.

All right. Sit tight, councilman.

Someone will be in soon to read you your rights

for impersonating a marine.

Oh, and, um,

thanks for all your help with the substation.

Here you go.

Thank you.

You're welcome. On the house.

Oh? Thank you.

Mmm. Oh, that's the real deal.

Oh, that's good.

You know, it's such a shame about places like this.

You know, fighting to keep up

with every new culinary trend that comes around.

The insurgence of the food trucks

and their colorful owners

and their grassroots ninja approach

to attracting customers.

Restaurant people aren't wimps, detective.

You go into it knowing the odds.

You put your heart and soul

and everything you have into it,

but you're still at the mercy of public opinion.

Then there's fighting city hall,

their never-ending health and building codes

just to stay in business.

I mean, those pipes that you had replaced --

I bet they worked just fine, didn't they?

Yeah.

Well, that's something

the food trucks don't have to deal with.

No. It's not.

Yeah, it just doesn't seem fair.

I can still smell the fresh-baked bread.

Ohh.

Yeah, you know, I get it.

I totally get why Tony liked coming here

in the morning before he opened his truck.

Just sat here with his coffee while his boar braised,

talking with you.

I mean, I can totally see why Lana thought

the two of you were having an affair, as well.

We weren't, detective.

No, I-I know.

I don't see it, either.

What with Tony's way of pissing people off

and take-no-prisoners attitude.

I mean, who wouldn't take that personally?

I told you Tony and I were making an effort.

Yeah, and as they say --

keep your friends close,

keep your enemies closer.

What was that?

Oh, and I forgot to give you something.

Whoa, what are you guys doing?

I-I just got that wall replaced.

Doucet was dragging his feet on the food-truck ban,

doing as politicians do.

You know, feeding the bricks-and-mortars one thing

and the food-truck owners

and their loyal Twitter fans another.

And with the vote in three days' time

and Tony hell-bent on defeating that ban,

well, then, when you turned up early

to bake bread that morning and you saw them talking?

Well, you probably thought that he was cooking up your demise --

and with it, the family legacy --

which is why I thought it was odd

you didn't tell me that you baked fresh bread here.

Every morning. I mean, it's the thing you love most.

It's the heart and soul of your restaurant.

Until I realized why you didn't tell me.

Because at 4:00 in the morning, when you bake that bread,

you definitely would've heard a gun go off.

Especially if you were the one holding it.

You needed that vote,

so you waited until Doucet left,

and then you did what he didn't have the balls to do --

shoot arrogant, rabble-rousing Tony,

clearing the impasse for Doucet

to get the food-truck ban passed

and allowing you to go back to doing what you do best --

baking bread for Agnes and Milton.

And with the city forcing you to replace these pipes,

that didn't actually need replacing,

you had the perfect place to hide the murder weapon --

Tony's own gun.

Mmm, mmm, mmm.

- Congratulations, detective. - Thank you.

But when you got suspects that are that passionate

about their food and the legacy they're trying to protect,

it's not that hard to figure out.

So it was a crime of passion after all.

When did you get onto the restaurant owner?

Oh, you know, somewhere along the line.

Fair enough.

I'll figure you out eventually.

I'm hungry.

Maybe if the trucks are still serving,

I can pay you back for the short ribs.

Can I get a rain check? I have dinner plans.

Dinner? At 4:00 in the afternoon.

It's a -- it's a pretty special dinner.

I found this truck on Twitter.

It's called Slap Yo' Mama.

Figured it had to be good.

You're obsessed.

Yeah. A little.

I cannot believe this.

I can't believe you're here.

Yeah, I'm a little surprised myself.

But when you told me how things were going

and that I wasn't gonna to see you this weekend

to make it all better, well, then, I had to come.

And bring me really-bad-for-me fried chicken.

You're a peach.

Well, it's Georgia.

Everything's a peach.

And mock me if you will,

but comfort food fixes everything.

Beer speaks for itself.

This is amazing.

You're amazing.

- So. - So what?

Let me have it. Let you have what?

Everything you've been dying to unload

but haven't had anyone to unload on.

Yeah?

I'm all ears.

Okay, Miranda is such a little bitch.

I mean, who does she think she is?

She's like 12 years old

and ordering me around, assigning me the shit jobs,

and all with this face

like I stole her boyfriend or something.

And, awesome -- this morning, I woke up to ants.

- Ants? - Yes. Ants. Everywhere.

I think they're coming in through the balcony.

But I did get rid of that weird fish smell

that was coming from the kitchen.

And I found this really great park

right by the apartment that we can run in.

Oh! And there's this bar near the apartment,

and it's got normal people in it.

It's not wall-to-wall yellow jacket mascots

and drunk 20-year-olds throwing up all over each other.

And did I mention

how awesome the graveyard shift is?

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