Finding a table proved to be a challenge, but with her eagle eye, Marge spotted one in the corner. She and Oliver sat down and perused the drink and food menu. Eventually they ordered a hummus plate and a couple of club sodas from a cocktail waitress named Yvette. She had blue eyes and shoulder-length platinum hair with long legs and a pneumatic chest. Her head looked very small in proportion to her body, reminding Oliver of a blowup doll.

She placed napkins on the table. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

Oliver asked, “Do you know when Crystal is due in?”

“Crystal?” As if the name momentarily stumped her.

“Crystal Larabee,” Marge clarified. “She works here as a cocktail waitress.”

“She took a few days off.”

“Because her friend was murdered,” Oliver stated.

Yvette nodded. “She was pretty upset. I mean, who wouldn’t be?”

Oliver took out his badge. “We’re investigating the homicide. Could we talk to you for a few minutes?”

“Um…I’m kinda busy. Let me take care of my business. I’ll come back.”

“Thank you.” Marge turned to Oliver. “Mandy takes a few days off, Crystal takes a few days off…coincidence, I ask?”

“Everyone’s entitled to a vacation.”

“Call up Crystal’s cell. Let’s get a location on her.”

He dialed the number and hung up after ten rings. “No answer.”

“Again, I state: Mandy is not home, Crystal is not home.”

“Want to take a ride over to Crystal’s apartment?”

“I think we should,” Marge said. “I’m getting a bad feeling about this, Scott, especially since Garth is missing.”

“Like the Loo said, they have a right to go out to dinner.”

“So you think it’s nothing?”

“I don’t think, therefore I am.”

Yvette, the small-headed waitress, returned with the sodas and the hummus plate. In addition to the chickpea spread, it came with olives, onions, pickles, tomatoes, and a plate of grilled pita. Marge suddenly remembered that she was hungry. “This looks good. Can we get another one of them?”

“Certainly.”

“But first have a seat,” Oliver told her.

“Only for a minute,” Yvette said. “Really, I can’t tell you anything because I don’t know anything.”

“How about we start with the basics?” Oliver said. “We know that Adrianna was in Garage the night before she was murdered.”

“That would be Sunday night,” Marge specified.

“I know that,” Yvette said. “I was here, too. Weird.”

“Weird in what way?” Oliver asked.

“You see a person and then she’s gone.” Her eyes misted. “Crystal was comping her drinks. I told her not to, that the boss would get mad if he found out, but she did it anyway.”

“Was Adrianna drinking?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Hard stuff?”

Yvette thought a moment. “I don’t know. Why?”