Chapter 51
“It won’t feel the same without the Germinator,” said Scarlett. “Or Mercedes. And Pippy, of course.”
“I wonder what happened to the Germinator,” said Gran as she steered her car along the deserted streets of our sleeping town. “He was everywhere, and then all of a sudden he was gone.”
“Maybe he moved to a different part of the country?” Scarlett suggested. “I mean, there is crime to be fought everywhere, so maybe he felt he shouldn’t stick to Hampton Cove?”
“If that were so, we would have had reports of him arresting criminals in other places,” said Gran. “But we haven’t. So it looks like he’s gone underground.”
“Literally,” said Scarlett. “If Tex is to be believed, and the Germinator lives in a rodent hole in the ground.”
The two ladies shared a look and burst out laughing.
“No, I never bought that either,” said Gran. “Let’s face it. The guy had his run, and then he got bored with wearing that costume, so he dropped it.”
“He probably burned it,” said Scarlett. “So people will never know it was him.”
“Where are we going, Gran?” asked Dooley, not for the first time. “Are we going to stake out houses on the Billionaire Mile to make sure they aren’t being burgled?”
“No, Dooley, we’re not going anywhere near the Billionaire Mile,” said Gran.
She took a turn, and when I looked around, I thought I recognized the neighborhood. “Weren’t we here last night?” I asked.
“We’ll see soon enough,” said Brutus when Gran refused to confirm or deny.
She took another turn, and I recognized the street and the house she parked in front of.
“This is where Marva lives, isn’t it?” asked Dooley. “Are we going to check out her house again, Gran? But we already did yesterday, didn’t we?”
“Yeah, all we found were lots and lots of pictures of Chase wearing a pair of tiny shorts and a gallon of oil and nothing else,” said Harriet. “And also Turbo Heartthrob merch.”
“Let’s just settle in,” Gran suggested, “and make sure we keep our eyes peeled.”
And so we did as she suggested, making sure we kept a close eye on the house. It wasn’t hard, as it was the only one on the block that still had its lights on.
It wasn’t long before a lone figure emerged from the house, climbed onto a motorbike parked outside, and took off.
It was difficult to ascertain who the person was, since he or she was clad in a black leather jacket and black leather pants and sported a motorcycle helmet on their head, but I was fairly sure this was Marva herself.
“Okay, here we go,” said Gran, and started the car.
Or she would have started the car if the engine had decided to tick over.
Instead, it made a sort of sputtering sound, and the more it did, the farther Marva was getting away, and the more Gran was uttering oaths and curses that didn’t sound all that fit for young ears like Dooley’s—or even ours.
“Piece of crap!” she shouted, and that was probably the most sanitary of her remarks.
“She’s getting away, Vesta!” Scarlett cried.
“Don’t you think I know that!” Gran yelled.
“We need to get going!”
“Oh, for crying out loud!” Gran said and suddenly got out of the car. With a sort of wild-eyed look, she surveyed the different cars parked on the block, then picked the biggest and shiniest one of the lot and headed over.
What she did next, I will never forget: she picked up a rock that had been used to line a nice flower bed in one of the well-maintained front yards and heaved it through the window of the nice car!
“Gran has lost her mind,” Dooley commented.
“Vesta, what are you doing!” Scarlett yelled as she also got out of the car.
The four of us followed suit and watched as Gran got into the car and started fiddling around inside.
“Well, get in!” she yelled.
The car hadn’t responded well to Gran chucking that brick through its window, for it started bellowing out a loud, complaining woo-woo sound, its lights flashing irritably. I guess no car likes to be handled with such a stunning lack of respect and delicacy.
As we all climbed onto the back seat of the car and Scarlett got in in front, Gran finally managed to get the car to give up its lack of action and to get the engine running.
“And here we go!” she cried as she gripped the steering wheel.
The car was one of those Range Rovers, and since Gran is not a tall lady, it was a little hard for her to see. But that didn’t stop her from pulling out of the parking space and commencing the hot pursuit of Marva, who by now had a significant head start.
A couple had come out of the house the nice car had been parked in front of and were shaking their fists and yelling something as we zoomed past. It didn’t sound all that encouraging, and I got the impression their next course of action would be to call the police and accuse Gran of stealing their car.
At least we were mobile again, as the worst thing that can happen to a Neighborhood Watch is to be without a good pair of wheels.
“We need to catch up with her,” said Gran.
“You just stole a car, Vesta,” said Scarlett. “I can’t believe that you just stole a car!”
“I didn’t steal anything. I commandeered a vehicle, just like any law-enforcement person would. We will give it back,” she assured her friend. “Once we have done what we set out to do.”
“They will arrest us! Again!”
“No, they won’t. Not if we explain what it is we’re trying to accomplish here. And besides, if Alec had given us one of his cars, like I asked, this wouldn’t have happened.”
In a sense, I had to say that she had a point there.
“There she is!” said Gran as she pointed to the motorcycle zooming along in front of us.
“Slow down,” said Scarlett. “And turn off the lights.”
“If only I could find the button that does that,” Gran grumbled. Instead, she found the button that switched on the overhead lights, and the person in front of us looked over her shoulder, no doubt wondering what was going on.
“Slow down!” Scarlett cried. “And get rid of the lights!”
“I’m trying!” said Gran. “Cut me some slack, will you? I’m improvising.”
“As usual,” Scarlett said.
Then the two ladies shared a look and giggled. Looked like they were having the time of their lives.
Meanwhile, the four of us were in the back seat, not having the time of our lives.
It was cold, since Gran smashing that window had caused the cold night air to stream over us. And there was glass on the back seat, which wasn’t very nice either.
But at least Gran managed to stay in control of the car and not crash into any solid objects. She also slowed the car and turned off the lights so we were less conspicuous.
“Where is she going?” asked Scarlett.
“I have a pretty good idea,” said Gran. “Isn’t that right, Max?”
“Yeah, I have a pretty good idea, too,” I confessed.
“Where is she going, Max?” asked Dooley.
“We’ll see soon enough, buddy,” I said, not wanting to give away too much. Just in case I was wrong, which happens more frequently than you might imagine.
Before long, the neighborhood looked awfully familiar, and when Marva turned into Harrington Street, we knew exactly where she was going.
“She is going to pay a visit to Chase,” said Dooley. “She is having an affair with Chase!”
“Not exactly,” I said.
Instead of driving directly to the house, Marva stopped a few houses away, pushed her motorcycle off the road, and proceeded on foot. As Gran pulled to a stop, we watched the policewoman head to the house, and then… she was gone!
“Where is she?” asked Scarlett. “She was there one moment, and now she’s not!”
“Probably moving along the backyards,” said Gran. “That’s what I would do.” She opened her car door. “Let’s go.”
We all hurried after Marva, hoping that it wasn’t too late.
“This hasn’t really gone the way I thought it would go,” Gran confessed. “For one thing, there should have been more people. We should have asked Francis and Wilbur to join us.”
“Too late for regrets now, Vesta,” said Scarlett. “And besides, we have the cats.”
“The cats won’t stop a bullet, honey.”
“A bullet! Nobody said anything about a bullet!” Scarlett said.
“Shhhhh! Do you want to wake up the entire neighborhood?”
We had been sneaking through those backyards, going from one to the next, and it was at this point that we had arrived in Ted and Marcie’s backyard.
We could see Marva sneak through the little gate that connects the Trappers’ backyard to that belonging to the Pooles, and we hurried after her, making sure not to be seen or heard by our quarry.
“Where is she going?” asked Dooley.
“She is going to a secret tryst with Chase,” said Harriet. “To meet for kissy-kissy.”
“Oh, dear,” said Brutus. “Odelia is not going to like this.”
As we snuck after Marva, instead of going to the house of Odelia and Chase, she glanced up at the house where Marge and Tex live, and as she headed for the door, we did the same.
“She is going to put the door on fire, isn’t she, Max?” asked Dooley.
“No, that was Odelia’s boyfriend, remember?” said Brutus. “That Zeke Hunkoff guy.”
“Or maybe she’s going to convince Marge and Tex to consent to Odelia getting a divorce so she can marry Chase?” Brutus suggested.
We were inside the house, with Marva sneaking up the stairs and the six of us moving after her at a short distance.
Once upstairs, Marva opened the door of Tex and Marge’s bedroom, and as we stealthily moved after her, suddenly I saw it: the policewoman had taken a gun from her pocket and was screwing a silencer onto the gun.
The next moment, she was aiming the gun at the bed, at the side where Marge usually sleeps, and pulled the trigger.