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“I like your ideas,” said Dooley. “I think they’re great. And how boring would life be if you weren’t around to lend it some color and some fun?”

Gran smiled at these words and stroked Dooley’s fur. “Sweet, sweet Dooley. What would I do without you guys?”

“I think Dooley is right,” I said. “You’re the heart of this family, Gran. You’re its center. You’re the glue that keeps the whole thing together.”

“That’s very kind of you to say, Max, but you know that’s not true. I’m the fool. The court jester. Someone to make people laugh. The only reason they tolerate me is because I’m old and they can’t get rid of me that easy.”

“Everybody loves you, Gran,” I said. “You’re a real hoot.”

“A real hoot,” she repeated. “Yeah, that wasn’t exactly my goal in life.” She’d switched the channel again, and now a reporter was launching into some diatribe about Tessa. He was behind a desk and looked very serious and very angry. I sat up a little straighter when I recognized him. It was that same reporter again. The one who’d chased us up that tree that afternoon.

“Nasty piece of journalist,” said Gran, shaking her head.

“He’s not really a journalist,” said Dooley. “He’s a hatemonger and a troublemaker. At least that’s what Dante said.”

Gran smiled.“Hatemonger. That’s a big word for you, Dooley.”

“Thanks, Gran.” He grinned, happy with the compliment.

I was listening intently to the reporter. His voice sounded familiar, though I couldn’t place it. Of course I’d heard him before, so that was probably it.

Next to Gran, a phone started singing out a tune. She frowned and picked it up.“The Duchess of Essex’s phone. Who dis?”

When the voice on the other end replied something, her brow unfurrowed and shot into her curly white fringe. She sat up with a jerk.

“Your Royal Highness!” she cried.

“It’s the Queen!” said Dooley.

“No, Tessa’s gone to bed. Dante, too. The corgis? What about the corgis?”

She messed with the phone for a moment, and then suddenly we could both hear and see the Queen. Apparently she was using an app.

“Oh, Vesta. I’m so glad it’s you,” said the Queen. “I felt ever so silly calling Tessa, but I didn’t know who else to call. But I’m so happy you picked up. I’m not sure she would have understood. It’s the corgis, you see. They’ve been acting up. I think they saw something on thetelly just now and they’re suddenly all excited and yapping up a storm!”

“Put them on,” said Gran firmly.

“Put them—what do you—”

“Trust me—just put them on,” repeated Gran.

The corgis came into view, all three of them, seated on the couch, just like we were, and yapping excitedly when they caught sight of us.

“It’s the guy!” said Sweetie.

“What guy?” I asked.

“The kidnapper!”

“They’re saying it’s the guy,” I told Gran.

“Can you direct the camera at the TV, Your Majesty?” asked Gran.

“Oh, do call me Lizzie, please.”

“Show us what’s on TV, Lizzie.”

“Will do,” said Lizzie. She directed the camera at the TV and there he was: Otis Robbins. The reporter who was also on our TV, lamenting the sad state of affairs when an American was allowed to marry into the British royal family.

“He’s the one who gave the kidnap order?” I asked.

“Yes, yes, yes!” cried Sweetie. “How many times do I have to repeat myself?”

“I would recognize that guy everywhere,” said Molly.

“But you said he was blond,” I said.

“Well, he is,” said Sweetie. “Sort of.”

“He’s dark-haired,” said Fr?ulein decidedly. “With gray streaks. Just as I said.”

“Oh, why do you always have to be right?” Molly grumbled.

“Because I am?”

“Gran, he’s the one,” I said. “He’s the one who had us kidnapped. And I’ll bet he’s also the one who’s been trying to kill Tessa.”

“But he wasn’t anywhere near the house when that poisoned tea was served,” said Gran.

“So he must be working with someone on the inside,” I said. “That’s why he was hanging around the cottage. He was meeting his associate.”

“Suzy,” said Gran.

And that’s when we heard a noise.

“What was that?” asked the Queen, visibly perturbed.

“I don’t know,” said Gran. “It came from your grandson’s room.”

“Can you please check? I’ve been worried sick about those two. I know they haven’t told me everything, and I can’t help feeling something is going on.”

“You’re right,” said Gran. “Someone’s been trying to kill Tessa.”

“I knew it!” said the Queen. “Vesta, you have to stop them!”

“Oh, don’t worry, Lizzie, I will,” said Gran as she rushed to the door of Dante and Tessa’s room.

She burst inside, followed by Dooley and me. The sight that met our eyes was shocking to say the least: Tessa’s cousin Nesbit was aiming a gun at Tessa, while Dante stood in a corner of the room, his hands behind his head.

Chapter 34

“Come on in,” said Nesbit, turning the gun to cover Gran now.

“Oh, dear,” I could hear the Queen say. Nesbit hadn’t heard, though.

Gran held up her hands, aiming the phone at Nesbit, so the Queen had a first-row seat to the proceedings. Dooley and I were on the floor, and I don’t think the security man even noticed us. Isn’t that often the case, though?