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“Yeah, that’s all of it. The guy at the store said it’s pretty simple. All we need to do is conceal the bugs where Charlene won’t find them, and they’ll start transmitting their signal immediately. He did say we’d have to stay pretty close to pick up the signal.”

“How close?”

“Within a hundred-foot radius.”

“Bummer,” said Vesta. “I don’t feel like staying awake twenty-four-seven to tail this woman until she gives up her many, many secrets.”

“Which is why we should involve Wilbur and Francis,” said Scarlett.

“No can do,” said Vesta. “We’ve already got the cats involved, and I don’t want Wilbur and Francis to know about my big secret.”

Vesta’s big secret was also her Achilles’ heel. No one was supposed to know she could talk to her cats, and so far only Charlene and Scarlett knew about it, apart from Vesta’s own family, of course.

“Why don’t you simply tell them?” Scarlett suggested. “It would make life a lot easier.”

“Yeah, tell Wilbur I can talk to cats. Before I finish telling him the whole town will know. You know what a gossip Wilbur Vickery is. The guy simply can’t keep a secret.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Scarlett admitted. It was one of their fellow watch member’s flaws. But also one of his strengths, since he was alwaysau courant with the latest gossip.

“Besides, I don’t want Charlene to know we’re onto her. So Wilbur is out for Operation Mongoose.”

“Operation Mongoose?” asked Scarlett with a laugh.

“It’s as good a name as any,” said Vesta with a shrug. “Now where do we go first?”

“Better start at the house,” Scarlett suggested. “Then once we’ve got that bugged, we can take care of her office.” How they were going to get access to the woman’s phone was beyond her, though. They were no professional spies, after all. But somehow she figured Vesta would find a way around that minor disadvantage. She always did. “Does Charlene have an alarm system?”

“Nope. Alec told me he’s been arguing with her to put one in and she turned him down flat. She says the moment she needs an alarm is the moment she’s failed as a mayor and he’s failed as chief of police. She still believes Hampton Cove is the kind of town where people should be able to leave their doors unlocked at all times.”

“I’d love for things to be that way,” said Scarlett wistfully.

“Me, too. Would make breaking in a lot easier for us.”

Chapter 10

I didn’t mind assisting Gran and Scarlett on their quest to figure out why Gran’s son was getting married to Charlene, but clearly she was laboring under a misapprehension that could very well impede the real investigation into Uncle Alec’s disappearance.

So now Dooley and I were faced with what is commonly termed a dilemma: should we or shouldn’t we tell these two what was really going on? Or follow Odelia’s instructions and keep her grandmother in the dark?

“I think we should tell her,” said Dooley. “She’s Uncle Alec’s mom. Mothers shouldn’t be kept in the dark about their sons being kidnapped. To do so is morally ambiguous.”

I smiled at my friend for using such a big word. I doubted whether he knew what it meant.“I think before we tell her we should probably ask Odelia. She clearly has her reasons and we don’t want to go against her wishes.”

Dooley made a face, showing me he was struggling with this as much as I was.

“And look at it this way: at least we’ll be right at the heart of the investigation if we’re going to be living with Charlene from now on.”

“But what if these bad men come back? I’m not built for close-quarters combat, Max.”

“Me, neither, Dooley,” I admitted. “None of us are. So let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“I just wish Odelia didn’t have to return Rambo to his owner,” said Dooley now.

Rambo was a sizable Bulldog and a retired police dog, and had been instrumental in keeping us safe in a previous adventure. Odelia had wanted to adopt him, but Rambo already had an owner, who wasn’t so keen to hand his aged dog over to someone else.

“If worse comes to worst, I’m sure Rambo’s owner won’t mind lending us his dog and his very particular skillset again,” I said.

But until then? We were on our own, with only our smarts, wit and resourcefulness to carry us through. And the knowledge that the neighborhood watch was watching, of course. Though I wasn’t exactly feeling reassured by that aspect of our mission.

Gran had pulled up outside Charlene Butterwick’s home, and let us out of the car. The Mayor of Hampton Cove lived in a nice little home, though frankly I’d expected her to live in some villa or mansion. Then again, civil servants probably don’t make the big bucks.

In front of her house plenty of flowers bloomed in a lovely little apron of green.

“Looks like your son’s new wife got a green thumb,” said Scarlett appreciatively.

“Mh,” said Gran, regarding the floral display with a critical eye. “Not enough perennials. Her garden will look terrible come wintertime.”