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“I, um, was at the station interrogating Wolf Langdon, ma’am,” said Chase. At least he didn’t avert his eyes like Alec, who’d gone all weaselly under Gran’s furious glances.

“Well, you better interrogate him again, cause as far as I’m concerned, he’s probably the leader of a gang of yellow parka men, operating all across town, and trying to get this family to die!”

She stalked off, feeling she’d said her piece and now it was up to the law enforcement people to do their jobs for a change.

Marge and Tex were seated in the waiting area, Marge nursing a cup of coffee, while Tex was checking something on his phone.

“My patients will need a replacement doctor while I’m in here,” he explained when Gran sat down. “I’ve arranged for Dr. R?bler-Koss to take my place for the moment.”

“R?bler-Koss? Isn’t she specialized in palliative care?”

He shrugged.“She’s a perfectly capable physician and she’s stood in for me before.” He placed the phone in his lap and rubbed his eyes. “Poor Odelia. I can’t stop thinking about how if we’d been there half an hour later she might have suffered even worse.”

“I just told off Alec and Chase. It doesn’t do for them to twiddle their thumbs down at the police station while all of us are being hunted down by this bunch of maniacs!”

“Bunch of maniacs?” asked Marge. “You think there’s more than one?”

“Of course! Just think, honey. He was in the house across the street when Tex was attacked with a highly lethal projectile.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call a flowerpot a lethal projectile,” Tex protested.

“I would. Now shut up and listen to your mother-in-law for a change. Meanwhile, he was preparing a trap across the street. How is that possible? How can one man be in two places at the same time? Answer: he can’t. Which means there’s more than one attacker.” She narrowed her eyes. “And the more I think about this, the more I’m convinced there’s probably three or four, and that doesn’t even include the ringleader, who’s in prison right now. Though ringleader is probably a big word. If he allowed himself to be caught that easily, he’s probably an amateur. The ringleader is probably the one who came for Odelia.”

“It was a rug, Mom,” said Marge. “Anyone can trip over a rug.”

“Not Odelia,” she said decidedly. “Odelia never trips over any rugs. No, that rug was definitely tampered with. So what we need is CSI. We need Gil Grissom and we need him now. Only Gil Grissom can figure out how they managed to tamper with that rug. Plus, Gil Grissom can probably lift fingerprints and DNA and whatnot from that rug, identifying the bastard who tried to kill our Odelia.”

“I don’t think even Gil Grissom could find fingerprints on an IKEA rug,” said Tex, and Gran thought she detected a note of sarcasm in his voice.

She did not respond well to sarcasm, so she snapped,“Less lip from you, and more cooperation, Captain Underpants.”

Tex frowned, and glanced down to where Gran was pointedly looking. Indeed: his underpants were showing just above the waistline of his beige slacks.“Must have snapped my belt when I jumped away from that flowerpot,” he muttered, hoisting up his pants.

“Don’t you think you’re exaggerating, Mom?” asked Marge. “I’m not even sure a roller skate is a real murder weapon. Or a flowerpot for that matter.”

“They are, and you better get with the program, missy. This gang uses everyday objects as murder weapons. They’re like the MacGyver of killers. Besides, you just had a pirate boat drop on your head. Or do you think a sawn-off mast isn’t a murder weapon either?”

She had Marge there.“Yes, that is odd,” she admitted. “But who would do this? Who would target us?”

“I don’t know but I’m going to find out,” said Gran, darting nasty glances at Chase and Alec as they strolled into the waiting room. “Cause it’s obvious to me that those two humpty dumpties would rather let us die than pull their heads out of their asses and lift a finger.”

Just then, the doctor in charge of Odelia’s recovery strode in. Dressed in his white coat, he looked particularly handsome, Gran thought. He was one of those hot young doctors you only see on medical shows, and she instantly took a shine to him. Though she knew from experience handsome young doctors were all hiding secrets. Like an eviltwin. Or a fraudulent degree from a fake university. Or even a third nipple in a really weird place.

“Good news,” said the handsome young doctor as he addressed his audience. “Odelia will make a full recovery. We found nothing alarming on the MRI scan and there’s no swelling of the brain, no contusion, nothing to indicate any lasting damage. I would like to keep her overnight just to make sure, but apart from that, I’m positive she’ll be just fine.”

“Oh, thank God,” said Marge, bringing her hands to her face. Tears were falling like dewy rain, and Gran didn’t wonder. She herself had experienced a twinge of dread when she saw her beloved granddaughter in such a terrible state.