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“Oh, that’s so sweet,” said Opal smoothly. “But you know who should be your greatest hero? You, my darling! Yes, you!”

Marge grinned like a bashful teenager, her cheeks flushed.

“And you, too,” said Opal, pointing to Tex. “Who are you, by the way?”

“This is my husband Tex,” said Marge, feeling compelled to make the introductions as Tex seemed to have lost the capacity for speech. “Odelia’s dad. And this is my brother Alec. And that’s Chase, Odelia’s boyfriend. They’re policemen, here for a conference.”

Opal’s face darkened, and the smile vanished, just as overhead the sun suddenly plunged behind a cloud. “I hope you didn’t tell them,” she said, addressing Odelia.

“I couldn’t tell them anything as I don’t know anything,” said Odelia. “Why did you send for me, exactly?”

“In the car,” said Opal, her eyes turning shifty as she took in her surroundings.

Dooley glanced around, and so did I, but as far as I could tell, apart from the present company, there was no one else around.

“The cops ride in the other limo,” said Opal, and her tone brooked no contest, so Chase and Uncle Alec dutifully got into the second limo. “You’re with me,” said Opal, and disappeared into the first limo.

“I guess… we’ll ride with you?” said Marge.

“No, you heard the lady,” said Gran. “Cops in the second limo.”

“But… I’m not a cop,” said Marge.

“You’re a cop’s sister, which is just as bad. Now scoot!”

And Marge being Marge, she scooted, along with Tex, and joined her brother and Chase in the second limo.

Gran, meanwhile, had already disappeared into the first limo. She might be a cop’s mother but wasn’t going to let the chance of riding in a limo with Opal pass her by. And as we all hopped in, I saw she’d taken a seat right next to Opal, her new best friend.

Hank, whom everyone seemed to have forgotten about, filed in next to Gran, and Odelia and the rest of us all took a seat across from the threesome. The door was slammed shut by an unseen hand, presumably belonging to the driver, and then the car was easing into motion, driving so quietly it was almost as if we were flying across the tarmac.

“So what’s this all about?” asked Gran, wasting no time.

Opal’s face had taken on an expression of concern, and she now pressed a button, causing the partition that divided us from the driver to travel down, blocking whoever was on the other side from seeing us—or hearing us, I imagined. Mysterious!

Opal fixed Odelia with a grave look.“I’m under attack,” she said finally in a deep voice. “And I want you to find out who’s behind it.”

“Under attack?” asked Odelia, immediately concerned. “What do you mean?”

“Someone is trying to kill me, Odelia. My car was sabotaged just last week, and my coffee spiked with poison only yesterday.”

“Spiked with poison?” asked Gran. “So how come you’re still alive?”

“Because I immediately tasted something was wrong—I have a very sophisticated palate—and I had it sent to the lab for testing. Cyanide. In my morning coffee!”

“My God,” said Odelia.

“So why don’t you go to the cops?” asked Gran, having adopted the persona of the hard-nosed reporter asking all the tough questions.

“Because if word gets out that I’m being targeted, my investors will get spooked, my staff will freak out, and my stars will get rattled and run to the competition.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m one of your biggest fans,” said Gran, “and if I were to star on one of your shows I’d rally round and do whatever I could to track this miscreant down.”

Opal smiled.“Thanks…”

“Vesta. And this is Hank. Say hi to Opal, Hank.”

“Hi, Opal,” said Hank, and gave her a little wave.

“The thing is,” said Opal, folding her hands in her lap, “that I’m currently going through a business overhaul. I’m actively looking to expand my business and I need new investors to accomplish that, as well as the trust and support of my old and most loyal investors. If word got out about these assassination attempts, they might get cold feet and pull out. Investors don’t like trouble. And they sure as hell won’t like it if the person personifying the brand is in any danger. If I die, the company could go under, and under these circumstances they’ll never invest, which could mean that the company will fold.”

“I thought you were, like, super-rich?” said Gran. “Can’t you invest your own money?”

“I’m rich on paper—most of my capital is invested in my company. Oh, sure, I have some real estate, and if I sell I could raise more money. But the same principle applies: as soon as I start selling property, the investors will smell trouble and pull the plug.”

“So you’re in dire straits, huh?” said Gran. “Look, if you need money, I could lend you some. How much do you need?” She was already grabbing for her purse.

“How about ten million?” said Opal.

Gran gulped.“Are you nuts?”

“Yeah, that’s what Harlan told me.”

“Harlan…” said Odelia.

“Opal’s boyfriend,” said Gran. “Don’t you know anything?”