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But Vesta, who didn’t want to get caught any more than Scarlett, eased up on the accelerator and soon was following the other woman at a more sedate pace, through the quiet streets of Hampton Cove, and suddenly she said, “I know where she’s going!”

Scarlett opened her eyes again.“The cops? To report she’s being followed by a crazy old lady?”

“Who are you calling old, you dinosaur?”

“So where is she going, smart-ass?”

“Her brother’s house!” And lo and behold: Marcia pulled her car to a stop right in front of Quintin Gardner’s house and soon was getting out, glancing left and right as she did, then crossing the street.

Vesta, who’d had the sense to park far enough so as not to be conspicuous, said, “Let’s go!”

“Let’s go where?!”

“Let’s go snoop!”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” muttered Scarlett, and both women got out and hurried over to the house of their target, keeping low and hunched over like they’d seen a million times in cop shows and the movies.

“What are you going to do? Ring the bell and ask what the hell she’s doing there?”

“Don’t be silly. We’re going to do this the old-fashioned way: we’re going to put our ears to the window and eavesdrop!”

And as she tripped up to the house, Scarlett saw what her friend meant: they could conveniently hide out in front of the house, and peek in through the window.

Marcia had disappeared inside, and the lights had come on in one of the front rooms, where presumably brother and sister were now gathered for their midnight meeting.

Both women emerged from the bushes, synchronized like a pair of Esther Williamses rising from the pool, and glanced in through the window.

And sure enough: inside they could see Quintin Gardner, his back to them, and Marcia Gardner, who was pacing the floor while she talked a mile a minute.

“I can’t hear what they’re saying,” Scarlett lamented.

“We should have those listening devices,” said Vesta. “I think they sell them online. Like suction cups. You put them against the window and you can hear everything as if you’re in the room.”

She put her ear to the window, pretending for a moment it was just such a suction cup, and listened intently, then shook her head.“Nah. I got nothing.”

Scarlett now attempted the same but likewise had to admit defeat.“Double glazing,” she said. “Whoever invented double glazing must have been a moron.”

And as she raised her eyes to the glass once more, suddenly she saw that Marcia was staring straight at her!

She immediately ducked down, but too late. Moments later the window was yanked open and Marcia appeared.“Hey, you!” she said. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Walking my dog?” Scarlett tried, and glanced down at her friend, who gave Marcia a sheepish grin.

Chapter 37

Alec Lip, who’d been sleeping peacefully and spooning with his one true love, was rudely awakened from the wonderful dream he’d been having by an insistent ringtone.

“What the…” he muttered, a little disoriented as he groped for his phone.

“Who is it?” asked Charlene next to him.

“No idea,” he murmured as he grabbed the phone and looked. Then, cursing under his breath, he picked up. “Dolores? You know what time it is?”

“Oh, I know what time it is, Chief, but does your mother know?”

The Chief frowned. Dolores’s words vaguely reminded him of a song he’d once heard, then he said, “What are you talking about?”

“Your mother was just arrested, Chief. So I figured I’d better give you a call.”

He closed his eyes again.“Oh, God.”

“No, still Dolores,” said Dolores with a hoarse chuckle. “And next time Vesta decides to go snooping around in the middle of the night I’m just going to tell the duty officer to lock her up and throw away the key. This is the second night in a row, Chief. What is she playing at?”

Alec knew exactly what his mother was playing. Neighborhood watch. Though now it looked as if she was playing midnight watch instead.“Where?” he asked curtly.

“Quintin Gardner’s place. You want the address?”

“I know where it is,” he grunted. “Be there in five.”

“Your mother again?” asked Charlene, who’d heard snatches of the conversation, as Dolores was just about the loudest dispatcher on record, especially when she was obliged to do the night shift, which she hated and which made her even crankier than usual.

He nodded and swung his feet from the bed, then rubbed his eyes.

“Want me to come?”

“No, you go back to sleep, honey. It’s my mother—my burden to carry.”

Charlene smiled and placed a comforting hand on his back.“I’m sorry. She is a handful, isn’t she?”

“A handful? More like a truckful.”

When he arrived at the scene, it was almost as if he was experiencing d?j?-vu from the night before: there they were, Vesta and Scarlett, seated in the back of the squad car, the irate homeowner who’d called the cops arguing loudly with the arresting officer.

And when he arrived, of course Quintin Gardner turned to him to repeat his lament.