“He’s in big trouble,” the little guy sang, but personally, I was rather proud of Chance.

  “He’s risking all for the woman he loves,” I said. “The heck with Commissioner Dingle.”

  Truman scowled. “But he’s a policeman.”

  Dad helped me out and explained that cooperating with policemen is almost always the right course of action. “But that’s only in real life,” he added.

  The kid nodded. “Chance Dooley’s pretend.”

  ***

  “Can I ple-eease have my computer?” Truman asked five times during his bath.

  “Not in the tub,” I answered five times. I poured water over his head and changed the subject. “I visited your great grandma today,” I said.

  “She has All Timers. Can I have my computer?”

  “Alzheimer’s. Not in the tub.” I noticed the pout but continued anyway. “You’ve visited your great grandma at the Hilleville House, right?” I absentmindedly space-swept his tummy. “You were going there on Sunday?”

  “Nooo.” He pushed the space sweeper away. “I’m already washed.”

  Good point. I helped him out of the tub and toweled him off.

  “How about Paul?” I asked as he wiggled into his pajamas.“You never told me his last name.”

  “I told you it’s a secret.” He locked his lips and tossed the pretend key into the toilet.

  Charlie seemed interested, but I chose not to play fetch.

  ***

  “Where were you?” Dad asked the second I got downstairs.

  I took a seat and pointed to the ceiling. “Learning to play something or other on Truman’s computer. Charlie understood it better than I did.”

  Dad gave me one of his I’m your father looks. “I meant this afternoon. You weren’t in your office.”

  “You called?”

  “And as you know, you weren’t there. And as you know, your cell phone never works. So I tried Bambi.”

  I rocked forward. “What did she tell you?”

  “Nothing. She’s loyal to you.”

  I smiled at my mother’s painting of what we think is supposed to be dandelions.

  “Everyone and his brother wanted to talk to you today.” My annoying father stayed on topic. “Even Oden stopped by.”

  Oh, please. I reminded the old man that Oden Poquette is always stopping by. “He was looking for his goats, not me.”

  “He invited you and Truman over for milking time while he was here, but as you know, you weren’t here.” Dad raised an eyebrow. “Which is what I told Ms. Mauve.”

  While I mumbled a few colorful words, Bobby informed me that everyone’s favorite social worker had stopped by to discuss the bomb in the Spaceship Destiny.

  “Jason must have filled her in on the latest,” I said.

  “That’s right, and after she left here, she went over to Joe’s.”

  I probably sighed.

  “If you had been here, you could have stopped her, girl. I’d bet money you were off searching for this Paul person.”

  “Then you’d lose money.” I again pointed to the ceiling. “Since the child refuses to tell me Paul’s last name, it’s kind of impossible to find him.”

  “What about your other errands?”

  I decided my visit to Fanny’s was innocent enough and mentioned that. “You can hardly call it an errand at all.”

  “Excuse me?” Dad said. “You and Fanny have been in cahoots before. I don’t care if she is old and blind.”

  Neither did I. Fanny Baumgarten would make an excellent sidekick, whatever her age and infirmities.

  “What did you girls talk about?” Dad asked.

  “Tea parties,” I said. “She’s planning one for Sunday to welcome Truman to Lake Bess. You’re invited.”

  “I accept. What else?”

  I stared at my mother’s dandelions again. “We talked about parenthood.” I glanced back at my father. “Thank you, Dad.”

  “For what?”

  “For helping me with Truman, and for raising me single handedly.”

  He shrugged. “Your mother was with us until you were ten.”

  “But then what? You had to deal with me. At age fifteen, eighteen, twenty, thirty—” I waved a hand. “I wouldn’t have wanted your job.”

  “Are you kidding?” My father shook his head. “Look what I got, girl. No regrets.”

  I mumbled another thank you.

  “So?” he said. “Tell your long-suffering old man where you were this afternoon.”

  “Here and there.” I jumped up and headed for the coat closet. “But right now I should say hi to Joe.”

  “You should answer me. Did you have lunch with Captain Sterling?”

  “Maybe.”

  “He has a crush on you.”

  “Earth to Bobby Baxter.” I grabbed a jacket. “Jason Sterling is not the crush-type.”

  “You weren’t here when he searched this house.”

  “What!? What did he say?”

  “Well, he didn’t profess his undying love for you—”

  I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “But he did show an inordinate interest in your turret.”

  “My turret’s the best room in the house.”

  Dad paused for effect. “And in your bedroom.”

  I rolled my eyes, told the old man he drives me nuts, and closed the door behind me.

  ***

  “¬W¬here’s the wine?” I called up Joe’s stairs.

  The FN451z burped a greeting from above, and I slumped onto the couch, and eventually Joe came downstairs and put a glass in my hand.

  “She’s a little agitated tonight,” he said as he sat down.

  “Was Ms. Mauve agitated?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I hear she visited you today.”

  Joe grinned. “Are you jealous?”

  “Maybe, but right now I’m too tired to put up much of a stink.”

  “Darn.”

  I pointed up. “Did you introduce her to the FN?”

  “Are you jealous?”

  “I’ve already met the FN, thank you very much. And FYI, Ms. Mauve isn’t your type.”

  “She asked me out to lunch sometime.”

  I mumbled a colorful word.

  “I said no thanks.” Joe tapped my wine glass with his. “Unlike someone I know.”

  “Hello. My lunch dates with Jason are not dates. We’re coordinating our efforts is all.”

  “Is that what you call it?”

  “Jo-ooe!” I punched his arm. “I thought you weren’t jealous anymore.”

  He insisted he wasn’t, but evidently it hadn’t been much fun watching the two of us “cozy up” under the full moon the previous night. I reminded him Jason and I had been discussing a bomb—a literal, bomb.

  Joe cleared his throat and asked about my recent errands.

  “How come everyone knows I’ve been running errands?” I asked.

  “Logic,” he said. “We know you.”

  I shrugged and said that talking to Fanny had been my most pleasant errand, and driving past what was left of the Maple Street house was the least. I also mentioned my not so fun visit to the hospital, but did give a somewhat optimistic report on Ryan Webb. “Eleanor is handling it way better than Edward,” I concluded.

  Joe asked if either of the Webbs knew what their son was doing in the car, and I realized he had yet to hear about Paul Something or Other. I told him what little I knew about Paul, and also about on my little visit to the Hilleville House.

  “I heard all the latest news from Oz,” I said. “And then asked Mrs. Abernathy if she knew Paul the boyfriend’s last name.”

  “And?”

  “And I’m still calling him Something or Other.” I snarled. “She called Paul the Tin Man. Isn’t that usefu—”

  I sat up straight. “Holy moly!”

  “What?”

  “Maybe it is useful.” I stood up to pace. “Mrs. Abernathy point blank called Judy’s boyfriend the Tin Man!”

  “Ooo-kay.”

  I flapped my arms. “Don’t you remember Sunday night? Remember what Sarah told us? Who did Mrs. Abernathy call the Tin Man?”

  He blinked. “Cassie,” he said. “This takes cockamamie theories to a whole new level. Even for you.”

  “P-uh, p-uh,” I said. “I bet the P stands for Paul. Mr. Mystery Man Boyfriend has been bodyguarding Truman!”

  ***

  I stared at the moonlight coming through the window, I stared at Charlie, I stared at Notz. But most of all, I stared at Truman.

  The blue eyes opened. “Whatcha thinking about?” he asked.

  “About your mother’s boyfriend.” I sat down on the edge of the bed. “You really can’t tell me his last name, Truman?”

  “It’s a secret.”

  I glanced at Cosmic Cow and asked if she knew, but only got a “Moo” in response.

  I tried again with the child. “P.T.’s last name is Dent,” I said.

  “I know.”

  “He seems to know a lot about how to play with you. He caught on to your computer game right away.”

  “Can I have my computer now?”

  “No.” I took a deep breath. “P is for Paul. P-uh, p-uh.nDoes the P in P.T. stand for Paul?”

  Truman yawned. “P-uh, p-uh. P is for Prissy.”

  “That’s right.” I nodded.

  “P is for Princess Julia.”

  FYI, P is also for patience. When Truman told me P is for the Planet Plucket, I told him it was probably time to go back to sleep.

  Chapter 35

  It was definitely not time to wake up. But when my father and his entourage marched into my bedroom the next morning, I resigned myself to the inevitable, and the gang settled in for the usual update on Chance Dooley, Evadeen Deyo, and the commissioner. Usual being a relative term in the Baxter household.

  “Has everyone made it to Whoozit?” I asked.

  Dad shook his head. “Thus far, only Chance Dooley.”

  Truman reminded me Evadeen Deyo was stucket on Plucket, and my father reminded me that last we’d heard, Commissioner Dingle didn’t even know where our fugitives were headed.

  “I realize this Dingle dude isn’t the brightest star in the galaxy,” I said. “But surely he’s figured it out by now?”

  “He has.”

  The child’s eye got wide. “Is he chasing them, Grandpa Bobby?”

  “He is. He’s so angry he’s forgotten all about the notorious Bridget Brittle and the Stars Ajar smuggling operation.”

  I shook my head. “So instead he’s in hot pursuit of poor innocent Evadeen Deyo.”

  Dad agreed, but also warned that hot pursuit is a relative term. “The Celestial Intelligence Agency operates on a tight budget,” he said. “Forcing Dingle to rely on a Beta 9000 Rocket.”

  “Is it slow?” Truman asked.

  “Indeed. Don’t let the word rocket fool you.”

  “And Chance is fast!”

  Bobby nodded. “Therefore, Chance Dooley must sit tight and wait for the others to catch up with him on Whoozit.”

  I smiled at Truman. “Let’s just hope Evadeen gets there first.”

  “Chance might get lonely waiting,” he said, but I told the kid not to worry.

  I knew all about Whoozit from previous stories, so I knew exactly how Chance Dooley would while away the time. “He’s hanging out at the Whoozit Loozit drinking Boozit with his old pal Jack Cooter the Whooter scooter mechanic,” I said.

  Notz stopped kneading my ankles to stare aghast, but the little guy loved it. “Say it again!”

  I untied my tongue and repeated, and my father told me I might be a kid person after all.

  ***

  A kid person in need of coffee. I sipped and listened while Mr. Sci Fi Author and his newest fan kept at it during breakfast, discussing all the dire consequences the fugitives would face when Commissioner Dingle finally caught up.

  “Big trouble,” Truman predicted.

  “I shudder to think of it,” Dad agreed.

  “Well, think of it while Truman and I are at school.” I pointed to the kitchen clock and told the child we needed to get going.

  “But Grandpa Bobby needs my help.”

  “Later.” I stood up to clear the table. “You can help Grandpa Bobby this afternoon, during your own big adventure.”

  Dad looked up. “Where?”

  “To Whoozit?” Truman asked.

  “Whoozit’s pretend.” But I promised him Uncle Joe had something almost as exciting in mind. “Go brush your teeth.”

  The kid ran up the stairs, but my father wasn’t so easy to shake. “You and Joe are in cahoots about something,” he informed me while I loaded the dishwasher.

  “Be sure to move the booster seat from your car to Joe’s, okay?”

  “Not okay. You’re keeping us occupied while you go off, getting into who knows what trouble.

  I reminded the old man about the mandatory department meeting I had to endure every Friday afternoon. “No time for trouble today.”

  Dad frowned. “As you would say, yeah right.”

  ***

  The noise from the kiddie computer suddenly ceased.

  I glanced in the rearview mirror. “What’s up?”

  “I’m thinking about my momma.”

  Not that I ever hit warp speed on Elizabeth Circle, but let’s just say, I slowed way, way down. “Oh?” I asked.

  “Momma wasn’t like Evadeen Deyo.”

  “How was she different?” I asked, but by then the kid was back to his computer.

  I spoke up. “Evadeen’s heading to Whoozit,” I said. “Your mother wasn’t going to Whoozit on Sunday, was she?”

  “Whoozit’s pretend.”

  I tried again. “Paul is real.”

  “He’s like Evadeen.”

  I scowled at the rearview mirror. “How?”

  “Watch out!”

  Holy moly!

  I narrowly missed Ruby, and swerved to avoid Rose, and by that time, we were at the Lake School.

  I parked and twisted around. “Would you please turn that thing off?”

  He did.

  “How is Paul like Evadeen?” I asked.

  “It’s a secret.” He locked his lips, dropped the key into a pocket of the car seat, and got himself unbuckled.

  Chapter 36

  “Your phone was ringing off the hook yesterday,” Amy told me as I rounded her desk.

  She wasn’t kidding. Fifteen messages were flashing at me from my office phone. Somehow I knew none of them would be good news, but I hit play anyway. Two students asked about their midterm grades, three complained about their midterm grades, four begged for an extension on their midterm exams, and all of them scolded me for not checking my messages more often. Also in the mix were the three messages from my father, asking where I was and forbidding me to run errands.

  On the other hand, Molly Donahue left a message scolding me for not visiting.

  “Today,” I told the machine.

  What a shocker, Ms. Mauve’s two messages continued the unhappy with Cassie Baxter theme, although she did express concern about the bomb in the toy spaceship thing. “Maybe I’ll stop by your house.” She sounded more like she was talking to herself, than to me. “That’s what I’ll do,” she said. “I’ll stop by Lake Bess and talk to your neighbor.”

  “Why not invite him to lunch?” I asked. I jotted down the names of students I needed to contact, hit delete until I saw a zero, and made a call of my own.

  ***

  Sarah Bliss was her usual cordial self. “What do you want?” she asked.

  “I’m looking for a fugitive from the law named Paul,” I said. “Does that name sound familiar?”

  “I have an Uncle Paul. Does he count?’

  “Only if he’s a fugitive.” I told her to keep an open mind and reported what Truman had said.

  “There was. No boyfriend. How many times do I have to tell you?”

  “Truman disagrees.”

  “He’s five.”

  “Five and a half,” I said. “And he just told me Paul the boyfriend is like Evadeen Deyo.”

  “Who?”

  “Evadeen is on the lamb. Hitchhiking her way across the Hollow Galaxy, barely one step ahead of Commissioner Dingle, top dog at the CI—”

  “Miss. Looney. Tunes.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just check the records, okay? The sheriff does keep fugitive from the law records?”

  “So what if he does?” she asked. “Judy wouldn’t date a criminal.”

  “Just. Check.”

  She growled, told me she’d call if she found anything, and almost hung up.

  “Don’t hang up!”

  “What? What, what, what?”

  I braced myself. “Please tell P.T. we won’t need his services today, or over the weekend,” I said and launched into the plan Joe and I had devised to keep Truman out of P.T. Dent’s clutches. Okay, so I didn’t phrase it quite like that, but I did tell Sarah that Joe was taking my father and Truman shopping that afternoon. “It’s a male-bonding thing.”

  “Shopping?”

  “For techie stuff in Burlington,” I said—Burlington being Vermont’s answer to a big city. “To replace our stolen computers.” I stopped and scowled. “You do know our computers were stolen? You know our house almost got bombed?” I scowled some more. “Why haven’t you called me about this?”

  “Duh. We’ve been a little busy at the sheriff’s office.” But Sarah did change her tone and told me she was glad everyone was okay.

  I took a deep breath and kept listing all the reasons we did not need P.T. hanging around. “After the computer store, they’re heading to some kiddie science museum,” I said. “Then out for burgers, and Truman won’t be home much this weekend, either. I have all kinds of fun things planned—Oden Poquette’s farm, Fanny Baumgarten’s tea party—”

  “P.T. likes tea, and goats,” Sarah said. “You should let him hang out with you guys.”

  “Would you please just tell him no thanks?”

  “What’s your problem with P.T.?”

  I crossed my fingers. “P.T. sure is an interesting name,” I said casually. “I wonder what it stands for.”

  Sarah skipped a beat. “Not for Paul! Are you really that nuts?”

  “Maybe. What does the P stand for?”