Stephanie's Point of View

Joe was still sleeping when I crawled out of bed at 7:30 to answer my cell phone.

"Stephanie, are you up yet?" It was Grandma.

"I am now. What's up?" I yawned, putting on a robe and looking around for Bob's leash.

"Your dad was out late last night looking for Choochie," she said.

My heart stuttered in my chest. "What?" I was wide awake now. Bob was dancing around, eager to get out. I tried to get the clip on his collar but my hands were starting to shake. "What happened? Is he okay?"

"Sure, everything's fine. He discovered some dead bodies, though, in that old pipe factory down on Stark."

"What?" I nearly dropped the phone. I gave up trying to get Bob on the leash and paid attention to Grandma.

"Yeah. Looks like Choochie didn't just kill Sy Bernstein. First he shot up Ryan Perin like he was a tin target in a shooting gallery. Sy hired a couple goons to kill Choochie, but he found out, shot them too, and stuffed them in the trunk of his car. They weren't dead though."

Bob started barking and tugging on the hem of my robe.

Grandma was still talking. "Then they ended up getting hung up and tortured at the pipe factory. Choochie was trying to get Jack O'Brien to give up the pass code to his ill-gotten booty. I guess Jack was stark raving mad by that time. Boy, I wish Carl and I had been there. I'll bet it was exciting."

I'd been there and done that before, and exciting wasn't the word that came to mind. Nausea pretty much summed it up for me.

Bob was pushing the backs of my knees with is cold dog nose, trying to get me to the door. He really couldn't wait any longer. "All right!," I yelled at Bob. I opened the front door and just let him out. He rushed out the door. I was shutting it when I heard a big splash.

"What was that?" Grandma asked.

I stood in the doorway, looking at Bob paddling to shore. I had forgotten that we weren't anchored at the marina. Crap.

"Bob just went for a swim," I told her, exasperated.

"Carl and I are going down to McDonald's to have breakfast. We're meeting up with Sol Kleinschmidt, Myron Landowsky, Opal Karwatt and Erma Bestler. They were there with your dad at the pipe factory," she continued. "I'm going to get the whole scoop, right from the source."

"I thought you got the whole scoop from dad," I said.

"Nah. What I got came from your mother, and you know what a filter she's got between her ears. I want the unvarnished truth," Grandma insisted.

"Do you need a ride to the funeral?" I asked.

"No, Carl will take me. We'll see you there."

"Okay, I'll see you there," I said, disconnecting.

I felt the houseboat shift a little, and there was a scratching at the front door. I opened it, and Bob rushed in and shook river water all over. Perfect. Just perfect. I wiped the dirty water from my face with my sleeve, and looked up just in time to see Joe standing in the doorway to the bedroom.

He spit some river water out of his mouth and ran his hands through his wet hair. "What in the hell is going on around here?" he growled. The pain meds must have been wearing off.

"Bob had to go out," I explained.

"Out where?" he asked, eyeing the leash in my hand.

I just shrugged. He shook his head and shuffled towards the bathroom. I got a towel and tried to dry Bob, then let him out on the back deck to dry while he ate his breakfast.

I started coffee and made some toast. Minutes later, Joe shuffled back towards the bedroom. I made him a plate, poured him a cup of coffee, and put his pain meds on the edge of the plate.

I got a small smile as he saw me entering with his breakfast-in-bed.

"Hungry, or just hurting?" I asked.

"Ugh," was all he could manage as he tried to sit up against the headboard. He downed the meds first. That answered that question.

I filled him in on Grandma's phone call.

Joe reached over to the bedside table for his phone and checked for messages. "Gazarra says a warrant has been issued for DeChooch's arrest. They don't have him yet. He says your dad gave an official statement that he's part of our team, and he was working the case, so you and I are going to get credit for finding O'Brien. It's payday, Cupcake." He grinned at me. His voice wasn't sounding all that reassuring. He was in pain, and he was worried about DeChooch. We didn't know what his plans were or if they included killing us for getting in his way.

"Yay," I said sarcastically with a little frown, not feeling that excited right now.

He groaned a little in agreement. "Can you help me change these bandages?" he asked.

I grimaced. They were oozing and looked icky. It's not that I don't love Joe, but icky is not something I handle well.

"Never mind," he said. "You're turning green, Cupcake."

"Sorry," I said, trying to give him a little smile.

"It's fine. I'll call mom," he said.

All the hackles rose on the back of my neck. "What?"

"We'll pull up to a dock, and I'll call my Mom to come change the bandages," he said.

"You're mom's not a nurse," I said.

"She's a mom," he said, like the two nouns were interchangeable.

"I'm your wife," I reminded him. And I dang sure wasn't going to have his mother giving me the death glare when she saw the damage inflicted on her son while he was on the job with me. She was still pissed about the time I ran him over with dad's Buick.

"You're green," he reminded me.

"I'll handle it," I insisted, getting up to find the bag full of bandages and supplies that the hospital sent home with us.

Joe tried to talk me through it, but the bandages were sticking to the stitches where there had been seeping. We ended up in the shower trying to soak the bandages off. I gently washed the wounds with soap and water, and then patted him dry. He lay back in bed while I put ointment and new bandages on him. By the time I got finished, the drugs had kicked in, and Joe was asleep again.

My phone was ringing at 8:30. It was Lula.

"Girlfriend, what's this I'm hearing about the Judge being rescued by your old man?"

"I guess it's true." I told her what Grandma had told me.

"Holy cow. I never pictured your dad doing something cool like that. Every time I've seen your dad, he was hunched over a plate full of meat and potatoes or watching the game on TV. What the heck was he thinking, going after DeChooch alone like that?"

"I guess he wasn't alone. He had Mr. Kleinschmidt and Mr. Landowsky with him, and Mrs. Karwatt and Mrs. Bestler."

"Say what?" Lula exclaimed. "Old Mrs. Bestler, the elevator operator? She can't even remember where she lives half the time. What the heck kind of back up is that?"

The same kind of back up I usually get, I thought to myself.

"Anyway, it all ended okay. DeChooch got away, but now Joe and I can collect on the contract with Mrs. O'Brien."

"Well, that's something, anyway," Lula agreed. "You taking your granny to the funeral?"

"No, she's going with Carl."

"Good. See, I was thinking. Wouldn't it be good to have that whole treasure thing figured out before the funeral? I mean, just in case Olmer's spirit is still restless, what with being murdered and all. Maybe if we found the treasure and figured out who killed him, he could rest in peace."

"You mean, right now?"

"Well, yeah. The funeral is at one. That gives us four hours."

OK, I know it sounded crazy. First of all, I wasn't one to believe in restless spirits roaming around seeking vengeance. Even if I was, the person responsible for Solomon Olmer's death, if it was murder, was probably on the other side with him by now. And finally, I didn't even know what I was wearing to the funeral, let alone how I was going to get Joe dressed and out the door.

On the other hand, I could clearly hear the voice of Scrooge McDuck echoing in the back of my mind. He was pacing back and forth in his plaid kilt, his pince-nez glasses perched on the end of his beak. His Scottish accent was crisp and lilting as he argued, "What the heck else would be keeping a spirit from rest? We need to rescue that boy's tortured spirit. And more importantly, we need to rescue that treasure!"

"We don't have time," I said into the phone to Lula, even though I was really talking to Scrooge McDuck.

"Sure we do," Lula and Scrooge answered in unison. "Time's a'waistin'.

My gears seized up all of a sudden. I never told Lula about the treasure.

"Lula, how do you know about the treasure?" I asked, my blood running cold. If Lula knew, the whole Burg probably knew. And if the Burg knew, time really was a'waistin'.

"Joyce Barnhardt has been following you around. She says you found a treasure map on the body, and you've been seen with a $5,000 metal detector you bought from Bernie Kuntz and a hand full of gold coins."

"Joyce actually said $5,000 and Gold coins?" I asked breathlessly. "You heard this from Joyce herself?"

"Yeah, she came into the studio. She was trying to entice Melvin into calling her if you showed up so she could tail you to the treasure. She used her wicked wiles to get information from Bernie and Emilio too."

Ick. I did a mental grimace. Joyce had been doing a lot of homework.

"We didn't try to pawn any gold coins at Emilio's," I assured her. I wasn't fibbing. We didn't try to pawn them.

"So, there's no treasure?" Lula asked, sounding deflated and disappointed.

"What are you doing?" Scrooge demanded. "We need backup!" He was hopping up and down, swinging his fists. "Let's go get that gold!"

I shook my head trying to clear it.

"Meet me at McDonald's I told her."

Ten minutes later, I was dressed in my usual jeans and a t-shirt. I got in my jeep and took off up-river. By the time I pulled into the McDonald's parking lot, Lula was inside talking to Grandma and the her gang of octogenarians.

"Hey," I said, giving them a little finger wave.

"Are you really going after the treasure?" Grandma wanted to know.

"Shhhh!" I looked around, hoping no one was paying attention. "Maybe," I whispered.

"I figured you get over your fright and be back at it before long," Carl said. "I've got just the thing to help us." He handed me a gym bag.

"Us?" I hesitated. Probably I shouldn't open the bag inside a crowded restaurant. It might start another chain reaction of vomiting. I set the bag on a nearby table and slowly unzipped it, peeking inside. I swallowed hard as I quickly zipped it back up and did a little freak-out dance.

"Rats?" I gasped. "It's a bag full of rats!" I hissed.

"Yep," Carl beamed proudly. "Those are my Pied Piper Spy-cams."

"Rats?" I asked, turning to Grandma.

"Yeah, a dozen. They each have a number on them. You press the number on the remote, and you can control them, just like a remote control car. And you can see what they see. You send them down the tunnel, and the multi-screen display can help you keep an eye on your bear family. They won't care if there's a rat down there. They're used to rats. It's people they don't like."

I was thinking these rats probably didn't smell like rats anymore, but what do I know?

"Good thinking," Lula said, giving Carl a pat on the back.

"There might be snow on the roof, but there's no grass growing here," he said.

"I'll say," Lula greed.

"Uh, yeah," I said, trying to smile.

"My Carl's got a gizmo for just about everything," Grandma beamed.

"Mrs. Miller's Pitt Bull isn't looking too good these days," Mrs. Karwatt told me. "When he goes, Carl's going to liberate him for me."

"You're going to steal Mrs. Miller's dog?" I asked, shocked at the eager look on Mrs. Karwatt's face.

"He'll be dead," she explained. "She'll never know."

"Eww!" I grimaced. "Won't someone recognize him?"

"Carl's going to dye the hair," Grandma said. "Isn't he clever?"

"Clever's not the word for it," Lula said, giving me a creeped out look.

"No kidding," I said. "OK, well, we're off then. Thanks for the...cameras," I said, gingerly taking the bag by the straps, careful not to touch the actual rat bodies. I couldn't help the full body shiver that was surely visible. I thought I could hear Carl laughing as I swung through the door.

"Wait!" Grandma said, jumping up from her seat. "We're coming with you!"

"Of course you are," I groaned.