knew from day one you were my very own Charlie’s Angel,” R said, giving her a nice Italian kiss-kiss, one sweet peck on each cheek.
And, oh boy, was Kat’s face redder than my dad’s Santa suits.
“So what’s your plan to get to Father Time’s phone?” I asked, hardly able to stand the wait to hear what The Mom Squad was cookin’ up.
“I’m thinking I should deliver a nice batch of Gram’s Christmas cookies to the jack-ass. ‘Tis the season and all,” Kat said, winking at Grams.
“Now that’s brilliant,” Grams said. “And I’ve got just the recipe I’ve been dying to try.”
“Nothing like killin’ him off with kindness,” Kat chimed-in.
“You do know you don’t need to kill the guy to use this gadget, right?” I asked, almost afraid of the answer they’d give me.
“Duh,” Grams said. “Besides, none of y’all have croaked yet from what comes outta my kitchen.”
“We may not have croaked, but we’ve all had some massive bellyaches,” Roxy said, rubbing her stomach for the added drama she never could resist.
“Exactly,” Grams said, then winked right back at Kat.
“Oh shit,” I said.
“Pun intended?” Roxy asked.
“U betchya,” I answered, suddenly feeling rather bad for my dad’s one-time friend Father Time.
I hope he has plenty of toilet paper.
CHAPTER NINE
There’s that old saying that there’s no time like the present.
Well, let me give you the Witherspoon Whoville version of that tidbit of wisdom…
There’s the Time God himself – Father Time. But I have a feeling the gift he’s about to get ain’t gonna be the best of presents.
Not since The Mom Squad’s now in charge of Operation Elve-den.
And I still can’t believe that’s what we’re calling our plan to bust Father Time. But given the circumstances, Roman and R had thought it was hilarious, and I had to agree.
Operation Elveden was the name of a real Scotland Yard investigation regarding phone-hacking scandals, just like the scandal that had rocked Roman and his brother’s worlds.
And just like in Scotland Yard’s Elveden, our perp, Father Time, had not only been accused of phone hacking, but also of bribing police. Rumor had it, Father Time had also bribed my parents’ dwarf-run security force.
So there you have it…our very own Operation Elve-den.
If Father Time was messin’ in my dad’s elf den, he’d be paying for much more than phone hacking. No one messed with my dad’s elves and got away with it.
We all lined-up around my mom’s electric car, ready to embark on the short trip to Father Time’s home, which was about a mile up the lakeshore.
Mom was in charge of driving the getaway car. Kat was in the front passenger seat and Grams, along with her baked goods and hot tea decanters, was in the back.
Each year, regardless of whether or not my dad was speaking to Father Time, Mom made the voyage to his home, loaded down with Christmas cheer and goodies.
Mom felt sorry for Father Time and always tried to be the peacekeeper between him and my dad.
“Okay,” R said, standing beside Kat’s rolled down window and giving his team one final pep talk, “each of you knows exactly what to do, right?”
“Got it,” Kat said, not looking the least bit nervous.
That was Kat. Always in control. Always one step ahead of everyone else’s brain waves. And always with balls of steel.
“We’ve got it, and he’s gonna get it,” Grams spoke-up. The devilish glee gleaming from her squinting eyes indicated she was dead serious and hell bent on dealing out some serious mischief.
“Easy Grams,” Kat said, trying her best to control her main accomplice.
After being scolded for her excitement, Grams sat back in her seat and almost looked as if she were pouting.
Of the three women, only my mom looked a wee bit nervous. And that didn’t surprise me at