I hurried up to my brothers before he could change his mind. They were still standing in a line—Danny, then J.J., then Mike. “What’s going on?” I hissed at them.
“Thanks for coming,” Danny said, giving me a quick smile as he ran his hand over his face. He looked exhausted, and somehow older than I had ever seen him. I was happy to see that none of them were handcuffed—that would take this into a whole new level of seriousness. And it was serious enough, what with the cop car and its flashing lights and my brothers standing shivering in a line on the side of the road.
“Why are you guys getting arrested?” Even though I was still trying to speak as quietly as possible, I could hear my voice getting high-pitched and squeaky with worry.
“We’re not,” Mike said quickly. “We’re just being, what—detained?”
“No charges have been made,” J.J. agreed, nodding. “We haven’t been Miranda-ized or anything.”
“But why are you—” I started, just as my brothers all exchanged simultaneous guilty looks. Danny glanced toward the Grant Avenue sign, and I realized why I was standing here. “You guys tried to steal the sign,” I said, not exactly phrasing it like a question.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” J.J. said in a small voice. “We were just driving around. We needed to blow off some steam, and then we saw the street, so . . .”
“I don’t know why there was even a cop there,” Danny said, shaking his head. “It was like he was waiting for us or something. All the other times we took the sign, it was totally deserted, not—”
“The governor of Connecticut lives in Stanwich Woods,” I said, pointing to where we could see the entrance from here. “There’s always a police officer there when he’s in town.”
“Oh.” This information seemed to deflate Danny somehow, and his shoulders slumped.
“Well, the good news is that we didn’t actually do anything,” J.J. said, in a voice that was straining to be upbeat. “We’d only just started to climb the sign when the five-oh showed up.”
“I don’t think that’s good news,” Mike said, shaking his head.
“Well, it’s better news than if he caught us red-handed, like, removing the sign,” J.J. pointed out. “All he has us on right now is suspicion. And a grudge.”
I just blinked at my brother. “Why would he have a grudge?”
J.J. shrugged. “We’ve just taken up a lot of his time tonight, that’s all.”
“What—” I started, just as the police officer lowered his walkie and turned back around toward us. Now that there wasn’t a flashlight beam or the aftereffects of a flashlight beam shining in my eyes, I could see that I recognized the police officer—it was Officer Ramirez, who we’d all seen just a few hours before.
Officer Ramirez frowned at me, and I gave him a small wave, but he just shook his head and turned back to my brothers. “I need to ask you again why you’re here,” he said, his voice low and serious.
They exchanged a glance and realized at once what the problem was—they couldn’t admit that they were attempting to steal town property. But that might be the only thing that would clear them of being suspected of having ill intent toward the governor of Connecticut. “Um,” I said, jumping in as the silence stretched on. “I’m sure that—” But I was saved from having to spin some kind of explanation, because at that moment a hybrid rolled silently down the street, then swung into place behind my car, which was behind Danny’s—making this suddenly look like the world’s strangest and most poorly planned tailgate.
The doors opened, and Rodney and Linnie got out, both of them squinting in the flashlight beam. “J.J.?” Linnie called, trying to shield her eyes.
“Is that the bride and groom?” Officer Ramirez asked.
“Why are Rodney and Linnie here?” Mike asked.
“I called Rodney,” I said, feeling simultaneously relieved and massively guilty that they’d had to leave the honeymoon suite to come and stand outside in the cold with us. “I thought it might not be a bad idea to have a lawyer around.”
“Hey,” Rodney said as he approached us, eyes widening as he took in the police car and my brothers all in a line. “What’s—what’s going on?”
“Oh, hi again, Officer,” Linnie said, waving at Officer Ramirez, who just shook his head as he looked at the six of us—I had a feeling the addition of more Grants hadn’t improved his mood any.
“That’s our lawyer,” J.J. interrupted, nodding at Rodney. “Um, Rodney Daniels, esquire at law.”
A muscle twitched in Rodney’s jaw, and I knew just by looking at him how hard it was for him not to correct J.J. in this situation, tell him that he wasn’t actually a lawyer yet. “Right,” Rodney said after a moment. “That’s me.” He looked around at all of us and sighed. “Thanks for this, guys. This really was how I wanted to spend my wedding night.”
“What’s the problem here?” Linnie asked.
“Well, we’re here on Grant Avenue,” I said, looking at my sister and widening my eyes. “But I think the problem is that they got too close to the governor’s mansion.”
I saw understanding dawn in my sister’s expression. “Seriously?” she asked our brothers, shaking her head. “Tonight?”
“When the governor is in residence, no non-local cars are permitted to be parked on this road,” Officer Ramirez said as he pointed to Danny’s SUV. “I saw this vehicle parked on the side of the road, empty, and then soon saw the three individuals attempting to climb that sign.” He pointed to it. “They refused to tell me what they were doing here, and I detained them on suspected suspicious behavior.”
“Um,” Rodney said, then cleared his throat as he pulled on the hem of his sweatshirt. I knew Rodney well enough to tell that he was wishing he was in his suit and tie, not in jeans and an ancient Dartmouth hoodie. “What is the behavior you suspected?”
“They were clearly trying to vandalize town property,” Officer Ramirez said, shaking his head. “It’s not like they were climbing that sign for the view.”
My brothers all exchanged a glance. I had been hoping Officer Ramirez hadn’t picked up on that part of things—but then I realized it was probably good to have a police force that was capable of putting things like this together.
“But they didn’t, right?” Rodney asked carefully, taking a step forward. “They didn’t actually do any property damage?” The second he asked this, he quickly looked at my brothers, like he was worried they might actually have damaged the sign. But Mike gave him a quick, subtle head shake.
“No,” Officer Ramirez said after a small pause. “But the fact of the matter is, they’re not permitted to be here at all. The governor’s safety—”
“The governor wouldn’t mind if we were here,” J.J. said blithely. “He’s a fan.”
“A fan?” It looked like Officer Ramirez was getting to the end of his patience, and I silently tried to communicate to J.J. to dial it back.
“Our mother draws a comic strip,” I hurried to explain. “The governor, um, likes it. But I’m sure he wouldn’t care—”
“This is about protocol!” Officer Ramirez exploded. “It isn’t up to you to decide what the governor would or wouldn’t want—”
“Well, we could ask him,” J.J. said.
“Oh, great idea,” Officer Ramirez said sarcastically, his voice rising. He’d clearly had more than enough of all of us tonight. “Why don’t we just wake up the governor and ask him—”
“We don’t have to,” J.J. said with a shrug, pointing toward the entrance to Stanwich Woods. “He’s right there.”
We all turned to look. Sure enough, there was Governor Walker, in a windbreaker and jeans, coming toward us, being half pulled by a large dog who was straining against a reflective orange leash. The dog looked like five different dogs had all been tossed in a blender and this was the result—a yellowish body, a shaggy coat, stand-up ears, and a slightly smushed face. When it caught sight of us, its tail wagged frantically and it strained against the leash even more.