“Chatterton,” Declan said, coming out of his house with a suitcase.

“Sir,” Chatterton said, opening the back door.

Ducking into the backseat, Declan got ready for the long ride. Everything was hanging in the balance, and Tuesday and Polly were his last hope. All their problems could be solved with one cunning plan. Then again, things were sure to only get worse if they happened to fail.

The door closed with a click, and Declan settled in, the soft leather seat ...