I found the news archives for the Miami Herald and typed in a search with Martinezs name and the words police department. When the first story popped up, my heart skidded into my stomach.

Martinezs pregnant wife had been murdered in their Miami home.

I awoke to the smell of coffee brewing in my kitchen. I leaned over to make sure there wasnt a pair of mens shoes sitting under my bed. A shooting pain in my forehead reminded me that my noggin got a pretty good knock when I crashed. But even with a concussion, I think I might have remembered having sex. Thatd be like forgetting your first bite of chocolate layer cake after being on a six-month fast.

Make that an eight-and-a-half-month fast.

My head was pounding. But I managed to scan under the bed and across the floor. Nope. Nothing but worn pine planks and dust bunnies. Looks like I still hadnt tasted that chocolate cake. The only footwear in sight was mine.

I got out of bed, grabbed my granddaddys shotgun from the closet, and crept to the bedroom door. I didnt think a murderer would go to the trouble of making me coffee before he killed me, but you cant be too careful.

Peeking around the doorjamb, I spotted a familiar hand spilling three teaspoons of sugar into each of two coffee cups on the kitchen counter. As I propped the shotgun against the wall, I suddenly felt all the pains I hadnt realized Id had. My shoulder throbbed. My knee ached like Great Aunt Ellas arthritis in December. I limped out of hiding.

I dont take that much sugar, Maddie. Martys the one who likes her coffee just like yours.

My older sister turned around, smiling in the sunlight that streamed through my window. Well, hey, Sleepyhead. I wondered whether you were ever getting up.

Leave it to Maddie to sound so uncharacteristically chipper at an inappropriate time, like first thing in the morning. I mumbled a bad word, moved slowly to the counter, and waved at her to hand over the cup of too-sweet coffee.

Youll be sorry youre being such a grump after I tell you my good news, Mace. Henry called me this morning. Apparently he tried to call you, too. She aimed me a look. But he kept getting your answering machine.

I glanced at the clock over the sink and rubbed my eyes. Twenty til eleven. I must have been dead to the world.

Henry says theyre letting Mama out. The state attorneys office has decided not to charge her.

I felt tears rising. The effort of blinking really fast to stop them hurt my head, so I collapsed into a kitchen chair and just let them come.

I know, Mace. I felt like crying, too. She pulled a paper towel from the kitchen roll and handed it to me. Those are tears of relief, is what those are. This has all been just too much, hasnt it? Drink your coffee now. Ill do up this mess of dishes you left in the sink. My kitchen is always spotless before I go to bed.

Not even my tears could deflect criticism from Maddie, whos a toothbrush-on-your-knees-type house cleaner. Im more from the one-swipe-of-the-mop-every-six-months school.

She made a face as she picked up a bowl with hardened salsa in the bottom. Henry says theyre going to release her after lunch sometime. She shot a squirt of dishwashing liquid at the salsa and started scrubbing. He says hell give a call when we can go to the jail to pick her up.

Maddie mentioning jail reminded me of what Id found on the computer about Detective Martinez. I decided to tell both my sisters at once. Theyd surely have questions. And, seeing how Maddie was right in the middle of washing up for me, I didnt want to distract her.

She lifted an empty beer bottle off the counter and held it up. Just how much of this stuff do you drink, Mace? Do you think its smart to overdo it with liquor when youve just suffered a brain injury?

Beers not liquor, Maddie. Its beer. And the doctor said my head is fine. One bottle is hardly overdoing it.

Im just telling you to watch yourself. You know Daddys family had more than its share of drunks.

I had a vague memory of a family picnic that ended in a fistfight after Daddys brother Teddy got tossed into a jumbo-sized vat of potato salad.

Thanks for the warning, I said. Now, Ive got to call into work and explain why Im so late.

I already took care of that for you. Everything at the park is squared away. I talked to your boss. I caught her up about your accident, and told her how much you needed some time off. Rhonda said to go ahead and take what you need. She did mention something about a New Jersey woman with a panther, but I didnt catch all that.

I counted slowly to five. It didnt work. I wish you wouldnt do that, Maddie.

Do what?

Step into my life and take over.

Maddie looked wounded. I was just trying to help.

Well, its embarrassing. Ive already got one mother. And I can manage things fine on my own.

Maddie took a long look around my little house, with the dust on the kitchen countertops, my clothes in a heap where Id left them on the living room floor, and Paw-Paws old shotgun leaning against the wall in the hallway.

Hmmm. There was more meaning packed into that little sound and her cocked eyebrow than into a whole half-hour lecture.

I got defensive. Things arent normal right now, Maddie. Mamas been unjustly accused of murder. Someone may have tried to kill me last night. And we still dont know who murdered Jim Albert, and why they planned to let Mama take the blame for it.

Maddie dried off my beer glass. She examined it as she held it up to the light. Youre right, Mace.

I couldnt wait to tell Marty how quickly our older sister had given in. The hunt for water spots or a beer-foam mark on my glassware must have diverted her.

Anyway, lets not fuss at one another. This should be a happy day. Kenny wants to take all of us out to dinner to celebrate Mamas release.

Kenny is Maddies husband of nineteen years, who loves her beyond all reason.

That sounds great, Maddie. If Mamas up to it, of course.

When hasnt Mama been up to anything involving food?

Just then, Maddies cell phone rang. She walked directly to her purse, found the phone in a special pocket shed sewn inside, and answered without fumbling on the second ring. I hated my organized sister.

Maddie listened for a few moments and turned to me. Its Henry, Mace. He says theyve let Mama out early. Hes at the jail, helping her to sign some papers. But he has a court hearing in a few minutes. He cant give her a ride. She spoke into the phone again. Were way out at Maces, Henry. You know she lives out in the hardwood hammock with the wild creatures. Ill call Marty at work and ask her to go meet Mama. The librarys only a block from the jail.

We decided Marty would pick up Mama and wed all meet for lunch at Maddies.

You can borrow Pams car until the police finish up with yours, Mace. Your Jeep will probably need work after you get it dried out, Maddie said.

Maddies daughter, Pam, was a college freshman in California, studying film-making.

I finished my coffee, showered and dressed, and was ready to go before Maddie had put away the last of my dishes.

We were mostly quiet on the twenty-minute ride to Maddies. I was thinking about my close call in the canal, and about everything that had happened since Mama discovered Jim Alberts body in her trunk two nights before.

Hey, Maddie, I finally said. We were just coming up on the brick entryway to her neighborhood, with my sister driving fifteen mph under the speed limit, as usual. Is Pam still looking for a plot for her first movie?

Um-hmm, Maddie murmured, careful to focus her concentration on the right-hand turn shed made onto Whispering Pine Drive five hundred times before.

Tell her I have a good one. It starts with a college girls grandma who murders a man and stuffs his body in the trunk of her vintage convertible.

Not funny, Mace.

Lighten up, Maddie. The worst is behind us.

As we proceeded at a snails pace onto my sisters street, I realized I may have spoken too soon. Halfway up the block, we saw Sal Provenza parked in his yellow Cadillac, taking up two spaces in Maddies driveway.

Maddie couldnt get out of her Volvo fast enough. She was beside the drivers side door of Sals Cadillac before Id even unhinged my aching body from her passenger seat.

Our mothers boyfriend looked up, cigar in hand and a guilty look on his face. Maddie was so mad, she didnt know which of Sals sins to seek vengeance for first.

I cant believe you have the nerve to come here, stinking up my driveway with that cigar, after you framed Mama for murder and nearly killed my sister, Mace.

That just about covered everything, I thought.

Sal stubbed out the cigar in his ashtray and gave Maddie a long, hard look. My sister held his stare without so much as a flinch. He patted at his perfect hair. I dont have any idea what youre talking about, Maddie. But I dont like the way it sounds. Harder people than you have tried over the years to accuse me of things. None of them has hurt me as much as hearing you say I could harm your mother. Mudder. I love Rosie.

He looked past my sister to watch me as, wincing, I lifted first one, then the other of my aching legs over the border of Chinese juniper that lined Maddies driveway. Sal must be a good actor, because a look of complete surprise flickered across his face as he absorbed my sorry state. Moving quickly for such a big man, he jumped from his car. The heavy drivers door pushed Maddie out of the way.

Sal offered his arm for support. If your sister wasnt so busy attacking me, she might have realized you could use some help. He leaned me against the wide expanse of his Cadillacs hood. Whatd Maddie mean, I tried to kill you? What in the hell happened, Mace?

Someone ran me off the road last night, out near the golf course. Remember the golf course, Sal? I slipped into using his given name. If someone has conspired to murder you, it seems a tad formal to call him Mister.

I continued, Thats where you called me to come all the way out there to meet you, and then conveniently disappeared before I got there.

What are you suggesting? I set you up? Sal looked at me like the creature from the Alien movie was burrowing out of my body. I had a good reason for rushing out of there.

Yeah? What?

I got a call on my cell phone yesterday that your mother had suffered a heart attack at the jail.

Maddie gasped and grabbed my hand. My own heart started racing. Then I remembered, wed already heard from Henry this morning that Mama was fine, on her way to freedom.

Our mothers heart is okay, Sal, I said.

But I didnt know that then. I ran out of the pro shop so fast my shoes were smoking. I tried to call you again at the park office, but you must have already left work. I didnt have your cell number. Besides, I figured if I was getting news of Rosalee taking ill, then you and your sisters must have heard about it, too. I knew Id see you at the jail, or maybe at the hospital.

He twisted a heavy gold bracelet around his wrist, gaze fixed on the engraving that said Sal. I didnt even want to think about my worst fear: that the next time Id see you girls would be at Rosies funeral.

He pulled out an oversized white handkerchief with deep red the initials SFP. He blew his nose, loud. Sorry, he said, blowing again. Thinking about losing her still upsets me.

His hands were shaking. I almost felt sorry for him.

Heart attack or not, youve already lost our mother. Maddies voice was as cruel as a Christmas Eve burglar. Mama believes, as do we, that you killed Jim Albert. We think you put his body in her big trunk, and then let her take the blame. Maddie crossed her arms over her chest, purse tucked in tight, and waited for his response.

Sal carefully folded and refolded his handkerchief. He looked at the ground, and then raised his face to Maddie. There was no sadness now; just a tic in his jaw and cold anger.

You better watch yourself. His voice was a growl. You could get into a lot of trouble making accusations you dont have fact one to support. Mace, tell her shes out of line, wouldya?

Shell do no such thing, Maddie jumped in. Mace and Marty both agree with me. And so does our mother, for that matter.

When Sal looked at me, I saw hurt, not anger in his eyes. Is that true, Mace? Does Rosalee think Im a murderer? Do you?

I paused, considering what to say. The truth was I didnt know what to think.

It seems suspicious, Sal. We find out you have ties to Jim Albert, ties of the criminal kind. Youre dating my mother, who just happens to have a spacious trunk in the back of her old Bonne-ville. Shes playing bingo at the Seminole reservation. The car is parked way out in the hinterlands.

He ran a finger around his collar, sweating in the full sun on Maddies driveway. Anyone could have had access to that car, Mace.

He addressed the car, but avoided the topic of his ties to the murder victim.

Everyone in town knows your mother and her turquoise convertible, he continued.

Yeah, but how many other people have an extra set of keys to the car?

From the flush on Sals face, I could see my comment hit home.

She gave you a set, didnt she? I asked.

You know she did. Rosalees always losing her keys. I have a set for safekeeping.

Humph! said Maddie.

You both know Im not the only one. A few extra sets are floating around town.

True, I conceded. But how many of those other folks with Mamas keys have also drawn the suspicions of the detective investigating Jim Alberts murder? Just you.

Oddly, Sal smiled. I wouldnt be so sure you know everything Detective Martinez has up his sleeve, he said. Policemen play things close to the vest. They dont share everything they know, especially not with civilians.

Thats neither here nor there, Mr. Provenza. Maddie put her hands on her hips. On top of everything Mace just said, you also seem to be the most likely suspect in her near-fatal crash last night.

Now, thats where youre a hundred percent wrong, Maddie. Looping his thumbs into his waistband, Sal leaned against his Cadillac, the picture of confidence. Why havent I heard you making accusations about the person who called me to say your poor mother was at deaths door, that shed collapsed at the Himmarshee Jail?

My sister and I looked at each other. It was a good question.

We would have gotten the answer, too, if Marty hadnt chosen exactly that moment to pull up in front of Maddies house. She was beeping her horn like Himmarshee High had just won the homecoming game. And there was Mama, grinning and waving from Martys front seat.

Its kind of hard to pretend you dont see Big Sal Provenza. But Mama was doing her best.

Rosalee, I just want to talk to you, Sal begged, placing his palms on the rolled up window on the passenger side of Martys car.

Mama climbed out of her seat, pushed around Sal with a withering glance, and then immediately turned a big smile on Maddie and me. Girls, Im so happy to see yall. I thought Id never get out of that place. Oh, my Lord, the food. And then a visit from that talky Pastor Bob Dixon. And those horrible cots. Mace, you saw those inmate smocks. Remind me never to wear orange again.

Please, Rosalee. Sal ran his hands through his hair, messing up his careful styling. I can explain everything. I just cant do it right now.

She didnt say a word to Sal. The look she gave him said enough. Then she turned to us again, grinning as she squinted in the sun. She was like a swivel-headed doll with two expressions: ecstatic for us; furious for Sal.

I cant wait to have some real food, girls. Maddie, I hope you have something good in your fridge. You and Kenny arent still on that low-cholesterol kick, are you?

Sal tried again. Rosie, honey Enough! Mama cut him off. Then she glared at him for a full ten seconds.

Sal seemed to shrink in his Big-and-Tall-Man ensemble as the moments passed.

The tense silence was making Marty uncomfortable. She shot an apologetic glance at Sal, then stooped to pick a stem of juniper from the driveway border. Maddie, with her arm around Mamas shoulders, bored a hole through Sal with her own version of laser vision. Watching the two of them staring at Sal, I could see now where Maddie had inherited The Glare.