Finally, Mama spoke: I know you want to talk to me, Sally. Im not ready to listen. That detective told me you lied to me about Jim Albert. I dont know what all else you lied about. I dont know whether I trust you anymore. I do know that right now, Im as mad at you as a wasp with a ruint nest.

But Rosalee Mama put up a hand. Now, why dont you climb back into that gaudy car of yours and give me some time to visit with my girls? I may cool down some, and we can talk later. Or maybe I wont. Youll just have to wait and see.

I had to credit Mamas finesse. Though I did question how a woman who drives a turquoise convertible the size of a cruise ship could call someone elses car gaudy.

She turned her back on him. Cmon, girls, lets go inside.

Maddies hands were at her hips, the better to stare down Sal. Mama looped one arm around Maddies elbow. Marty dropped the juniper and took Mamas other arm. Then the three of them trooped off toward the house.

Sal and I looked at each other over the hood of his car.

Well, youre in some deep shit now, I said.

I cant believe Ive lost her, Mace. Shes my whole world. Wold. Sal leaned his elbows on the roof of his car and dropped his head into his hands. What am I going to do?

You could start by telling her the truth.

He rocked his head from side to side, his crowning glory a complete fright now. I cant do that, Mace. Misery filled his voice. I cant talk about the murder victim; cant discuss how I knew Jimmy Albrizio. Dont you think I would if I could? Id do anything to get Rosie back.

Sal might be macho, but love was bringing him to emotional meltdown. As big as that man was, if he started crying I feared a flood.

Well, what about me, then? I changed the subject. What about how I was run off the road into what could have been my grave? Can you talk about that?

He raised his head. I had absolutely nothing to do with that, Mace. His tone was honest, not evasive. His eyes met mine and held there, no darting about. Either he was telling the truth or he was an Olympic-caliber liar.

Its just that Id have never been out there on that lonesome road if not for you, Sal.

And Im sorry about that. But I explained about the phone call.

Not completely. You never said who called you with a story so terrifying that you ran out and left me swinging in the wind. You could have left me a message at the pro shop.

The junior Don Juan flashed into my mind. He had a message for me all right; but it wasnt from Sal.

I told you I wasnt in my right mind when I left there, Mace. I was frantic.

So, who called?

When Sal told me whod scared him off our meeting, I just about fell down and cracked my one good knee.

___.

Opening Maddies front door, I smelled cold fried chicken. Mama was laughing.

Whats so funny? I said, limping into the gleaming kitchen. The place was so clean, you could perform surgery on Maddies stainless-steel countertops.

I was just telling your sisters what my neighbor Alice said about taking care of Teensy for the last two days. That dog can get into more trouble than The smile died on Mamas lips. Cmere and let me take a closer look at you, Mace. She hunted in her purse for the glasses she was too vain to wear. What happened to your forehead? Why are you hobbling?

Maddie shot me a panicked look. Mace hurt herself at the park, Mama.

Thats right, Marty echoed quickly. At work.

We werent going to reveal that someonepossibly Mamas recently departed former true lovehad forced me off the road into a canal.

Actually, it was after work, I improvised, slowly closing the distance to the table. Maddie pulled out a chair for me. You remember that crazy New Jersey lady I told you about, Mama? The one who moved to the country, even though shes scared of anything that slithers, creeps, or flies?

She nodded, a frown on her face. I sat down and let her brush away my bangs to examine my head.

Well, last night, I crawled into her attic after a possum. The crazy thing jumped right out at me. It startled me, was all. I slipped and hit my head on a rafter. Then I took a spill and smacked my knee pretty good.

It scares me how easily I can lie. But I figure if the Lord knows Mama, he must know that a little deception is for the best.

She sighed with relief, resting her hand on my cheek. Is that all, Mace? A trapping mishap? Youll be fine.

I heard Marty let out the breath shed been holding. Crisis averted.

Now, tell me about this beautiful haircut. Mama lifted my thick hair, watching it fall. Maddie says you actually sat still for DVora. Lucky for you that girls better with the scissors than she is with peroxide.

Her fingers went to her own ruined hair, sending platinum strands with gray roots onto Maddies glass-topped table. Lips pressed into a disapproving line, Maddie swept the hairs into a napkin, held it by two fingers, and dropped it in the garbage.

I saw that disgusted look. Mama slathered butter on a piece of white bread. The bones of two chicken legs already littered her plate. I cant believe I endured fifteen hours of difficult labor to bring Maddie into the world, yet a couple of hairs off my poor head gives her fits.

Ive got news. I cut short the oft-told story of Maddies painful delivery. Youll never believe what Sal just told me.

I dont want to talk about that man. Done with her bread, Mama was delicately licking butter off her fingertips.

Dont you want to know why he rushed over to the jail last night, frantic? I asked.

I didnt know he was frantic, and I wouldnt care anyway. Donnie Bailey came back to my cell and asked if I wanted to see him, and I told him absolutely not. Donnie didnt say why Sally was there.

He came because Emma Jean Valentine called him up and told him youd had a heart attack.

Close your mouth, Maddie, I said. Youre gonna draw flies.

Its so rare I get the chance to surprise my older sister. I was taking full advantage.

Emma Jean told Sal I had a heart attack? Mama lifted a fork load of banana cream pie to her mouth. Im healthy as a hog, girls. What was she thinking?

Thats what we need to find out, Maddie said, handing our mother a napkin to wipe meringue off her chin. This isnt the first time Emma Jeans name has arisen since you found the body in your trunk, Mama. I, for one, would like to know why.

Marty darted in like a sparrow after a crumb, snatching the half-bite of pie crust Mama left on the plate. You cant suspect Emma Jean of anything bad, Maddie, she said. Shes so nice.

Maddie and I looked at each other.

Even nice people can have guilty secrets, Marty, I said.

I repeated what Emma Jean told DVora, that she was mad enough to kill over Jim Alberts cheating.

Funny she never told me he was cheating, Mama said. She was likely embarrassed, planning that big wedding and all. Emma Jeans life has had some real heartache, girls.

Maddie snorted.

Dont be mean, Maddie. The poor woman lost her little boy; and theres no heartbreak like that. He ran away when he was just thirteen. They never did find him, neither. It just about tore Emma Jean up. She and the boys father divorced. She just couldnt get over the loss.

How sad. A tear rolled down Martys perfect cheek. Poor Emma Jean.

You might have noticed that picture on Emma Jeans desk at the police department, Mama continued. That was her son.

All of us were silent, even Maddie. She got up to return the sweet tea pitcher to the refrigerator.

I finally said, Emma Jeans not the only one with a secret, Mama. Your man-of-mystery boyfriend has been at the top of our list of possible murder suspects.

I ticked off on my fingers everything we knewor suspectedabout Sal: his criminal ties to Jim Albert; his evasiveness; the fact he had access to Mamas car trunk. The only thing I didnt mention was his possible role in my crash, since we didnt want to scare her.

I dont know, girls. Mama opened the refrigerator and took out the pitcher Maddie had just put away. Its true Sallys lied to me. But I just cant believe hes a killer. Ive always been a good judge of character.

Thats true, Marty said, using a napkin to sop some tea Mama spilled on the floor.

Please! Maddie said. The woman has had four husbands. How good a character judge can she be? She wiped Mamas fingerprints off the door of her stainless-steel fridge.

Now, Maddie, you know thats not fair. Mama took a swallow of sugared tea. Only that second one was what youd call a failure as a human being. And I blame that on me still being in shock over your daddys dying. The last two were good men, just bad matches.

Mama was right. One of those exes still lives in Himmarshee, and brings carnations and chocolates every year on her birthday.

Marty changed the subject. Speaking of men, did Mace tell you she saw Jeb Ennis the other day?

Talk about a suspect, Maddie muttered.

I hadnt told my sisters what the liquor store clerk said about Jeb. For some reason, I felt protective of him. I wanted to talk to him first before I told about his temper and Jim Albert.

That boy sure knew how to handle a horse, Mama said dreamily. I liked him.

Proving my point, Maddie said. Jeb Ennis broke your daughters heart. Id say his character leaves something to be desired.

Mama got up to clear her plate. Sometimes its nobodys fault when a romance fails, Maddie. Jeb was wild and free; Mace is cautious and careful. She was in college; he was in rodeo. Those buckle bunnies on the circuit wouldnt leave him be. Maybe it was good man, bad match.

He sure was good-looking. Marty sipped from Mamas glass.

Still is, I added, and left it at that.

Mama turned the toaster on the counter so she could check her lipstick in the reflection. Maddie, I dont know what possessed you to get this silver finish on all your appliances. Youre forever wiping off prints, she said.

Maddie bit her tongue, and moved on to the toaster after scouring chicken grease and a ring of Mamas sweet tea off the counter.

Hearing Mama say prints reminded me of fingerprints which reminded me of jail, which reminded me of the man whod sent Mama there.

I cant believe I forgot to tell yall something. I slapped my injured forehead, which stung like crazy. I did some research on the computer about Martinez.

Three sets of eyes turned toward me, as intent as my animals at feeding time.

Remember when Emma Jean said something bad happened to him in Miami, Mama? He was a hotshot detective. A real star. Then his wife was murdered.

Marty gasped.

It was during what they call a home invasion robbery. The bad guys push their way in, right through the front door, and then kill anyone in the house who might be a witness.

Mamas eyes widened and her hand covered her mouth.

How did it happen, Mace? Only someone who knew Maddie like a sister would hear the quiver in her voice.

Well, thats the thing. Once I read the article, I understood why Martinez was so ready to believe Mama could be a killer.

That doesnt make sense, Marty said.

It will. I folded my hands on the table. Patricia Martinez had also been a police officer, until she quit to start a family. Like any good cop, she was suspicious and careful.

But not this time, Maddie said.

Not this time. I shook my head. The police found out later shed opened the door because a sweet-looking old woman was on the stoop, crying and appearing confused. When Patricia started out to see if she could help, the old ladys accomplices pushed her back through the open door. They shot her right there. Martinez found his wifes body when he got home from work. She was seven months pregnant.

Marty gasped again.

They ultimately caught the robbers, because another homeowner theyd shot survived to describe them. I shifted in the chair to ease the pain in my knee. He told the newspaper the old woman looked so harmless, he never suspected a thing. Want to know why?

All three heads nodded.

She reminded him of the sweet old lady who used to teach at his Sunday school.

Mama had one hand on her head and the other holding on to the dashboard of Pams old VW convertible. The wind was blowing the yellow pansies flat on her Sunday hat.

Actually, it was Wednesday evening. But we were on our way to church, which explains the fancy headwear. After what Mama had been through, I figured the least I could do was accompany her to mid-week services at Abundant Hope and Charity Chapel, like shes always asking me to.

I was driving my nieces car. Maddie had owned it a hundred years ago in high school, and shed kept good maintenance on the engine. Of course. But the top had rusted into the down position. Maddie didnt see any reason to waste the money to fix a car that Pam only drove when she came home from college two or three times a year. If it rained, Maddie always said, Pam could put on a slicker.

How you doin over there, Mama? I yelled into the warm night air.

She nodded she was okay, but that might just have been the pansies trembling on her hat.

Just hold on, were almost there. I stepped on the gas.

I learned to drive over rough terrain in orange groves and across fields rooted up by wild hogs. To me, a smooth, paved road seems like an open invitation to exceed the speed limit.

Within minutes, we were whipping into a parking space. The church, a converted convenience store, is unfortunately situated right next to a rib joint called the Pork Pit. Whenever I attend church, the scent from the Pit makes me think more about getting barbecue than getting saved. I turned off the key, and the old engine shuddered to a stop.

Here we are. Safe and sound.

Remind me to take a tranquilizer the next time I have to ride with you, Mace. Mama unclenched her hand from the dash and turned the rear view mirror in her direction. You were driving so fast, gnats were hitting me like buckshot. I think I still have bug parts embedded in my face. She bared her teeth, checking for black dots.

You look fine, Mama. If I told her shed actually lost a clump or two of pansies to the wind, shed insist on going home to get another hat.