Mama Rides Shotgun

by Deborah Sharp

  “Is that so?’’ He brushed a bit of hair from my eyes.

  “Yep,’’ I answered, cursing the shiver of desire I felt at his touch.

  He brought his face close to mine. “Fascinating. Tell me more,’’ he whispered, chocolate-scented breath hot on my cheek.

  I scooted backwards on the ground, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. “Now, you’re making fun of me.’’

  “I’d never,’’ he answered, rising to his knees to follow me. Suddenly, that dying campfire felt awfully hot. I stopped backing away. He cupped my chin and lifted my face. Our eyes met. Memories of his touch on my naked body washed over me.

  Then, I felt someone tap me hard on the shoulder. “Really do hate to interrupt,’’ came a nasty voice from behind me. “But I understand you want to talk to me.’’

  I took just a second to wonder what would have happened next with Carlos. Then I turned to look up at my top suspect in the case of the planted rattlesnake.

  “First of all, I don’t appreciate you spreading speculations around about me and some snake,’’ Austin said, leaning into my face. “I’d sooner chew on broken glass than get anywhere near one of those horrible creatures. I’m deathly afraid of them.’’

  “It’s true, Mace.’’ Trey tugged at his ex-girlfriend’s arm, trying to back her off. “She hates snakes. Once, I took her to the reptile house at Busch Gardens. She started screaming and carrying on before we’d barely gotten through the door.’’

  “I told you I didn’t want to go in there, Trey.’’

  “Well, I wanted to see the python, Austin. I didn’t know you were going to freak out.’’

  “I said I was afraid. You never listen!’’

  She tossed her curls and pouted. Trey sighed like he’d been through it before. I wondered if I’d stumbled into an episode of Divorce Court.

  “I’m not crazy about snakes, either.’’ Rising to his feet beside the campfire, Carlos smiled at my suspect. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,’’ he said. “Austin, is it?’’

  I raised my eyebrows. All of a sudden Mr. Rude Miami was Mr. Good Manners? “Sorry,’’ I said, and then did some quick introductions. “Carlos Martinez, Trey Bramble. Lawton was Trey’s daddy. And this is Austin Close, Trey’s ex-fiancée, and, conveniently, a snake phobic.’’

  She glared at me, and then extended a hand and a sunny smile at Carlos.

  “I heard y’all were discussing me at dinner, Mace. I just wanted to come over to say I had nothing to do with that snake.’’ I got the lower-watt version of Austin’s smile. “We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot, haven’t we?’’

  “Well, I do tend to take it personally when someone snaps a cow whip to spook my horse into traffic.’’

  “An accident, as I’ve told you,’’ she said through clenched teeth. “And, I think I recall apologizing more than once.’’

  “Mace is bad about accepting apologies, Austin,’’ said Carlos, the rat. “She really hangs onto a grudge.’’

  “I do not.’’ I rose from the ground and crossed my arms over my chest. “And I’ll prove it by calling a truce. You say you had nothing to do with my tent? Okay. And the whip was an accident? Fine. Now, you’re afraid of snakes? Whatever. So if the rattler wasn’t you, any idea who it might have been?’’

  I looked from her to Trey and back again. They both shook their heads.

  “Not only do I not know who, I don’t know why,’’ Trey said.

  “We thought it could be a message of some sort, like someone doesn’t want Mace around,’’ Carlos said. “Maybe someone doesn’t want any questions asked about your father’s death, Trey.’’

  I narrowed my eyes at Austin. “Or maybe it’s someone who doesn’t want me around for another reason.’’

  She snorted. “You think I’m jealous? Of you?’’ Her gaze traveled from my greasy hair to my manure-caked boots, resting a moment on what were probably flecks of marshmallow stuck to my chin. “Please!’’

  Carlos held up his hands. “Ladies, ladies. Arguing will get us nowhere. Why don’t we all sit down and start over?”

  “Getting chilly,’’ Trey said, taking a seat on the ground.

  “Should be another cold one,’’ Carlos added.

  Austin sat, too. She drummed her manicured fingernails on her knee and stared up at me. I counted the stars in Orion’s belt.

  “Not as cold as last night, though,’’ Trey tried again.

  “The fire feels great.’’ Carlos rubbed his hands together. “¡Que bueno!’’

  “Is that Spanish?’’ Austin broke her silence.

  He nodded.

  “That’s what everybody speaks down in Miamuh,’’ Trey said.

  “What’s it mean?’’ Austin asked, ignoring Trey’s cultural commentary.

  “It’s like saying something is really good,’’ Carlos said. “¡Que bueno!’’

  “I love hearing men speak a foreign language. It’s so romantic.’’ She clapped her hands excitedly, like a little girl about to kiss Santa. “Say something else.’’

  “¿Qué quieres que te diga?’’

  “Ooooooh, what’s that mean?’’

  “It means, what do you want me to say?’’

  Carlos’ eyes crinkled into a smile. Austin laughed, too heartily I thought. My S’mores were struggling to come back up.

  “So,’’ her voice got low and sultry, “is what I’ve heard about Spanish men true?’’

  Trey rolled his eyes at me, then tugged his hat down low over his forehead.

  “I’m not Spanish. That’s someone from Spain. I’m Cuban, but I speak Spanish. And it depends on what you’ve heard.’’ Carlos smiled devilishly.

  “About how they’re extra, uhm . . . sexy.’’ She widened her blue eyes at him. “You know, in the bedroom?’’

  Carlos chuckled in a way I’d never heard before. Who was this guy?

  “I’m going to have to plead the Fifth on that line of questioning, niña. I blush easily.’’

  “Oh, you!’’ She gave his broad chest a playful shove. I could swear she licked her lips.

  I felt around on the ground until I found a big rock. Then I tossed it into the flames with enough force to send sparks all over the two people seated closest to the fire.

  “Sorry,’’ I said. “I think I’ve had enough campfire chat for tonight.’’

  Trey pushed back his hat and stood up. “Me, too.’’ He shot Austin a disgusted look. “Let me walk you to your tent, Mace. I’ve got a flashlight.’’

  I had one, too. But I decided to let Trey be gallant. I glanced over to see if Carlos noticed, but he seemed hypnotized by Austin. The hungry way he was looking at her was completely different than the protectiveness he’d shown toward Belle. Austin’s eyes smoldered. The firelight reflected like a halo off her dark hair, hypnotizing him. The witch.

  “Okay, then. Goodnight,’’ I said.

  Carlos mumbled, “ ’night,’’ barely looking at me.

  Trey took my arm as we left. I leaned into him, purposely putting my head on his shoulder. Just before we rounded a big oak, I stole a last glance backward. Carlos was plucking a bit of spattered ash off Austin’s cheek. As far as he was concerned, Trey and I could have been on the moon.

  ___

  I slammed a tin cup onto the hood of my Jeep. Yanking the top off a bottle of water, I swigged, rinsed, and spit into the bushes. Then I squirted more toothpaste onto my brush and started all over. I wanted to obliterate the taste of those stupid S’mores I’d shared with Carlos.

  Trey leaned against the horse trailer at my campsite, watching me.

  “Take it easy, Mace. You’re about to scrub the enamel right off your pearly whites.’’

  “MmmmFFfff,’’ I muttered, around a mouthful of brush and paste.

  “You don’t need to worry about Austin. Flirting comes natural to her. She hardly ever takes it to the next level.’’

  I spit. “Why would I be worried? I
couldn’t care less who she flirts with.’’

  “That’s not how it seemed to me. I saw the way you and your Miamuh friend were looking at each other when we came up. And then I saw how you looked leaving just now. If looks could kill, Austin would be bleeding from the throat.’’

  I got busy, drying my toothbrush on my shirttail.

  “You’re not going to deny there’s something between you, are you? A blind man could see you two have a history.’’

  “Ancient history.’’ I put the toothpaste and brush back in the tin cup.

  “He’s kind of slick.’’ Trey’s lip curled. Slick isn’t a compliment on the Cracker Trail. “How’d you ever hook up?’’

  “We met last summer when he took a detective’s job with the Himmarshee police department.’’

  “So, he’s a cop. Is he looking into what happened to Daddy? Has he told you what he thinks?’’

  “Carlos isn’t good about sharing information,’’ I said.

  “Yeah, but he must have said something.’’

  “Well, he did tell Belle he can get some tests run on your Daddy’s chili cup.’’

  “Belle?’’ Trey’s shoulders tensed. “What’s he got to do with her?’’

  Good question. I’d also like to know what he’s got to do with Austin. But that wasn’t a topic for Trey and me.

  “I think Carlos just feels sorry for your sister, Trey. He lost his wife a couple of years ago, so he knows what grief is. He offered to help. That’s all.’’

  Taking a step toward him, I put a hand on his forearm. His skin felt warm, especially as the night was growing colder. I watched him as he cast his eyes down to my hand. I was close enough to count his eyelashes, lush and black against his cheek. A tear glistened there.

  When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. “Daddy and I had our problems, everybody knows that. I just never knew that losing him would hurt so bad.’’

  I wiped at the tear, careful to avoid the jagged, bar-fight scratch on his cheek. He took my wrist, and then brought my palm to his lips. His soft kiss sent a shudder of pleasure south. The shudder evolved into a moan as Trey turned to my fingers, nipping first at one, then the next and the next. My knees became jelly. I had no idea the fingertips could be an erogenous zone.

  “You know,’’ he whispered, “I had a secret crush on you at Himmarshee High.’’

  Even with the electrifying effect of his hot breath in my ear, I knew that was ridiculous.

  “The football star, the hottest guy in school, crushing on me? Yeah, sure.’’

  “It’s true. I think it’s because you were the only girl who didn’t make a big deal over me. You were strong and independent, and almost as tall as me. I always wondered what it would be like to put my arm around you and hold you tight.’’

  Even if it wasn’t true, it sure sounded good. I lifted his hand to my lips.

  “I wouldn’t mind if you did hold me tight,’’ I finally said when I finished with his fingers.

  I could feel him hard against me as he folded me into his arms. I closed my eyes against the image of Carlos that intruded. I knew Trey wasn’t Mr. Right; but he was Mr. Right Now. He was ready for me. And I was ready for him, even if he wanted me right there, standing up against the horse trailer.

  I lifted my face, and he covered my lips with his. He tasted good; salty with a hint of the banana pudding from dessert. After my marathon tooth-scouring, I was at least confident my breath was minty fresh. I’d just begun to explore his tongue with my own when I heard a loud harrumph from the far side of the campsite.

  “You two might want to untangle yourselves.’’ Maddie’s disapproving scowl was clear, even in the lantern light. “Trey’s sister has gone missing.’’

  Maddie and I struggled to keep up with Trey. We might have lost him running through the woods if not for the bobbing light from the lantern in his hand.

  “Where’s he headed, Mace?’’ Maddie panted behind me. The beam of her flashlight skittered across the ground.

  “How should I know? He didn’t take the time to tell me.’’

  When Maddie announced Belle was missing, Trey pushed away from me like he’d been slapped. He grabbed the lantern off the ground and ran off without a word.

  I ducked under the low branch of a red maple sapling, and then heard Maddie hit it head-on.

  “Ouch! Crap!’’

  I slowed a bit to let my big sister catch up. “Sorry.’’

  “A little help would be nice, Mace. You’re the woodland creature, not me. You might warn me when one of your leafy friends is about to decapitate me.’’

  I could have told Maddie she’d do better in the woods—in most places, in fact—if she’d spend more time with her eyes open and her mouth shut. But I held my tongue.

  “I bet he’s headed to Belle’s campsite,’’ she said. “After I checked on Marty, I was passing by and saw Belle’s camp neighbors standing around like they didn’t know what to do next. They called out to ask me if I’d seen her anywhere.’’

  The bobbing light ahead came into a clearing, slowed, and then stopped.

  “Watch that skunk vine, Maddie.’’ I pointed my own light over my shoulder, illuminating a low-hanging net of green. “On your right.’’

  She ducked, and the noxious-smelling vine just brushed her shoulder.

  “Thanks.’’ Maddie leaned over, hands on knees, to catch her breath. She gazed toward the clearing. “I think that’s Belle’s site. I recognize the fancy RV.’’

  Trey stood with the lantern, talking to a man and woman next to a big RV, dark green with a white stripe. The door on the RV gaped open, spilling light from inside. A matching horse trailer butted up behind the big rig.

  Maddie and I joined the three of them.

  “Did she say anything to you? Anything at all?’’ Trey was questioning the woman, a frizzy-haired blonde with a saddle-leather face.

  “She never said a word. We were watching her, wondering whether we should come over and say something about y’all’s daddy. But then Bobby told me we should mind our own business, that if Belle wanted to talk, she’d come to us. Next time I looked over, her horse was still tied to the trailer, but your sister was nowhere in sight.’’

  “How long ago was this?’’ Trey said.

  “More than two hours now.’’ She turned to the heavy-set man next to her, Bobby presumably. “I told you we should have come over.’’

  Bobby studied the ground.

  “What can we do, Trey?’’ I asked. Concern was etched on his face.

  “I don’t want to make too much of this. Belle has a tendency to go off on her own.’’ He glanced toward her horse, a black-and-white gelding tethered to the trailer. “But I can’t imagine her leaving Poco like that.’’

  We all walked over to get a closer look at the horse. He stood patiently on a halter and rope, still wearing his saddle. His bridle was off, hung on a hook on the side of the trailer. Two buckets were on the ground, but neither of them held food or water.

  Trey shook his head. “She’d never go off without seeing Poco was taken care of. Belle’s crazy about horses. About all animals, really.’’

  “Well, we can see to him, at least.’’ I nodded toward the horse.

  Maddie and I each took a bucket. I shone my light into the back of the trailer until I found a plastic garbage pail filled with feed. Maddie shoved the water bucket at Bobby.

  “Here, you look like a big, strong thing,’’ she said. “Why don’t you take this and go make yourself useful at the water trough?’’

  I shot my sister a look.

  “Thanks, Bobby. We’d sure appreciate it if you would,’’ I called, as he hurried away like one of Maddie’s scared seventh-graders.

  “I want to help, too,’’ the frizzy blonde said to Trey.

  “You could keep an eye out to see if Belle comes back. Don’t let her be alone, if she does.’’

  I wondered why Trey feared his sister being left alone.

 
He continued, “Belle and I know these woods front to back. I’m going to go look for her. There is one other thing you could do, ma’am.’’

  “Jan,’’ the blonde said.

  “I’d be grateful, Jan, if this doesn’t get around camp. My sister is having an awful tough time. She might just have gone off to mourn. I don’t want a lot of gossip about what Belle’s done or hasn’t done, or how she is or isn’t.’’

  Trey sounded more protective than the average big brother. Had there been talk about Belle before?

  Jan made a zipping-the-lip motion. “You don’t have to worry about me telling tales. I’m not one of them gossipy-type women. And, Trey?’’

  He raised his brows at her, his eyes clouded with worry.

  “I do want to say how sorry I am about your daddy.’’ She fiddled nervously with her hair. “And about us not coming over to see about your sister. I should know better than to listen to Bobby.’’

  I quickly filled a shallow pail with sweet feed, and then started working at the cinch so I could pull off Poco’s saddle and blanket. I just about had it unfastened, when I noticed a brownish-red smear halfway down the horse’s neck. The stain stood out clearly against the white portion of his coat.

  My mind flashed back to the merlot soaking the sleeping bag in my ruined tent. I leaned in to sniff at Poco’s neck. This time the stain wasn’t red wine. It was blood.

  ___

  “Are you sure you don’t want to get some help?’’ I whispered to Trey as we crouched behind Poco, hidden from Maddie and Belle’s neighbors.

  I’d discreetly called him over, and we’d checked for cuts or scrapes. Poco was fine. The blood wasn’t his.

  “No. I can handle this,’’ he whispered back. “I don’t want Belle embarrassed by a lot of fuss if it turns out to be nothing. And I know where she likes to escape to. I want to look before we call in anyone.’’

  Maddie walked up with a dirt-streaked face and a mallet in her hand. “The ground didn’t want to cooperate, but Bobby and I got up Poco’s portable corral.’’

  This was a true feat, as my sister’s idea of physical exertion generally involves hefting the full slab of ribs at the Pork Pit.