I interrupted, “And what they find in that chili cup will tell us something about how he died.’’
“It will,’’ Marty agreed. “We also know that rattlesnake was planted in your jacket. All we have to do is find out who did it and why.’’
Marty made it sound simple. But I remembered the case from last summer. Nothing was simple about last summer.
___
I awoke with a start. I was sure it was Maddie, snoring. But when I listened, all I heard in the tent was the sound of my two sisters breathing. Marty’s breath was a gentle sigh. Maddie’s was raspy, but not loud enough to wake me from a deep sleep.
I sat up, shook the fuzz from my brain, and grabbed my watch from the toe of my boot. The luminescent dial read one-thirty. A horse whinnied. Palmetto fronds rustled in a slight breeze. And there was that sound again: A woman, sobbing.
A man spoke over the sobs. His words were hushed, indecipherable. But the masculine timbre of his voice and the angry tone were clear. He said something, and then the woman’s sobs intensified—a sad, strangled sound.
Grabbing the lantern from the corner of the tent where I’d left it, I turned it on. The light was dim, the batteries weak. Swinging the lamp inside the tent, I felt on the floor for my coat. I picked up Marty’s first, which would never fit. I found Maddie’s next, which would have to do.
The sobbing outside abruptly stopped. I wondered if, seeing my light, the man had clamped his hand over the woman’s mouth.
I hurried into my boots, leaving the laces undone.
“Maddie!’’ I shook her shoulder. “I heard something. Someone’s in trouble.’’
“Huh?’’ She covered her head with her pillow. “Go away, Mace.’’
I didn’t want to waste time rousing her. I crawled out the door of the tent, and started in the direction of the sobs. But the woods were quiet now. I stopped, straining to listen. I thought I heard brush moving in the distance, but it might have been the wind.
Suddenly, I whirled around at a familiar sound. An off-key whistler was approaching our tent, coming from the opposite direction from where I’d heard the sobs.
“Doc!’’ I hissed. “What are you doing out here?’’
“Who’s there?’’ He shined a flashlight in my direction.
“It’s Mace, Doc. I heard a woman crying, somewhere out there.’’ I pointed my lamp into the distance. “Did you hear anything?’’
“Not a peep.’’ He shook his head. “But I was coming the other way, from over by the campfire.’’ He turned and aimed his light behind him.
Together, we headed into the woods to look. We made big circles with our lights, but saw nothing. Whoever had been there was gone now. No voices broke the stillness; no sobs in the night.
“I wonder who it was?’’
Doc shrugged. “Probably some couple, having a lovers’ quarrel. Everybody’s acting peculiar on this trip. People at the campfire tonight were trading all sorts of stories. Somebody asked me about that chili cup, Mace. You should have never told people about your suspicions.’’
I picked a leaf from a hickory tree and started to shred it. “I didn’t, Doc. But you know how people are: Somebody overhears something, and the next thing you know it’s all over camp. Then you’ve got a crowd of people seeing clues everywhere, like they’re extras on CSI: The Cracker Trail.’’
Doc huffed, “Well, I don’t like it. All this speculation isn’t helping Lawton’s family one bit. And they need all the help they can get.’’
He crossed his arms and stared. I wasn’t going to defend myself, since I hadn’t done anything wrong. I was thinking of what to say next when Doc saved me the trouble.
“Did that policeman friend of yours get somebody to take the cup?’’
I nodded, and pulled another leaf off the tree. “All of this might be moot if the state lab doesn’t find anything. But a lot of strange things have been happening, and they all seem to start with Lawton’s death. I think it’d be foolish of us not to wonder why.’’
I looked up into the black sky, just in time to spot a shooting star. My wish was for a safe ride the rest of the way to Fort Pierce. And, I wished for things to start making sense. That last part I felt I had a little bit of control over.
“Why’d you leave the campfire, Doc?’’ I asked.
“I got sick of hearing people run their mouths. It was awful smoky, too.’’ He breathed deeply. “Thought I’d take a little walk and get some fresh air into my lungs before I turn in.’’
He shone his light on his wristwatch. “It’ll be time for breakfast before we know it. I just want to enjoy the night air and these beautiful stars for a little bit longer.’’
He accompanied me back to the tent, where we said our goodbyes.
As he left, murdering “Whistle While You Work,” I got into the tent. It wasn’t until later, as I was drifting off, that I wondered: Why would a man who claimed to detest the woods be out having a walk, enjoying all of nature’s glories?
My sisters and I spotted Audrey sneaking a smoke behind the food trailer. It was breakfast time. But another foggy morning would delay our grub, and the ride. We decided to corner her in the meantime, to see what we could find out about her boss, Johnny.
“Mornin’,’’ I said, as the three of us approached off Audrey’s right flank.
She jumped, hiding the hand with the cigarette behind her back. “You scared the crap out of me! If Johnny sees me smoking, he’ll kill me. I told him I quit two weeks ago.’’ She smiled guiltily, took a last drag, and carefully extinguished the half-smoked butt on the trailer’s metal hitch. Then she straightened the remainder and slipped it into a pocket of her server’s apron.
“For later?’’ Marty asked.
Audrey nodded, mischief lighting her eyes.
“You really should quit, you know. Smoking is a filthy habit,’’ Maddie said.
I ground my elbow into my sister’s side. “Don’t we all have habits we wish we didn’t have?’’ I smiled at Audrey. “All of us except Maddie, that is.’’
Marty got to the point before Maddie could insult Audrey again. “We were wondering, how’s Johnny’s hand? That looked like a pretty bad burn. Were you there when he did it?’’
“Occupational hazard.’’ Audrey shrugged. “It’s not the first time he burned himself on something hot. Won’t be the last.’’
“So you saw him do it?’’ I asked.
“No, but I’ve seen it before. He cusses like a drunken cowboy and blames everyone in sight. I’m glad I wasn’t around this time to catch the flak.’’
“What’s the story with you two?’’ Maddie asked.
Audrey raised her eyebrows. Marty pinched Maddie’s other side.
“I think what Maddie means is that you seem to have such an easy, joking way with Johnny.’’ My smile was warm. “You two must have worked together for a long time.’’
Audrey beamed, her feelings for her boss shining in her eyes. “It’ll be twenty years this June. I just planned to work at the restaurant the summer after high school. But Johnny needed me, so I stayed on. And on, and on.’’
What was the best way to phrase my next question? I wished I’d rehearsed with Marty.
“So you started working for Johnny right around the time Barbara Bramble died.’’ I decided on the open-ended approach. “I know he was awfully close to her.’’
Pain flickered briefly across Audrey’s face. “It about killed Johnny when Barb died.’’
“So tragic, too. An accident like that,’’ Maddie said, finally climbing down off her high horse.
Audrey’s face hardened. “An accident, yes. That’s what everybody said.’’ She took the cigarette from her apron and re-lit it.
Please don’t say anything mean about smoking, I sent a silent plea to Maddie.
Marty jumped in, “You sound like you don’t believe what everybody says.’’
Audrey took a big drag and then lifted her face to exhale, aiming the sm
oke to the sky. Maddie coughed and waved her arm. I gave her a warning glance.
Audrey examined the glowing tip of her cigarette. “I don’t like to speak ill of the dead.’’
“Lawton or Barbara?’’ I asked.
She was silent, staring at the ground.
“Audrey?’’ Marty prodded, a gentle hand on her wrist.
“Honey, neither one of them is around to protest,’’ Maddie whispered, “and you can talk to us in confidence. I’m a school principal. That’s almost like being a priest.’’
Giving a short nod, Audrey started to speak. “I guess it depends on what you think is a worse sin: committing suicide, or pushing someone to it.’’
I tried to mask my shock. So did Maddie. But Marty’s face was troubled.
“Johnny told me Lawton was just awful to Barb. He cheated. He cut her down. He may have even hit her a time or two. She was miserable in that marriage. She’d get drunk, call Johnny on the phone, and cry. Toward the end, Lawton had just about forgotten those two little kids.’’
Audrey tapped the cigarette ash, watching it fall. How hard things at home must have been for Trey and Belle.
“When Lawton went on that business trip to Tallahassee, he didn’t even bother hiding the fact he was taking his girlfriend. Just about shoved it in Barb’s face, Johnny said. That was when Barb had ‘the accident,’ as everyone calls it. But Johnny never believed it. Neither did her sister. Barb had told both of them many times how she hated her life, hated what she’d become. She told them she was going to end the misery for herself and everyone else.’’
She took a long drag. The smoke escaped in a cloud.
“That night, she finally did. She threw herself down those steps on purpose. And Lawton, may he burn in hell, pushed her to it.’’
Audrey dropped her cigarette and ground it into the dirt with her boot.
“Johnny’s hated Lawton ever since. And he’s hated himself, too. He’s always felt like he should have won Barb back. If he had, she’d still be alive.’’
“And Johnny would be happily married,’’ Maddie pointed out helpfully.
“Yes.’’ Audrey nodded. “I guess he would.’’
“What I can’t figure out,’’ I said, “is if Johnny disliked Lawton so much, why’d he go into business with him?’’
“I think Johnny loved his restaurant more than he hated Lawton. He was about to lose it. He needed to pay off his loan. And Lawton had more money than God. Johnny should have known better, of course. You lie down with dogs, you’re gonna get fleas. Financially, Lawton took advantage of him. Just like he had when he stole Barb.’’
My sisters and I were quiet, mulling over what Audrey said. We could hear voices from the food line, growing impatient. Somebody cracked a whip to pass the time. Audrey stooped to pick up her cigarette butt, and then froze at a bellow from the other side of the trailer.
“Audrey! Where you at, woman? These people are going to start eatin’ the plastic plates if we don’t get this food out soon.’’
Her smile was apologetic. “Looks like I’m being paged.’’
I thought of one last thing we needed to know: “Hey, thanks for lunch yesterday, Audrey. Those sausage sandwiches were great,’’ I said. “But I never saw Johnny. Did you put on the whole spread yourself?’’
“Hell, no. Johnny calls himself the Sausage Sultan. He’d never trust me to grill. He did disappear for a while, though. I remember, because that fellow with diabetes needed his artificial sugar to make sweet tea. We couldn’t find the packages, and we couldn’t find Johnny. Poor guy had to drink his iced tea unsweetened.’’
“Audrey!’’ Johnny yelled again. “I better not find you sucking on a cancer stick!’’
She took a breath mint from her apron and popped it in her mouth.
“I’m coming, you old crab!’’ she shouted. “Besides, the way these folks have been shovelin’ it in, it won’t hurt ’em a bit to wait.’’
The morning air smelled of coffee perking and bacon frying. Mules brayed, one answering the other, as the wagons gathered. Frank Sinatra crooned “The Best Is Yet to Come” as Sal’s Caddy rolled into view.
Mama sat in the back seat like the golden car was her personal chariot. Pillows propped up her ankle. Her lemon-hued cowgirl hat outshone the fogged-over sun.
“Mornin’ girls,’’ she called from the window. “Hope I’m not too late for pancakes.’’
The car kept coming, rocking its way across the pasture. People and horses darted out of the way. Maybe Sal mistook the meal trailer for a fast-food drive-thru. I waved my arms at him to stop.
“Stay right there,’’ I yelled. “We’ll get your coffees.’’
Johnny had put out the big serving urns. He knew the campers would wait for food, but they’d storm the trailer if deprived of caffeine. After we got cups for everyone, we joined Mama and Sal.
“We’re still waiting for breakfast, Mama,’’ Marty said.
“This fog has set the whole morning schedule back,’’ Maddie added.
Mama sipped her coffee. “Ooooh, Sal, they gave me yours!’’ She puckered her lips. “There’s hardly any sugar in here at all.’’
He took a swallow from the cup in his hand. “You’re right, Rosie. This one could rot false teeth.’’
They traded cups. Then, Sal lifted camp chairs for us from the Caddy’s big trunk. We set in to wait, and he went off to find a fellow New Yorker he’d met at last night’s campfire. No doubt they’d discuss how we poor, dumb Southerners couldn’t do anything right.
My sisters and I filled in Mama on what we’d learned from Audrey.
“I guess Johnny really did hate Lawton,’’ Mama said after we finished. “I found out what Trey meant, yelling about that fight they’d had. Seems Lawton threatened to call in his loan, which would have put Johnny out of business. That was two days before Lawton died. Everything between them just came to a head.’’
“How’d you find out?’’ Maddie asked.
“Well, Trey told Belle about how they’d rolled around in the dirt, fighting. She told Carlos, and he told Sal, who told me.’’ Mama shook her head. “Imagine, girls! At their age.’’
Marty lowered her voice to a whisper. “Johnny must have been awful mad.’’
I glanced over my shoulder for eavesdroppers. “Mad enough to commit murder?’’
I didn’t get an answer. We all just looked at each other over the tops of our coffee cups.
Maddie finally broke the silence. “Well, if Johnny didn’t kill Lawton, there’s no shortage of other suspects.’’
I nodded. “Starting with Trey. He wouldn’t be the first son who couldn’t bear living in his father’s long shadow.’’
“No way.’’ Mama’s voice was full of conviction. “That boy loved his daddy. You can see it in his eyes.’’
Maddie said, “The young widow looks most promising to me. Money’s a strong motive, and she probably stands to inherit a lot.’’
Marty cleared her throat, like an apology. “I’m not so sure, Maddie. People with as much money as the Brambles usually have wills and trusts and limited partnerships. They have all kinds of ways to squirrel it away. It’s not like Lawton would have had everything in a joint savings account with his and Wynonna’s name on it.’’
We thought on that for a while.
“I wouldn’t put anything past that Austin.’’ Mama sipped, looking thoughtful. “She set her cap for Trey and the Bramble family fortune. Maybe she didn’t want to wait for nature to take its course with Lawton.’’
I was more than willing to pile on about Austin. But instead I threw another name into the mix. “What do y’all think about Belle?’’
Did I want their opinion because Belle’s daddy died, or because Carlos seemed so taken with her?
Maddie snorted. “Belle’s too fragile, Mace. She’s a weakling. That stepmother of hers could knife her in the heart and then order in lunch. And, remember, Wynonna was the one who insisted Mama
should ride Shotgun. She had something up her sleeve, I know it.’’
Mama said, “Honey, you can’t blame Wynonna for those bees.’’
“That’s assuming the bees were an accident, which I’m not sure they were,’’ I said.
We told Mama what Marty saw on Johnny’s hand.
“I’m still voting for Wynonna.’’ Maddie pointed her cup at us like a teacher summing up a lesson. “Maybe she found out Lawton was cheating. We already know the man had a history as a hound dog.’’
Marty said, “And that brings us right back to Johnny Adams’ hatred of Lawton.’’
A far-away look came into Mama’s eyes. “Johnny was the sweetest thing when we were all kids. There was one real unpopular boy at our school. He never had clean clothes, or shoes that fit, because his family was so poor. I remember how nice Johnny was to him. One January, when it was real cold, Johnny brought him a coat to wear. He claimed he outgrew it; but anyone could tell it was brand new.’’
She stared into her coffee like the coat was reflected there.
“It made the rest of us ashamed for how we’d treated that poor child. Girls, I just hate to think a kind person like that could be capable of murder.’’
I was imagining Johnny’s kindness to that unfortunate child a half-century ago, when a voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Sounds like you four detectives have the case nearly solved.’’ Carlos had snuck up behind us, his hand touching just a moment on the small of my back.
“No way,’’ I answered, hoping the others hadn’t noticed the gesture.
“No kidding.’’
He didn’t have to agree so readily, I thought.
“What you have so far sounds like idle gossip and speculation. I’ve warned you about that sort of thing before, Mace.’’
“Warning received, Investigator Know-it-All.’’
“Would you like to know what real police work revealed? The kind of police work that utilizes science and evidence?’’
“Oh, yes! Do tell.’’ I fluttered my eyelashes in my best Scarlett O’Hara imitation. “We’re just a bunch of silly women, hanging on every word from a smart man like you.’’
Mama Rides Shotgun Page 18
