I looked at my sisters. Marty gave me a conspiratorial wink. Maddie didn’t seem to be paying attention. She’d pulled one of the white plastic containers aside. “No Sauce’’ was scrawled across the top with a heavy black marker. “The plain chicken breast is mine.’’ She pointed to the box. “My stomach’s still not feeling right.’’
Mama’s brow immediately furrowed, but Marty shushed us all with a whisper. “Here comes Prudence! Try to behave, would you? And let’s use the plates and the silver. We don’t want to reinforce her worst stereotypes about Southerners.’’
“Agreed.’’ Mama put a finger to her own lips, kissed it, and then placed it gently over my big mouth. “No sniping tonight, honey. Best behavior.’’
“I second that,’’ said Maddie. She poured herself a glass of soda water. When she sipped, a loud burp escaped.
“What did I just say?’’ Mama scolded. “Manners, Maddie!’’
Prudence’s face was flushed, and a bit damp. She’d been in the bathroom for quite a while. Had she been crying? I thought of how I’d feel if one of my sisters died. A natural death would be bad enough. But to know Marty or Maddie had suffered at the hands of some sex maniac? I don’t think I could stand that.
Mama finished dishing up the food. Marty was laying out plates. Maddie followed with silverware and a folded napkin for each place setting.
“What would you like to drink?’’ I asked Prudence. “We have sweet iced tea, wine, beer, or soda.’’
“Maybe I should stick to soda. I should have my wits about me, in case the police call with news.’’
She looked with longing at a box of sweet pink wine Mama had just hefted out of the refrigerator. Not waiting for Prudence to amend her order, Mama said, “One little glass isn’t going to hurt you, honey. You can dilute it with a bit of fizzy water or lemon-lime soda, if you’d like.’’
Relief flashed across Prudence’s face. “No, the wine alone will do quite nicely.’’
Mama handed over the glass, filled to the rim. Prudence didn’t protest that it was too much, or that she didn’t usually partake. She steadied the glass in both hands, raised it to her mouth, and took a huge swallow. Marty, Mama, and I exchanged a glance. Maddie didn’t seem to notice.
As Mama and Marty finished pouring their drinks, I watched Maddie. She smoothed her napkin, tucking it under her plate. Then she straightened her fork, which she’d already placed at a precise angle. She pulled her smart phone from her pocket, and checked for messages. With a small shake of her head, she put it away.
This was the longest I’d ever seen my sister last without filching a bite or two of food before a meal began.
“Let’s eat,’’ Mama said, as she sat. She reached across the table and the four of us joined hands. Prudence, who’d begun unfolding her napkin, looked wary.
“We normally say a blessing, honey.’’ Mama nodded for Maddie and me to include her in the circle. “Do you mind?’’
Her face reddened. “Of course not. Please, do go ahead.’’
Mama thanked the Lord for the food she was about to serve. Hopefully, He didn’t subtract points for the fact she hadn’t actually cooked it. She thanked him for bringing her girls together, and for showing Prudence the path to her home. Then she finished up.
“Please God, watch over this dear girl. Help her overcome her sorrow. Please guide the authorities in their efforts to find out what happened to her sister, Camilla. And, if you should wish it, please make Mace do what she ought to and use her skills to find the murderer.’’
I aimed a sharp kick at Mama’s shin. Too late. Prudence dropped our hands and lifted her face. She stared at me, those big eyes filled with questions.
“What does your mother mean? Can you find out what happened to Camilla? Can you find out who killed my sister?’’
In the silence that followed, I heard Maddie take another sip of soda water. Marty’s foot tapped nervously. The Elvis Presley clock on the wall made a brushing sound as the singer’s famous pelvis swung back and forth. Mama’s smile was as innocent as a baby’s.
Finally, Marty spoke. “Mace is an amateur detective.’’
“She’s solved several murders—with my help, of course.’’ Mama patted her hair.
“I’m not sure the cops would put it that way.’’ I was thinking of one particular cop. “They might say I’ve stuck my nose into some cases where it didn’t belong.’’
“She’s being modest.’’ Marty offered our guest the platter with the chicken and ribs. Prudence took a serving of each, dousing them with barbecue sauce. “Mace has a different way of looking at the world—’’
“You can say that again.’’ After interrupting, Maddie added nothing more.
I missed her jibes, the normal Maddie behavior. This Maddie? Quiet? Worried? Hurting? This wasn’t normal. I wanted normal back.
Our little sister also seemed to be waiting—in vain—for Maddie to toss a zinger. “Anyway,’’ Marty finally continued, “Mace notices things other people don’t. She usually arrives at a conclusion of who might have done the crimes before the police do.’’
“Crimes, plural?’’ Prudence tackled her chicken leg with knife and fork.
“My family is exaggerating. I’ve gotten lucky a couple of times.’’
“Four,’’ Mama said.
A bite of drumstick paused midway to Prudence’s mouth. “How common are killings in Himmarshee?’’
“The last few years have been unusually murderous,’’ I said.
“How fascinating. I’d love to talk to you some more about your methods. What kinds of things do you look for? What clues tell you someone might be capable of murder?’’
She hoisted her empty wine glass, eyebrows raised in a question. Marty refilled it. It appeared Prudence had stopped worrying about how sober she’d be if the police should call.
“Why don’t you tell us something about your sister?’’ Marty smoothly changed the subject from Himmarshee’s recent history of homicides. “Were you identical twins?’’
Prudence took a swallow of wine. Her eyes welled with tears. Marty looked stricken.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring you pain.’’
“It isn’t your fault, Marty. I’m feeling a bit guilty. I’m angry at myself that a petty argument led us to become estranged.’’
“What was the fight about?’’
Now, that was the Maddie I knew: To the point. Short on sensitivity. Prudence frowned at Maddie’s blunt question.
“It was just something between sisters. Our bond as twins wasn’t broken; merely frayed.’’ She pressed her lips together, gaining composure. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about that. I’d rather remember how close we once were: like peas in a pod, everyone said. We even spoke our own secret language as children.’’
“That’s not uncommon with twins, I’ve heard,’’ Mama said.
“My sister was always so clever. Far smarter than I …’’
Prudence worked on the rib she’d taken, slicing off a bite of meat from the bone. Ribs were usually eaten with the hands, chicken drumsticks, too. But none of us pointed that out. She poured on more sauce; sawed off another piece. “My, that’s quite good!’’
“Anyway,’’ she finished that rib and continued, “that’s why I can’t understand …” Her words tapered off as she helped herself to a couple of spoonfuls of potato salad.
“What?’’ Mama prodded.
“Well, that outfit,” Prudence said. “That was not the outfit of a smart girl; a girl who was top of her class.”
I came to her sister’s defense. “Now, we don’t know how or why she was wearing those clothes—’’
“I do,’’ Prudence said. “I know a bit about these kinds of things. Leather wear and a fetish collar, complete with metal O ring; being submissive. It’s sick is what it is. I thought it was something Camilla had put behind her.’’
“Maybe that clothing wasn’t her choice,’’ Marty
said.
“Sad to say, it probably was. She took risks, romantically speaking.’’ Her voice went cold. “Sexually speaking. I did not approve. For such a clever girl, Camilla could be quite stupid.’’
What seemed like raw hatred flickered in her eyes, but the look was gone so quickly I wasn’t even sure I saw it. A strained silence settled over the table. Prudence stared at her plate. When she finally looked up, her expression was pleasant. Neutral. She gestured at the meat platter.
“Do you suppose I could have another one of those ribs, and some more of that sweet red sauce?’’
Until then, I hadn’t noticed she’d blotted up every bit of her barbecue sauce with a piece of cornbread. Camilla Law’s grieving twin seemed to have an unusually hearty appetite.
fifteen
A high-pitched sound penetrated Mama’s front door—like a dentist’s drill crossed with a power saw.
“Mama, if you don’t make Teensy stop that hideous barking, I’m going to skin him alive and make a couch pillow out of his coat.’’
Maddie must have been feeling better. She was back to slinging zingers.
“He’s just happy to be home, honey. By the way, if you ever harm one hair on my dog’s head, I’ll—’’
“—Give her a medal?’’ I finished the sentence.
I heard the key turn in the door. The little dog skittered across the tiled entryway, bounded through the living room, and burst into the kitchen. He ignored everything but his mission: To reunite with his mistress. Teensy rounded a kitchen chair, performed an aerial launch over my outstretched legs, and leaped onto Mama’s lap.
“Just look at my precious little boy.’’ She held the Pomeranian aloft, waving a paw at Maddie and me. “How could you girls even joke about hurting him?’’
“I wasn’t joking,’’ Maddie said.
Dinner was done, but we still lingered at the kitchen table. Pleading exhaustion, Prudence had left as soon as she finished her dessert. Considering how much she’d drank, it was a good thing Marty offered to drive Prudence in her rental car to her motel. I was glad she was the sister keeping her company.
Sal’s Bronx boom echoed from the living room. “Could you believe that scrawny mope? Offering to arm wrestle me?’’
I heard Carlos’s more subdued tone. “It’s the typical barroom correlation between number of beers and lack of sound judgment.’’
Even the timbre of his voice gave me a little shiver of desire. Mama was right. If I was smart, I wouldn’t do anything to burn what we had together.
“We’re in here, Sally.’’ Turning in her chair, Mama quickly surveyed her reflection in the countertop toaster. She Apricot Iced. Then, she offered the lipstick to me. In vain, of course.
“Well, at least wipe the barbecue sauce off your face,’’ she hissed.
“Carlos likes barbecue sauce.’’
Maddie laughed, and the sound warmed my heart.
I handed Mama a banana from the fruit bowl on the table. “Quick, take the peel off this and drop it down your blouse.’’
She cocked her head in a question.
“I told Maddie how good that rotten banana looked on you when we were digging through the dump for your ring.’’
“Shhh!’’ She craned her neck to look toward the living room. “Don’t remind Sal. He’s none too happy his ring nearly got trashed.’’
The ceramic ducks on Mama’s display shelves shook as Sal’s heavy footsteps led the way to the kitchen. “There’s my gorgeous gal!’’ Gawgeous, he said. “Am I the luckiest husband in the world, or what?’’
Mama jumped up for a hug. Sal gave her a long, wet-sounding kiss. Trapped in the center of their tight embrace, Teensy squirmed to get free. Sal placed the dog on the floor and went in for a second smooch, this one even more passionate.
“Get a room, would you?’’ Maddie said.
Carlos squeezed around Sal to put a hand on my shoulder. When
I lifted my face for a more personal greeting, he pointed a finger toward my chin. “You’ve got something orangey-red all over there.’’
Mama’s smile was victorious as she handed me a damp napkin.
I wiped the remnants of dinner off my face while the two men got settled at the table. Teensy hopped onto Sal’s lap, and was soon snoring atop the spacious expanse of the big man’s stomach. Carlos asked, “How’d it go with the victim’s sister?’’
“Prudence,’’ I said. “And the dead girl’s name was Camilla.’’
“I’m working the case. I know their names.’’
“So why don’t you use them?’’
“Carlos don’t mean nothing by it, Mace. Sometimes cops depersonalize the people involved in crimes—both the victims and the perps. It makes the job easier. Right, partner?’’
Carlos’s only answer was a curt nod.
“Well,’’ I said, “we just spent a couple of hours with Prudence. It seems to me the death of her sister was quite personal.’’
Carlos glowered at me. “I think I know that better than most.’’
I felt a sharp jab on the top of my foot. Mama should have stomped even harder with that kitten heel. I deserved it, for pointing out that murder is personal to a man who lost his wife in a vicious homicide.
Maddie rescued me. “Prudence told us she and Camilla were estranged.’’
Carlos lifted an eyebrow. “How estranged?’’ I could almost hear the wheels and gears grinding in his detective’s brain.
We caught him up with what she’d said—how their twin bond was strained but not torn, and how she didn’t want to elaborate on exactly why. “Did anyone else notice that mean look on her face when she talked about how Camilla was dressed?’’ I asked.
I was met with blank stares from Mama and my sisters. “I did think it was strange she wanted to grill Mace about solving murders,’’ Marty said.
“Prudence had the tough task today of officially identifying her sister’s body,’’ Carlos said. “She took it pretty hard.’’
“Has the medical examiner determined how Camilla died?’’ I asked.
Carlos exchanged a look with Sal. “It’ll all be in the newspaper tomorrow.’’
“My cousin Henry already told us what he’d discovered from his sources at the courthouse,’’ I said. “She was strangled, right?’’
Another curt nod.
Sal gently petted the sleeping dog. “Strangulation often has sexual overtones.’’
Flashing back to the racy getup Camilla wore, I fought the urge to say, Gee Sal, ya think?
Mama stood up and began clearing the table. “I’m putting a moratorium tonight on any more talk about murder, or sex.’’
“Sex, too?’’ Sal grinned at her. “I hope that doesn’t mean you’re sending me to sleep on the couch. We haven’t been married long enough for that.’’
Mama snapped a dish towel at him. “Stop it, you!’’
Teensy awoke with a bark.
“We have leftovers,’’ Mama said. “Are you two hungry?’’
Sal licked his lips. “Starving—’’
“—We already ate,’’ Carlos said at the same time.
All of us laughed, except Maddie. The look on her face was serious. “Everything in this world seems to come down to sex one way or the other, doesn’t it? Wanting it. Getting it. Doing the wrong thing because of it.’’
Sal cocked his head at my sister. Strait-laced Maddie voluntarily bringing up S-E-X? Carlos and Mama aimed puzzled frowns her way, too. I was the only one at the table with any idea why Maddie’s mind was on sex.
The quizzical stares didn’t seem to register with Maddie. Frowning, she took out her phone again. Her face darkened as she began typing out a message, thumbs striking the keypad like angry pistons.
sixteen
“Just me. I’m back.’’
Marty’s voice from the front porch kick-started Teensy’s engines again. The dog darted to the door. In addition to shattering eardrums with his piercing barks, he s
eemed intent on protecting the home and the helpless humans inside. To wit: One hardened police detective from the mean streets of Miami; a three-hundred-plus-pound tough guy from Da Bronx; a principal whose raised eyebrow could silence a cafeteria full of middle-schoolers; an outdoorswoman and sometime alligator trapper; and a four-foot-eleven-inch dynamo whose dainty feminine stature belied an iron will.
“Teensy! Quiet!’’ Sal’s shout was so loud it made waves of the sweet pink wine inside Mama’s vibrating glass. It stopped the barks
in mid-yap. Teensy let out one final protest whine.
“Good dog! Everybody’s safe.’’ Marty scooped up the Pomeranian and brought him to the kitchen. Her face glowed a bit from hiking a mile or so back from the hotel in the warm evening. “You are SUCH a brave boy.’’
Wagging his whole body, Teensy dog-kissed Marty’s face from chin to forehead.
“Gross,’’ I said.
“Don’t encourage him,’’ Maddie added.
“Don’t listen to your sisters, Marty.’’ Mama chucked Teensy under the chin. “Only truly mean and awful people don’t like dogs.’’
“Oh, I like dogs, Mama. I just don’t like that dog.’’ I pointed at the offending animal wiggling in Marty’s arms.
“He’s not so bad.’’ Carlos reached out a hand to pat Teensy. Letting out a yip, the dog bit him on the thumb.
¡Dios mío, that hurt!’’ He narrowed his eyes. “Little bastard.’’
When Sal and I laughed, both Mama and Carlos scowled at us.
“Why don’t we all move into the living room?’’ said Marty, making peace. “Teensy can stay here and defend the kitchen against any further intruders.’’
Grabbing a bottle of soda water, Maddie followed the men out of the kitchen. Mama twisted the spigot on the box of wine, adding a half-glass more for Marty and her. I took three beers from the ’fridge for Sal, Carlos, and me.
“Uh-oh, Mama’s having more wine,’’ Marty said. “Somebody keep an eye on her ring.’’
Meeting Marty’s jibe with a frown, Mama spooned up some premium dog food for Teensy. When he skittered over to his bowl, she slid a doggie gate across the kitchen entryway and made her exit. Loud enough for us to hear her in the living room, she said, “It’s a shame the only one of my babies who never criticizes me has to stay in the kitchen.’’
Mama Gets Trashed (A Mace Bauer Mystery) Page 8
