“I guess I better call county Animal Control about Emma Jean’s cat.’’ Donnie reached out to steady me as the cat twined around my ankles.
“Leave it be.’’ The words out of my mouth surprised me. “I’ll take care of the cat, Donnie.’’
He stopped and stared. “I’d have pegged you as a dog person, Mace. You don’t seem like the kitty-cat type.’’
I bent to stroke the cat’s head. It rose on its hind legs to meet my hand. “This one’s kind of growing on me. I’d always heard Siamese were unfriendly. But this one’s more like a dog than a cat. Maybe there was a Labrador retriever somewhere in its gene pool.’’
The cat had eaten. I decided to leave it, in case Emma Jean came back. If she still hadn’t shown by tomorrow, I’d return to collect it with one of the animal carriers I use for possums.
“I’m going to hit the road, Donnie. I’m beat. We’ve had way too much excitement in our little town in these last few days.’’
“You said it. What do you think happened to Emma Jean?’’
As we walked to my car, I filled him in on her tire iron and threats of violence.
“That’s what seems weird,’’ I said. “If anyone was to go missing or get hurt, I’d have bet on Emma Jean as the culprit, not the victim.’’
Donnie’s brow was furrowed.
“What is it?’’ I asked.
“It seems strange Emma Jean was in a rage about being cheated on.’’
“Yeah, I know. But Mama told me that relationship with Jim Albert was a real whirlwind. How well can you really know anyone after just a few months?’’
Donnie shone the light around the empty yard. “That’s not what I mean, Mace. Word is Emma Jean herself was running around. She was cheating on Jim Albert.’’
My mouth dropped open. I finally shut it, afraid I’d catch a bug drawn by the flashlight.
“You know how my mom moved to the south side of the lake? She works at that fish camp restaurant in Hendry County.’’
“The Gigged Frog?’’
“Affirmative,’’ Donnie answered, with a nod right out of Cops. “Mom says she’s seen Emma Jean in there. She takes a booth in the bar, way in the back. Then a dark-haired, younger guy comes in to join her. He’s not just a friend, either. The two of them end up making out like high-school kids.’’
“Your mom doesn’t know him?’’
Donnie shook his head.
“Maybe it’s an old boyfriend. And they quit going out once she got engaged.’’
“Mom says no. After Emma Jean was flashing her diamond ring last week at work, I mentioned her engagement. You know what my mom said?’’
I shook my head.
“Not two nights earlier, she’d been into the Frog, cuddling up with her lover boy. Mom said she pitied the poor sap who had agreed to marry Emma Jean Valentine.’
“Detective Martinez.’’
His telephone bark was more warning than greeting. I had a fleeting urge to hang up my cell without speaking. Then I remembered: I’m not in junior high.
“It’s Mace Bauer.’’
“Again?”
My resolve to be nice wavered. “You seem busy, Detective. I’m sorry to bother you.’’
“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” He backed down a little, allowing a flicker of warmth into his voice. “I’m just about done out here. So, I do have a few minutes to talk. By the way, you left so fast I never had the chance to thank you for calling about Emma Jean’s car.’’
“You’re welcome.’’ We were setting new personal records for polite discourse.
He cleared his throat. “I also appreciate that you knew enough not to disturb anything.’’
“Thanks.’’
Slapping at a mosquito, I wished I hadn’t given him the bug spray before I re-armored myself. Full darkness had fallen. Squadron members of an insect air force were about to pick up the VW and take me to their private lair. Donnie was gone, running late for work at the jail. Even the cat had deserted me, slipping through a pet door into Emma Jean’s house. I sat in her yard in the car, contemplating how to play Martinez. And, if I’m honest, how interesting it might be to play with Martinez. I banished that thought and got down to business.
“Emma Jean is the reason I called again,’’ I said. “Do you think we could meet somewhere, maybe grab a cup of coffee? I want to run some things by you. There’s a lot that doesn’t make sense.’’
A bullfrog croaked in Taylor Slough on Martinez’s end of the phone.
“Things aren’t supposed to make sense to you. You’re not the investigator in the case.’’
Trying not to be offended, I said nothing.
“I’m hot and muddy and all I want is a cool shower after I leave here,’’ he continued. “If you know something I should know, why don’t you just tell me right now over the phone?’’
Because, I thought, you’ll get pissed off and hang up when I try to pump you for information.
“Well, I could do that.’’ I pretended to mull it over. “But what I really want to do is sound out some theories. Some might be useful; others might be useless. I thought it might be nice to sit somewhere cool and relax while we talk. I can hear the bugs buzzing out there through the phone. Wait … was that a big ol’ drop of sweat I just heard, splashing on the mouthpiece?’’
He laughed. I had him.
“Could be,’’ he said. “Dios mío! How do you stand it up here? Miami’s hot; but at least we get a break when the sun goes down. We almost always have a little breeze from the sea. It’s like a furnace here. And it runs on swelter, 24/7.’’
“I’ve got the perfect place,’’ I said. “How ’bout we meet at the Dairy Queen?’’
There was a long silence. A night heron squawked on Martinez’s end. The bird was probably hunting for bream in Taylor Creek.
“I’d think you might be uncomfortable at the Dairy Queen,’’ he finally said. “Since your mother was carted off in a police car from there less than a week ago.’’
More flies with honey, I reminded myself. “Oh, that’s water under the bridge,’’ I said generously. “Besides, I’d be no more uncomfortable than you might be, considering you falsely arrested one of their most loyal customers for murder.’’
“Accessory to murder.’’ I heard a slap and what sounded like a curse in Spanish. “Coño!’’ I hoped it was directed at the mosquito, and not at me. “I thought you said that spray was strong?’’ Martinez said. “They’re eating me alive out here.’’ Another slap.