I handed over a light, along with a wad of toilet paper. “Oh for God’s sake, Maddie. You don’t need to walk all the way to creation and back to find the portable potties. Just use that clump of brush out there by the horse trailer.’’
“I will not!’’ She summoned her most dignified tone. “Principals do not squat in the bushes, Mace. Suppose a student spotted me? They’d snap a picture on their cell phone and it’d be all over YouTube by first period tomorrow: Me, doing my business. It’d be tough after that to exert my authority.’’
As Maddie stalked off into the darkness, Marty and I snuggled into our sleeping bags. It made me think of when we were kids, sharing a room with twin beds. Maddie, of course, had claimed her own room.
“I’ve been thinking about all the things that have happened, Mace. If Austin is responsible, like you say, then how does that tie in with your notion about Lawton being murdered?’’
It was too dark to see the confusion on Marty’s face. But I knew it was there. I was equally as confused.
“I haven’t put all the pieces together yet, Marty. Maybe Austin’s not just jealous about Trey and me. Maybe she had something to do with Lawton’s death, and she doesn’t want me around to find out what it was.’’
I heard Marty’s soft breathing as she pondered that possibility.
“Then how do those bees figure in, Mace? And Johnny Adams? And Wynonna and Trey?’’ Her voice had an uncharacteristic note of skepticism. “And what if Lawton’s death was just a heart attack? What if everything is completely unrelated?’’
Marty’s question hung in the air. The horses noisily munched hay outside in their temporary paddock. Bullfrogs croaked from a far pond. Night creatures scrabbled in dry brush.
“I don’t know, Marty,’’ I finally answered her. “I was a lot more willing before last summer to believe in unrelated coincidences. Don’t you remember all the things Jim Albert’s killer did to scare us off the trail?’’
“I do. I also remember the nasty notes and threats, and you haven’t gotten any of those on this ride. Why do you think that is, Mace?’’
Truthfully, I didn’t know what to think. Maybe I was over-reacting.
“I mean . . .’’ Marty breathed deeply, then continued, “Shotgun running away with Mama might have been an accident, and maybe Johnny really did burn his hand. And maybe Austin didn’t mean to hit Val. And Trey and Wynonna both deny there’s something between them; maybe they’re not lying. And suppose some teenager thought it’d be funny to rip apart your sleeping bag and soak it with red wine . . .’’
“Okay, enough! Now you’re giving me a headache.’’
She patted my cheek. She was wearing mittens.
“Sorry, Mace. I guess we only know a couple of things for sure: Lawton Bramble is dead . . .’’
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?