“Uh-oh,’’ Maddie said.
Stroking her hair, he murmured something private into her ear. The bacon and biscuit in my stomach did a double back flip.
“You should go over there, Mace.’’ A worried frown creased Marty’s brow.
“Honey, she can’t do that now. It would look wrong,’’ Mama whispered.
Belle gazed up into Carlos’ face. He ran a thumb across her teary cheek. I remembered the feel of his hand stroking me.
“I’m outta here,’’ I said, pushing my breakfast plate onto Maddie’s lap.
“Mace, where . . .’’ Marty started to say.
“Let her go, honey,’’ Mama interrupted. “She’s off to throw some rocks into water.’’
___
I picked up a handful of stones and tossed them into the high brush as I walked through the woods. Swoosh. Swoosh. Swoosh. It wasn’t as satisfying as tossing them in a creek. But I didn’t have much time to sit and stew. The fog was lifting. The ride was about to start. And I had to finish getting Val ready.
As I passed another campsite, I overheard two riders with out-of-state license tags on their trailer discussing Lawton’s death: “My money’s on that son. The boy probably got drunk and did him in.’’
One handed the other a horse brush. “Nope. There’s a gal on the ride who’s some kind of detective. She says the father was poisoned. Poison isn’t a man’s weapon. It’s a woman’s. Everybody knows that.’’
I had a momentary urge to update them. But I passed by, keeping my nose out of it.
Val raised her head as I came into our campsite. Her eyes were interested and intelligent; two bright spots in my feeling-sorry-for-myself morning.
“Hey, girl,’’ I nuzzled her neck. “I’ve done it again. You know what I am, right?’’
She rubbed her big head up and down on my chest.
“That’s right. An idiot.’’
Maddie and Marty had already broken down the tent and packed up our campsite. Before they went to the rescue group’s trailer to prepare their borrowed horses, they’d saddled Val for me. She was tethered by her halter to the trailer. I felt a rush of affection for my sisters, and promised myself I’d try to be nicer, even to Maddie.
All that was left for me to do was get Val’s bridle from its hook on the trailer.
As I walked around my Jeep, I spotted something white on the driver’s seat. I opened the unlocked door and leaned in. On a single sheet of paper, a message was scrawled in childish block letters. I bent close and read:
Dear Mace,
Somebody wants you off this ride because you’re on the right track. Lawton Bramble was murdered. Don’t stop looking for his killer.
I locked the Jeep’s door, touching nothing else. I’d swallow my pride and ask Carlos the best way to handle the note without disturbing any possible evidence. That is, if he could tear himself away from Belle long enough to give me an answer.
By the time I finished with the horse and secured the trailer, I could hear riders shouting from the distant pasture. It was time to go. The trail boss would be gathering everyone into a tight line. He’d want us to stay close to safely cross the highway and continue on our way east to the noontime stop we’d make for lunch.
Trotting up on Val, I found my sisters easing their horses into the middle of the crowd.
“Have you seen Carlos?’’ I asked.
Marty gave Maddie a worried look. Maddie studied the horn on her saddle.
“Carlos went off with the family, Mace,’’ Marty finally said.
“His arm was around Belle when they left. I’m sorry, honey.’’ Maddie’s kind tone sounded rusty.
I pictured Carlos the Protector taking care of Belle, and knew it was what he was meant to do. Last night had been a mistake; I couldn’t compete with Belle’s kind of need. I wondered if they’d send me a wedding invitation so I could see her in that size-2 dress.
“I didn’t need him for anything personal.’’ I worked to keep the hurt from my voice. “I’m just asking because I need a police officer. Somebody left something in my Jeep.’’
Maddie’s brows shot up. Marty’s blue eyes went wide. I told them about the note.
“It’ll keep until we can come back for the Jeep at lunchtime,’’ I said. “It’s probably somebody playing a prank. Everyone in camp seems to know my suspicions that Lawton didn’t die naturally. The news there was nothing nefarious in his cup hasn’t caught up.’’
___
The Cracker Trail ride made a short detour to Dixie Springs Elementary. A student from the school was saddled up, riding with his cattle-raising father for the day. Like a living Florida history exhibit, father and son were still holding on to the old ways.
School kids lined the playground fence and sat cross-legged on the front lawn. The rancher’s nine-year-old son was a jeans-and-boots-wearing copy of his dad, right down to the toothpicks stuck into the bands on each of their hats. He was the youngest in a group of whip-wielding cowpokes putting on a show.
“Do it again, Tyler,’’ a little boy called out, as several girls put their fingers to their ears. “Make it crack again!’’
Mama perched in a green wagon being pulled by a pair of little Haflingers. While whips snapped and children fed carrots to the gentlest horses, I ambled over to see how she was doing.
“. . . and so that was my third husband,’’ Mama was telling the glazed-eyed driver. “Number 3 was a nice change from No. 2. That one had a roving eye, if you know what I mean. And that wasn’t his only fault.’’ She mimed tipping a bottle to her mouth. “I was glad to get rid of him, I’ll tell you that. But, anyways, back to Husband No. 3 . . .’’
I doubted if the poor driver had gotten in a word since we left Okeechobee County.
“Hey,’’ I called. “Have you heard the latest?’’
Gossip, along with butterscotch anything, is a powerful Mama motivator.
“Hi, darlin’.’’ She introduced me to David, the wagon driver. “The two of us have been having ourselves the nicest chat.’’
David touched his hat brim and looked at me with desperation in his eyes.
“What’s up?’’ Mama asked.
I told her about the note.
“I knew there was something more to that fella’s death.’’ David leaned across Mama to talk to me. “People are saying he was poisoned.’’
Mama waved a hand. “Oh, that’s what Mace thought before. But her ex-boyfriend, who’s a police detective, got a friend to test the chili in the cup Lawton was using.’’ She shifted toward me in the seat. “I don’t think Carlos would have done you that favor if he didn’t still like you, Mace. I just know you two can patch things up, honey. You’ll just have to try a little harder, be a little softer with him.’’
David pulled at his collar, looking as uncomfortable as I felt.
“Not relevant, Mama,’’ I warned.
“Anyways,’’ Mama turned to address David, hauling herself back on track, “Doc ruled Lawton’s death a heart attack. There’s no formal investigation, so there hasn’t been an autopsy. And, now, with the lab tests, it looks like Lawton’s chili wasn’t poisoned.’’
I thought about that for a minute. “Well, the chili cup we found had no poison.’’
“Hmmm,’’ Mama said.
“And the note in your Jeep definitely used the word ‘murdered’?’’ David asked.