I nodded.
“Hmmm,’’ he said.
___
“These fields are going to murder my shocks,’’ Sal grumbled, as we jounced over pastureland torn up by wild hogs.
I rode in the front seat; Carlos was in the back. He’d agreed after lunch to return to camp with me to look at the note.
“Make a left at that clump of palmetto, Sal.’’
“You have to be more specific, Mace,’’ he said. “It’s all just green to me.’’
“The low-growing shrub with spiky fronds shaped like fans.’’
“Thank you,’’ Sal said, as he maneuvered the big Caddy into a wide arc to the left.
A wallow the hogs had dug out loomed ahead: a shallow, muddy bowl. “Watch out . . .’’ I started to say, just before I felt the car take a dip.
“Crap!’’ Sal’s unlit cigar fell from his mouth.
“Don’t slow down, Sal!’’ I yelled. “Just power on through, and you won’t get stuck.’’
He gunned it, and came out safely on the other side.
“Does anybody know where the closest car wash is?’’ Sal stared out the windshield at wild land stretching for miles. “Nah, forget the car wash. How far’s the nearest bar?’’
Carlos leaned over the seat and patted Sal’s shoulder. “Hang in there, buddy. Just one more night left on the trail. We’ll be in Fort Pierce for the big parade by tomorrow.’’
“Hallelujah.’’
I said, “There’s my Jeep and trailer, under that slash pine.’’
Sal looked at me blankly.
“Sorry. Under that tall, lonely tree that looks like a hat rack with green needles and brown hanging things.’’
He smiled as he eased his Caddy to a stop, parking a distance from my camp.
As we got out of the car, Carlos pulled a plastic bag for evidence from his pocket.
“Thanks for parking outside the perimeter, Sal. I don’t want all of us tramping around. Mace, can you remember how you got to your Jeep before?’’
I nodded.
“Try to take the same path as much as you can. I’ll follow your footsteps.’’ Looking around the campsite, he frowned. “It’s all grass here, though. Not so good for finding footprints, if it comes to that. It’d be better if it were dirt, or mud.’’
“I know where you can find some of that.’’ Sal smeared at the muck on his fenders with a monogrammed handkerchief.
I moved carefully toward the Jeep, picturing where Val had been standing and what direction I walked to fetch her bridle from the trailer. Carlos followed so closely I could hear him breathing; I smelled his scent. Even without a shower, he smelled good. Musky, with a subtle overlay of the spicy, clove-scented cologne he always wore.
I’d tasted that cologne more than once as I kissed him on the neck. Which was just the kind of memory I wanted to push out of my head.
I was within a few feet of my Jeep when I noticed a slash in the old canvas top. It was cut with surgical precision above the driver-side door. As I got closer, I saw the seat was empty. Somebody had reached in and snatched the note telling me to keep looking for Lawton’s killer.
___
“You’ll never believe who stopped by with a gift for you, Mace,’’ Mama said.
My sisters and I were gathered with Mama and Sal at Camp Cadillac. It was late afternoon, an hour or so before sunset, on the final night of the ride.
“Who?’’
“Guess,’’ Mama said, ensconced on her pillows in Sal’s back seat.
“Mama, please. I’m not in the mood.’’
I’d had to leave my Jeep and trailer behind. Carlos didn’t think it should be moved. If it turned out the stolen note wasn’t a prank, there could be evidence on or in the vehicle that might be important. Better to not take any chances, he said.
I’d stowed as much of Val’s supplies as I could fit into the trunk of Sal’s car. He was a sport about it, even when the sticky horse feed spilled on the golden carpet inside.
“So, who left me a present?’’ I asked again.
Mama dug into a cooler in Sal’s front seat, pulling out a bottle of white wine. “She even left a corkscrew and glasses.’’ She presented two plastic goblets with a flourish. “Sal and I can share.’’
“Who, Mama?’’ Maddie and I screeched.
“Austin,’’ Sal answered, fingers in his ears.
Mama gave him a playful slap. “I wanted Mace to guess!’’
“Well.’’ Marty examined the bottle. “That’s strange.’’
“Better check the seal to see if it’s been tampered with,’’ Maddie said.
“She was really nice, Mace,’’ Mama said. “Austin said you’ve had a heck of a week. And she still feels bad about that cow whip, honey.’’
A crack rang out just then, like punctuation. Over the course of the ride, the whips had become a background soundtrack. Novices had learned enough to make the leather snap. Old hands remembered how much fun whip-cracking could be.
Mama continued, “She was at her granny’s, so she missed my terrifying ride on Shotgun. I told her how that horse and I were just standing there, as pretty as you please . . .’’
“Mama, what else did Austin say?’’ Marty corralled her back on track.
“Well, she just said she wanted Mace and me to relax and enjoy a nice glass of wine. She even brought ice to keep it cold.’’
Mama hunted around until she found a cup for Marty. She handed Sal the corkscrew.
“Austin, huh?’’ Maddie fished out her teetotaler’s bottled water from the cooler. “Will wonders never cease.’’
Sal uncorked the wine, and then poured a bit in each glass. Mama, Marty, and I toasted our wine to Maddie’s water. We all sipped. Sal slid his cigar case from his pocket and lit up.
“Mmm-hmm,’’ Mama said. “It’s almost as good as one of those raspberry wine coolers.’’
Sal studied the bottle’s label, and took a stab: “Sue-Vig-None Blank.’’
Maddie, who’d had a semester of college French, corrected him, “Sauvignon Blanc.’’
“Here you go, darlin’.” Mama handed Sal her glass. “It sounds better when you say it.’’
Sal was about to take a swallow when a scream shattered the festive spirit of our little party. We dropped our drinks and ran to the sound, which seemed oddly familiar.
In a wide green pasture, under a sinking sun, Wynonna kneeled on the ground. She shouted over and over for help, her hands pressed to Doc Abel’s stomach.
As we came closer, she looked up. Terror filled her eyes and blood stained her hands.
“Please, you’ve got to save him,’’ she cried. “Somebody shot Doc.’’
Doc Abel was alive, but barely, bleeding from a bullet to the gut.
A helicopter was rushed from the hospital in Stuart. It now pounded the air above us. Riders looked to the sky, hands clamped tight over cowboy hats. The sun was almost gone now. Lanterns gleamed in the treeless pasture, marking off a makeshift landing pad. As the chopper descended, a search beam washed the scene in an eerie glow.
“Move back, people,’’ Sal yelled as the crowd shifted, closing in again around Doc. “The medical team will need some room.’’
___
When Wynonna screamed, we weren’t the only ones who heard her. People came running from all over camp. Cell phone calls to 911 must have lit up the lines at the county sheriff’s central dispatch. In the crowd, I saw Austin and Johnny Adams; Trey and his sister, Belle. The big-bottomed cowgirl showed up. So did the two teenagers, their eyes bright orbs. Sal hustled over, right behind my sisters and me. He and Carlos had taken charge until deputies from the Dundee County sheriff’s office could arrive at the remote camp.