I waited at the mule wagons in a fragrant cloud of roses, vanilla, and a hint of butterscotch toffee. Mama insisted on dousing me for my sunrise photo session with her favorite perfume. I smelled like a florist sharing space with a candy factory inside a horse stable.
“Trust me, Mace,’’ Mama had said. “Carlos won’t be able to resist you when you smell so sweet.’’
I wasn’t sure about Carlos. But the closest mule sneezed as I drew near.
For the photos, I’d chosen my last clean shirt. Denim, of course, which Marty claimed brought out the blue of my eyes. Even Maddie contributed, tying a bandana at a jaunty angle inside my collar.
“It’ll hide the dirt creases on your neck,’’ she said.
I glanced at my watch. Again. Six-forty a.m. Belle had said she’d bring Carlos. We were supposed to meet at six-thirty. Just as I was wondering if I’d been duped, she called my name.
I turned, and my heart sank. Belle’s face was full of pity. She was alone; and she didn’t have her camera. I cursed Mama’s stupid cologne and the jaunty neckerchief. I smeared the back of my hand over my mouth to wipe off the lipstick Marty applied. I felt like a perfect fool.
“Listen, Mace, I’m so sorry.’’
Belle looked at me like I was six years old and she had to break the news that my puppy just died. She put a hand on my wrist. I shook it off.
“It’s fine. I didn’t want my picture taken anyway. Plus, I left my sisters with all the work of getting the horses ready. I better get on back to help them break down camp.’’
I hoped she wouldn’t hear the tears trying to force themselves into my throat.
“I tried really hard to talk Carlos into coming, Mace.’’ Belle, too, seemed on the verge of crying. “He just flat-out refused. He’s very stubborn.’’
Was that supposed to make me feel better? I wondered if Carlos asked about me, or even bothered to make up an excuse. But I was too proud to find out.
As if she read my mind, Belle said, “For what it’s worth, I think he still cares about you. Otherwise, why wouldn’t he just walk over here, smile, let me shoot a few photos, and then walk away? I think it hurts him too much to be around you.’’
When I still hadn’t spoken, she said, “Do you want me to tell him anything?’’
I shook my head, not trusting my voice.
“All right, then. I’m really sorry, Mace.’’ She rested her hand on my arm again. This time I left it there. “Maybe you two will iron things out once you get back to Himmarshee. I hope so, anyway.’’
Me, too, I thought as I nodded. Still I said nothing.
“Goodbye then.’’ Belle patted my arm and then dropped her hand, looking at me with kind eyes. “Maybe we’ll see each other again after the ride.’’
The next time I’d see Belle would likely be at her daddy’s funeral. The thought sobered me up quick. Here was a woman mourning that kind of loss, and she was comforting me over boyfriend trouble. I suddenly felt pretty stupid. I found my voice.
“Thanks, Belle. I know you tried. And you’re right: Carlos is as stubborn as a . . .’’
The animal closest to us picked just that moment to stamp his foot and shake his harness. Belle looked at him and laughed. Bad as I felt, I had to laugh, too.
___
“Sheriff Roberts?’’ I knocked on the side of the interview camper. “Mind if I come in?’’
He got up to open the door, rocking the trailer with his weight.
“I was wondering when I’d hear from you. Weren’t you one of the gals with Ms. Bramble yesterday when I stopped by to talk with her?’’
“Yessir,’’ I said, feeling that sudden flush of nerves again.
“I hear you’re some kind of Jessica Fletcher.’’
“Pardon?’’
“Murder, She Wrote. On TV?”
“Oh, yeah.’’ I nodded, politely, I hoped. “I’ve caught a couple of old reruns. It’s not really my kind of show. Doesn’t it seem unrealistic that everywhere that woman goes, someone up and gets killed?’’
“It’s just TV.’’ He gestured for me to sit across from him at Jack Hollister’s fold-down dining table. “Now, who do you think shot Doc Abel?’’
Over the next fifteen minutes or so, I told the sheriff everything that had happened before Doc got hurt, beginning with Wynonna finding her husband’s body. I told him how she was involved with Trey, and maybe Johnny, too. I mentioned somebody trying to scare me and my family off after we started asking questions about Lawton’s death.
“I think Doc knew too much,’’ I wrapped up. “Whoever shot him must have wanted him out of the way.’’
The toothpick between the sheriff’s lips had barely moved as I spoke. He listened closely, hardly uttering so much as an “uh-huh,’’ or a “Go on.’’ Finally, he shifted the toothpick.
“What time do they start serving breakfast at the food trailer?’’
“Come again?’’ I said.
“Breakfast,’’ he repeated. “It’s been a long night and I’ve had enough coffee to float a battleship. I need some food in my stomach.’’
Maybe Carlos was right about Sheriff Roberts.
“Don’t you want to follow up on any of the leads I’ve given you? Don’t you have any questions?’’
“Naw,’’ he said. “The hospital called about an hour ago. Doc Abel came through surgery like a champ. The doctors say him making it through the night is a real good sign. As soon as Doc can see us, my chief deputy’s going over to the hospital in Stuart. Doc can tell us himself who put him there.’’
He leaned in close. His breath smelled like twice-used coffee grounds and toothpick wood.
“I’d watch my back if I was you, though,’’ he said. “I heard you stole Trey Bramble away from some gal who’s meaner than a pit bull. I’ve seen more deadly violence over jealousy than just about any other reason.’’
I rose to let myself out. “I’ll keep that in mind, Sheriff.’’
Just as I opened the door, he said, “Hang on a minute, Mace.’’
His voice carried an urgency I hadn’t heard before. I turned.
“What time did you say breakfast was again?’’
___
“Mace, honey, that’s just awful. So Carlos never even got to smell my perfume?’’
“No, Mama. Not unless he could smell it over at his camp, which he might could have, considering you about emptied the bottle on me. But he never showed for the pictures.’’
Picking half-heartedly at my breakfast, I related the details of my humiliating morning. It wasn’t even eight a.m., and already I’d been dissed by Carlos and dismissed by Sheriff Roberts.
“We’re gonna fix things between you two,’’ Marty said.
“Please don’t,’’ I said. “He already told me our relationship is too complicated. Having the family circus ride to the rescue is the last thing I need.’’
Maddie said, “I’ll go talk some sense into him.’’
God, no! I wanted to scream. But all I said was, “I don’t think it would help, Maddie.’’
She harrumphed. “What about Belle? I bet she was gloating.’’
“That was the shocking thing,’’ I said. “Belle was really sweet. She felt just about as bad as I did about Carlos standing me up.’’
Mama’s fork hovered over my plate. “Well, honey, at least you got everything off your chest with the sheriff.’’ She speared a sausage I hadn’t touched. “All you can do is give him the information. It’s his job now to try to make sense of it.’’
We all glanced toward Sheriff Roberts. He devoured a sausage biscuit in two bites, then gulped down a forklift-load of eggs and pan-fried potatoes with ketchup.
“Well,’’ Mama said, “maybe not him. I hear his chief deputy is a real hotshot, though. He’s got a criminal justice degree and everything. Poor old Sheriff Roberts should have hung up his holster ten years ago. Let the young blood take over.’’