I did as she said. With her gun in my spine, Belle marched me toward the water. I took a last look at Val. I smelled sea air and the smoke from the brisket I wouldn’t get to eat. Spotting a channel marker in the waterway, I wondered if my body would float past it to the ocean on an outgoing tide.
My mind raced furiously, thinking up and discarding hopeless plans. I’d find a rock, I thought, and then realized Belle would shoot me in the back as I stooped to get it. I’d whirl, and kick the gun from her hand. And wind up shot in the face, with Mama mourning over my unsightly corpse.
When we got to the bank of the river, every detail imprinted itself on my brain. The purple flowers of a railroad vine, tangled in green leaves against the sand. White sails catching wind on a catamaran, heading for open water. The screech of a seagull, crying a warning.
In reflex, my bird-watcher’s eyes shifted for a moment toward the gull’s call. And that’s when I noticed the sun glinting off something golden. In the near distance, Austin crept toward us in her sparkly vest and sequined hat. She laid a finger to her lips, just as I’d done to her that night outside the Brambles’ RV. She lifted her other hand to show me a cow whip, tip snaking off onto the shell-flecked ground.
I raised my voice to Belle over the wind, hoping my face hadn’t betrayed what I’d seen.
“Please, Belle! Don’t do it!’’ I prayed that between the gusts and my yelling, she wouldn’t hear Austin sneaking up.
Belle cocked the hammer and put her finger on the trigger.
Austin streaked forward like a golden arrow, cow whip unfurling in a graceful arc.
I heard a loud pop, and my eyes involuntarily squeezed shut. Was I saved or was I shot?
Belle screamed in pain as the whip lashed her hand. Her shot went wild and she dropped the gun. I dove to the sand, rolled, and hit her legs with the full force of my body. Knees buckling, she went down hard. The breath left her lungs with a whoosh.
“I’ve got her gun,’’ Austin called out. “You all right, Mace?’’
“Yes, and I’ve got her.’’ I straddled Belle’s body wrestler-style, my thighs pinning her thin arms to the sandspur-studded ground.
Sticking Belle’s .22 into her waistband, Austin worked the whip again, and then again and again. In olden times, three cracks of a cow whip signaled danger or an emergency. In this case, I think she was showing off. But I didn’t mind. Austin most likely saved my life.
“I see you got your whip back. You’re awfully good for someone who was just ‘practicing’ the day you ‘accidentally’ hit my horse.’’
“Yeah.’’ She studied the whip, looking ashamed. “I’m sorry about that. Your tent, too.’’
“I think this makes us even,’’ I said.
Austin shifted her gaze to Belle, who turned her head away. She pressed her cheek into the coarse sand and sobbed, narrow shoulders jerking.
“A little late for crying, isn’t it, Belle?’’ Austin sneered. “Mace had Carlos first. He’s not worth getting yourself thrown into jail over. I’ve been mad at Mace, too. But I’d never pull a gun on her. What in the hell is wrong with you?’’
Austin thought my near-murder was over a man! I was grateful for her timing and expert aim. But if brains were blue ink, she didn’t have enough to dot an i.
___
“Oh, honey. I can’t believe I almost lost you!’’
Mama sat with me on a bench by the river, stroking my hair. She fluffed, and then re-fluffed my greasy bangs, and I didn’t even pull away. Maddie pressed herself against my other side, clutching my hand. Marty had flitted around nervously, finally lighting on the ground at my feet. She gripped my knee with both hands, like a bird hanging onto its perch in a hurricane.
“I’m fine, y’all,’’ I told them for what seemed like the hundredth time.
Austin had left me pinning down Belle while she ran for help, spreading word through the picnic grounds as she went. Mama and my sisters rushed over as soon as they heard. Sal wasn’t around, as he’d disappeared with Trey on a mission to find a cigar store. Neither was Carlos, who hadn’t even finished the parade before rushing to the hospital to try to talk to Doc.
The Fort Pierce police came and took Belle into custody. She sat now in the back of a squad car, ducking her head from the stares of a growing crowd of riders and parade spectators.
“I knew all along it was one of the Brambles,’’ the big-bottomed cowgirl said to her friend with the permanent curls.
“Is it true Belle shot Doc Abel?’’ I overheard a latecomer ask her.
“That’s right.’’ The cowgirl spoke with the authority of someone who’d learned the news a few moments earlier. “And killed her daddy, too.’’
I still didn’t know exactly how, or more importantly why, Belle had done the things she did. She’d clammed up after Austin hit her with the whip.
“Are you sure she said she ‘got rid’ of Lawton, Mace?’’ Maddie looked at me doubtfully.
“Yes, Maddie. With Doc’s help. Like I told y’all, I didn’t find out more because it’s hard to think of follow-up questions when you’re counting down your final seconds on Earth.’’
Marty squeezed so hard I knew her nails would leave marks on my knee. “Maddie, stop badgering Mace. We’re lucky she’s even here.’’
“You’re absolutely right, Marty.’’
Both Mama and I stiffened in surprise. Maddie giving in so easily? My formerly imminent death must have scared her pretty bad.
“There’ll be time to figure everything out after we’ve gotten something to eat.’’ Maddie was signaling that, at least for her, things were returning to normal.
“Speaking of food . . .’’ Mama nodded toward the crowd, where Johnny Adams approached with Audrey. Each of them carried two foil-wrapped plates.
“Audrey thought you might be hungry.’’ Johnny’s gruff voice had gone soft.
“Don’t listen to this old crab.’’ She poked him with an elbow. “Johnny’s the one who insisted we come over to check on you.’’
Mama and Maddie reached up for the plates. The hand-holding and bangs-adjusting was over, which was fine with me. Still, I couldn’t eat. The top and bottom halves of my stomach were holding a tug-of-war. I toed a pebble loose from the ground, and then leaned to pick it up. I stood, and found another and then another buried in the sand.
“I’ll get something later.’’ I slipped the rocks in my pocket. “I’m going to the river.’’
Marty’s eyes went wide. “No, Mace! You should stay here with us!’’
Mama stroked her fine blond hair. “Honey, don’t worry. Mace’ll be okay. She’s just going off to toss some rocks into the water.’’
“Maybe I could go with her.’’ The voice was masculine. Slightly accented. I looked up from searching the ground to see Carlos, his eyes dark with emotion; his face full of relief.
“We could toss rocks together,’’ he said softly, holding out his hand.
I took two steps toward him. He took one to me. And suddenly I was in his arms. I buried my face in his clean denim shirt, inhaling the smell of laundry soap and safety. Wrapped in his tight embrace, I didn’t feel weak. I felt cared for, and doubly strong.
He lifted my chin. We kissed, and he nipped at my bottom lip with his teeth.
“I almost went out of my mind driving back here,’’ he whispered. “Belle poisoned her father. Doc said she tricked him to get an extra prescription for digoxin, the medicine Lawton took to regulate his heart.’’