Mama Rides Shotgun

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 go

“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.’’

“That’s not always easy for the old blood to do,’’ Sal said.

He’d been quiet, fooling with his beloved cigar case. He lined up his cigars on a log, and then loaded them into the leather case. Then he removed them again. He likes to play with the stogies as much as smoke them.

He peered inside the empty carrier. Upending it, he shook it hard.

“My stars and garters, Sally! What are you doing?’’ Mama asked.

“There’s some tobacco caught underneath one of the seams on the bottom,’’ he said. “I’m trying to get it out.’’

“It’s a cigar case, Sal. It’s bound to collect tobacco,’’ Maddie said.

He knocked the carrier against his camp chair, looked inside, then knocked it some more.

“I know that, Maddie. I want it to be clean!’’

He hit it firmly against the chair again. I’m sure the final few taps were solely to a

I glanced at Mama to see if she thought so, too. Her head was cocked to listen, and she wore a puzzled expression.

“What?’’ I asked her.

The expression was gone as quickly as it came. Her blank eyes now focused on me.

“Nothing,’’ she said. “I was about to think of something important, but then I lost my train of thought. I guess I’m having one of those senior moments a few years early.’’

“Fuhgeddaboutit, Rosie. You’ll be the world’s sexiest senior citizen.’’ Sal planted a loud, sloppy kiss on Mama’s lips.

“Ewww,’’ my sisters and I groaned.

A stiff wind blew off the Indian River, snapping parade flags and ba

We were mounted and waiting for the signal to go, assembled in a large field serving as the parade staging area on the outskirts of downtown. I watched a petite rider wrestle with a big, skittish Appaloosa. The poor girl had probably spent the last week getting her horse accustomed to the crack of cow whips. Now, the Appaloosa looked ready to bolt for the bridge over the Intracoastal Waterway, not stopping until it got to the wide beach and the Atlantic Ocean beyond.

I heard a syrupy voice beside me.

“That’s a lot of animal for such a little girl.’’ It was Austin, sounding like we were the very best of friends.

“Hmmmm,’’ I answered.

I edged Val away from Austin’s Arabian. She’d braided golden thread in the horse’s mane, a match to her own sequined hatband. She also wore a glittery gold vest, showing off her tiny waist and ample bustline. So much for authentic Florida Cracker garb.

“Are you still mad at me, Mace?’’

“Not mad. Just wary.’’

“I’m sorry about the bottle.’’ She looked down and picked at the leather of her reins. “I don’t know what gets into me. When I get angry like that, it’s like a spell takes over. I’m not myself.’’

“You ought to try to find the antidote for those spells, Austin. They’re pretty scary.’’

She ignored my advice-giving. “I really did appreciate it that you didn’t make a big deal about our little scuffle the other night.’’

“By ‘little scuffle,’ you mean when you threatened to fillet me with a broken bottle?’’

She nodded, casting her eyes down at the reins again.

“Forget it,’’ I said. “It’s over.’’

She raised her pretty face at me. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Mace. I feel like I blew it. I was hoping you and I could still be friends.’’

I stared at her. Sincerity oozed from every pore. And, finally, I was fed up. I was fed up with all the crazy and dangerous things that had happened on the ride. I was tired of people who lied and left out and twisted the truth. And, especially, I was sick to death of the nutcase now smiling at me hopefully from under her stupid, sparkly hat.

“We’re not go

The smile left her face like a shift in the wind. Anger sparked in her eyes. Uh-oh, I thought.

“Looks like the parade’s getting started.’’ I began to maneuver Val into the line of horses and wagons that was forming.

Austin screwed up her mouth like she was going to spit at me, and then turned her horse into my path. Val was blocked in by riders on either side. Austin kept pushing her Arabian closer, forcing us to the gutter of the street. Val stumbled over a high concrete curb. I bobbled in the saddle, but held on as she regained her footing.