“Marty, honey, let go.” I pulled at the shirt’s hem until she loosened her grip. “I’m going up to take a closer look.”

My sisters linked arms, planting themselves on the concrete walkway. I climbed three steps, and started across the wooden porch. Potted plants vibrated with my footsteps. The flies took off, buzzing as if in annoyance.

“Be careful, Mace,” Maddie whispered.

Rivulets of nervous sweat pooled at the small of my back. My flashlight flickered, and then died. I stopped, pounding it against my thigh until it lit again. I continued across the porch.

Covering my nose with the sleeve of my shirt, I drew close and aimed the light. Cloudy black eyes stared lifelessly. Two yellowed tusks curved upward. The flies were back, a moving blanket over coarse bristles and leathery skin.

“It’s a wild hog,” I announced. “Or was.”

Marty gasped. “Oh, the poor thing! Is it dead, Mace?”

“I’d say so, Marty. There’s nothing here but the head.”

I stooped to examine the creature’s neck in the light. The spinal cord had been cleanly severed.

“We better call Carlos,” I said over my shoulder. “Looks like whoever took off this critter’s head knew how to use a big knife.”

Mama’s house smelled of carnations and lavender, scents she recommends when stress is a problem. Aromatherapy was a definite improvement over the stinking mess on Alice’s porch. But how well would it work for Alice? Finding out your husband was murdered, and then discovering the decapitated head of a wild boar on your front porch is probably more stress than can be soothed by sniffing at the essential oils of herbs and flowers.

“How’s Alice, Mama?” Marty asked.

“About as well as can be expected.” Mama plopped a handful of ice cubes in her warm wine, which had been forgotten a couple of hours earlier along with our pizza when Alice pounded on the front door.

Next door, the police activity was slowing down. Teensy had barked himself out with the comings and goings at Alice’s. My sisters and I had returned to Mama’s, where she’d been taking care of her devastated neighbor.

“I burned some candles, and then drew a nice hot bath for her with a few drops of chamomile oil. That seemed to work, along with a sleeping pill I had left over from when I was going through my divorce to No. 4.”

I looked from the kitchen entry down the darkened hallway to a closed door at the end.

“So she’s in Maddie’s old room?” I asked.

“The Rose Room, yes,” Mama corrected me.

After the three of us girls moved out, she redecorated our rooms in floral colors and gave each a fanciful, English-garden title. Rose. Buttercup. Violet. I suppose it could have been worse. She could have saddled us instead of our bedrooms with those flowery sounding names.

Maddie rummaged through Mama’s freezer, probably looking for something sweet.

“Grab me a couple of ice cubes, will you, Sister?” Marty held up her wine glass with one hand, lifting the lid on her cheese-pizza box with the other.

“Humph!” issued from the freezer.

Though muffled, it was Maddie’s snort of disapproval. I should know. I’ve heard it enough.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her.

She turned around, holding Mama’s old-fashioned plastic ice bin upside down. She gave it a couple of hard shakes, raising an eyebrow at our mother.

“Now, I wonder who used the last piece of ice?” Maddie said.

Mama sipped her now-chilly wine, overflowing with cubes clinking against the glass.

“I said, I wonder …” Maddie only got those few words out before Mama interrupted.

“So sue me for helping myself to the ice in my own freezer, Maddie. Just open another tray. Don’t make a federal case out of it.”

“All I’m saying is the last person to use it should replenish it. It’s a rule.”

“I wasn’t aware my freezer falls under the ruling authority of the principal’s office at Himmarshee Middle. And if you’re looking around in there for the ice cream, Teensy and I ate it after I got Alice into bed. Besides, you know what they say about dessert, Maddie: A minute on the lips, a lifetime on the hips.”

I held up my hands like a referee before Maddie could snipe back at Mama for that jab about her size-16 shape.

“Enough!” I hissed, trying to keep my voice low so as not to wake Alice. “You two are really something, you know? After everything that’s happened today to that poor woman in Maddie’s room …”

“The Rose Room,” Mama said with a pout.

“Whatever. You both need to keep in mind what’s important. And it’s not empty ice bins or a tiny bit of fat on somebody’s butt.”

“Amen, Mace.” Marty clinked her glass against my bottle of warm beer.

“I’m big boned,” Maddie grumbled under her breath.

There was silence at the table for the next few moments. Without a word, Maddie cracked open a fresh tray of ice, filled the bin, and added a couple of cubes to Marty’s glass.

“It’s been an awful day,” Mama finally said, looking chastened. “Sorry, girls.”

“Me, too,” Maddie echoed.

I expected tears at any moment from Marty. Instead, a low knock sounded at Mama’s front door. Teensy barked twice and started toward the living room. But even Mama’s manic dog seemed to have less energy than he’d had at the start of the night.

“Mace?” The voice through the door was masculine, with the slightest trace of a Spanish accent. My breath quickened, like always when I hear Carlos speak my name. “Is anyone still up?”

Maddie reached over and straightened my hair. Mama handed me the tube of lipstick she always keeps in her pocket. Marty got up, loaded two slices of cold pizza onto a plate, and slipped it into the microwave.

“Be sure you invite him to come in and have some dinner with you,” she whispered. “Tell him you know how hard he’s been working, and how you just thought he might be hungry.”

“That’s right, Mace.” Maddie nodded. “Men are always hungry. And for God’s sake, dab on a little something of Mama’s before you go out there. You should smell sweeter than that awful thing on Alice’s porch.”

The Committee to Fix Mace’s Love Life had swung into full operation. The three charter members weren’t about to let little details like a murder investigation or a butchered hog get in the way of their mission.

“Don’t forget to smile, honey.” Mama bared her own teeth in case I needed a demonstration.

“Just be yourself,” Marty said.

“Oh, Lord.” Maddie rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell her that.”

Mama dug in her pocket again and pulled out a tiny bottle of almond oil mixed with secret scents. “There’s ylang-ylang flower in this.”

Carlos rapped a little harder. Teensy gave a half-hearted yip.

I’d been about to knock away Mama’s hand, but when she held out the open bottle, it did smell good. Musky, yet sweet. I let her swipe a bit of the scent on my neck.

As I finally ran to get the door, I heard Mama whisper to my sisters: “It’s an aphrodisiac.”