“Well, we could stand out here and yammer all day. Or, we could get a few of those coffees inside,” Mama said pointedly. “Carlos could definitely use one, what with all the goings-on and the grief pouring off Alice.”

“How is she?” C’ndee’s voice was filled with concern that appeared surprisingly genuine.

“About like you’d expect.” Mama’s face was grim. “It’s an awful shock.”

We were all silent for a moment. Finally, Sal said, “Well, why don’t we go pass out some of these cups, C’ndee? They’ll appreciate the coffee.”

“It’ll have to do,” C’ndee said. “You can’t get a good cup down here. Not like up North. It’s not even imported.”

“As far as I know, all coffee is imported, C’ndee. It doesn’t grow in the United States,” I pointed out.

She ignored me. “I’m just sayin’ it’d never fly in New Jersey.”

C’ndee strutted away, with Sal on her heels. Mama whispered, “Speaking of flying in New Jersey, where’d That Woman park the broom she flew south on?”

“Hush,” I whispered back. “She did offer to go get all those coffees.”

“Humph,” Mama said.

I added three sugars and sipped. The coffee tasted great to me. As we watched the two of them passing out cups, I thought about all that had happened this morning. Mama was quiet, too.

“Maybe C’ndee will grow on us,” I finally said. “Remember how long it took us to warm up to Sal?”

She nodded. “And now he’s going to be your new step-daddy.”

“Hopefully, the last in our long line of step-daddies.”

Returning, Sal stuck his big head in between Mama and me. “You know what they say, girls: Fifth time’s the charm.”

“I believe the saying is ‘third time,”’ C’ndee butted in.

Mama’s back was to both of them. She stuck her finger in her mouth and crossed her eyes. Gag me. Very mature. I hid my smile behind the rim of my cup.

And then in a flash, Mama’s face became serious. I turned to see Marty leading Alice out the front door of the VFW. Her arm was around Alice’s thick waist. A foot taller, Alice leaned onto Marty for support.

A murmur passed through the crowd. Those in the know were likely telling those who weren’t that Alice was Himmarshee’s newest widow. I heard a few gasps. As the two women inched toward Marty’s car, Sal shook his head sadly, the golf beret’s pom-pom bobbing. Mama grabbed my hand and squeezed. C’ndee, uncharacteristically, cast her eyes to the pavement.

Marty got Alice settled in the passenger seat, buckled her in, and then moved to the driver’s side. She motioned to us over the roof, the universal hand signal for I’ll call you. I glanced at Alice, and saw her staring out the car window at our little group. I gave her a small wave. No response.

Marty got in, fastened her own belt, looked for her keys, and then started the engine. Through it all, Alice’s intense stare never wavered. I looked at Maddie to see if she noticed the odd look. She gave me a half-nod, and a shrug. As Marty backed out and drove past, Alice twisted herself around to continue to stare. C’ndee lifted her gaze for just a moment, but long enough for the two women’s eyes to lock.

C’ndee quickly ducked her head again. But not so quick that I didn’t notice her face turn as red as her Mustang convertible under the heat of Alice’s glare.

Mama Gets Hitched _11.jpg

“So, tell me again what we have to do?” Maddie asked.

We were in my Jeep, on our way to the golf course community where Sal played. I’d gotten an emergency call from a newcomer who’d been taken with the notion of country living, until the country came to call.

“Some lady has a snake in her laundry room,” I explained. “She wants me to come get it out.”

After being cleared by Carlos to leave the VFW, I offered Maddie a ride back to work. The deal was she’d tag along with me first. The posh new development at the county’s south end was bringing in new people with Northern accents, city attitudes, and lots of money to spend.

We used the fifteen-minute ride to hash over details about Ronnie’s murder.

“Suppose it was a teenager, looking to rob the place for money to buy drugs.” Maddie said. “What if it was one of my former students?”

Drugs were becoming a scourge for the young people of Himmarshee. Like a lot of rural kids, they were turning out of boredom to some pretty scary stuff. Methamphetamine and crack were a far cry from the pot and booze we’d fooled around with as teens.

“I don’t know, Maddie. Drug addicts prefer the path of least resistance. It’s not easy to kill a man Ronnie’s size with a knife. You’d have to really be motivated.”

“Something personal, then?”

I shrugged. “Hope not. That seems worse somehow.”

I started searching along U.S. Highway 441 for the turnoff to Himmarshee Links. We passed a cattle ranch with a For Sale sign tacked onto a barbed-wire fence. “Will Sub-Divide,” it said, which wasn’t a good omen for the agricultural way of life in middle Florida.

“I’m not fond of snakes,” Maddie announced. “I’m staying in the Jeep.”

“Suit yourself.”

My sister shuddered. “I hate to agree with Mama, but climbing into small spaces after critters the way you do … it’s an unseemly job for a woman, Mace.”

“Excuse me?” I looked at her sideways. “That pothole in the road must have jolted us clear back to 1950.”

We were coming up on the grand entrance for Himmarshee Links, all red brick pillars and geometrically trimmed hedges. Would it have killed them to plant something native? Some saw palmetto, or marlberry for the birds?

Maddie said, “You know that’s not the way I mean it, Mace. You’re free to do any job you want. It’s just that this one is kind of icky, isn’t it?”

“Icky? You’ve been spending too much time with your seventh-grade girls. You’re starting to sound like a twelve-year-old.”

I punched on the radio. The country station was playing Carrie Underwood’s “All-American Girl.”

“Besides, Maddie, trapping’s only part-time. It brings in a few bucks to add to my pay from Himmarshee Park.”

The manicured fairways of the golf course stretched out on both sides as we drove into the subdivision. Stopping to wait for a golf cart to cross the road ahead, I tracked a flash of brightly colored sportswear on the driver’s side. Before, when this land was wild, I’d watched the wings of birds in flight and the white tail flags of leaping deer.

“Remember all the animals we’d spot out here when we were kids, Maddie?”

“No.” Maddie changed the radio to her favorite, Dr. Laura. “That was you communing with the woodland creatures, Mace. I’ve always been partial to civilization.”

A tasteful wooden road sign pointed the way to the golf course’s clubhouse ahead.

“You want to stop by the eighteenth hole? See if you can wrestle another nuisance gator out of a water hazard?”

I looked over to see if Maddie was making fun of me.

“What?” she asked, eyes all innocent.

“Just that you called me Gator Gert for two months after that job. And making those mating grunts every time you saw me got real old, too.”

“Sorry, Mace. I couldn’t resist. Truth is, we were proud of you. There aren’t too many women alligator trappers in Florida …”

“Our cousin’s the official trapper. I just helped.”

“The point is you’re skilled. Which came in pretty handy last summer when Mama got herself into that mess with the murder.”


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