Mama Sees Stars: A Mace Bauer Mystery (7 page)

I tossed the keys
to my Jeep into the gaping mouth of Al, my combination coffee table art and conversation piece.

“Nice dunk,’’ Carlos said.

“Thanks.’’

“That still kills me.’’

“What? That I’m such an incredible shot?’’

He grinned. “No, that you keep a dead alligator’s head in your living room like a sculpture. Who does that?’’

Before Al was a taxidermy exhibit, he was a nuisance gator, which basically means too many people moved into what used to be Al’s Florida domain. My state-trapper cousin and I wrestled the ten-footer out of the swimming pool of a newcomer—who loved the notion of living in a natural setting, until nature came to call.

“Hey, don’t they say art is in the eye of the beholder?’’ I asked.

“I think that’s ‘beauty’ that’s in the eye,
niña.
’’

“Well, Al was beautiful, in his way. It’s not his fault he crashed some guy’s pool party.’’

Carlos shuddered. “
¡Dios mío!
Lucky no one was killed.’’

I looked over at Al, in profile. As always, I imagined that beady glass eye of his judging me.
Murderer,
it said.

A plaintive yowl issued from the bedroom. It was followed by another, even louder.

“Hush, Wila!” I made the
Shhhh
sound, to no avail.

Carlos nodded toward the room, where my foster cat was pouting under a pile of dirty clothes. “Is she going to speak to me tonight?’’

“Oh, she’ll speak, but more likely she’ll speak
about
you rather than
to
you.’’

Wila’s Siamese nose was out of joint because the two of us normally had my little cottage to ourselves. Tonight we had company. Carlos and I usually used his apartment in town when we got together. But he was renovating, and his one bathroom was out of commission. I didn’t think his landlord would appreciate me peeing in the backyard.

I still couldn’t believe I shared my living space with a noisy cat. I’m a dog person. Wila came my way the summer Mama discovered a dead man in her turquoise convertible. With everything else going on back then, it seemed too complicated to try to find the cat a real home. She turned out to be smart and funny, with a personality all her own. Truth is, Wila’s grown on me. She’s pretty cool, for a cat.

Meowrrrrr
.

Well, except for that. Siamese love to hear the sound of their own voices. Kind of like Mama, come to think of it.

Carlos covered his ears.

“She’ll settle down after I feed her,’’ I said. “Then she’ll get used to you being here. Just don’t try to approach her before she’s ready.’’

MEOWRRRRR
.

“You don’t have to worry about that.’’ Wincing from the sound, he took a seat on the couch.

After I set out the cat’s food, I puttered about the kitchen. I grabbed a couple of beers, a can of peanuts, and a roll of paper towels for Carlos and me.

“Don’t go to any trouble,’’ he called from the living room.

I looked at the meager offering. Martha Stewart I’m not. “You don’t have to worry about that.’’

The cat waited long enough so she wouldn’t seem desperate. Then, streaking past Carlos like she believed speed made her invisible, she tore into the kitchen to eat. A blessed quiet reigned in my cottage. Nights were getting cool enough to open the windows. Nature sounds filtered in through the screens. A bullfrog croaked from a distant creek. An owl hooted. The breeze ruffled leaves on the oak trees that shade my property.

When I joined Carlos, his head was leaned back on the couch, his eyes closed.

“You asleep?’’ I whispered.

“Just resting my eyes.’’ He took the bottle of beer I offered, and gave me a weak smile. “Long day.’’

“Probably be another one tomorrow.’’

He took a swallow of beer. Closed his eyes again. I waited what I thought was an appropriate time, and then asked, “So, who do you think killed Norman Sydney?’’

His eyes slowly opened. He shook his head. “You’re kidding me, right?’’

“What?’’

“Not tonight, Mace. I just want to kick back and unwind. I don’t want to be interrogated.’’

I got a little huffy. “It’s hardly an interrogation. It’s just one little question.’’

“I thought you weren’t interested in trying to solve this case. You said, and I quote:
Those weird Hollywood people can kill each other off for all I care
.’’

“Right. And I’m not getting involved. That doesn’t mean I’m not curious, though.’’

“Curiosity killed the dog.’’

“Cat,’’ I said. Sometimes Carlos confuses his English-language aphorisms.

“Okay, cat.’’ He rested his head on the back of the couch again.

I looked at his face and saw stress and fatigue written there. Carlos was right. I had vowed to steer clear. And it wasn’t worth us arguing over. I clinked my bottle softly against the one he held in his hand.

“Bottom’s up,’’ I said. “Let the stress release begin.’’

By the time we polished off our beers and half the can of peanuts, we were both feeling mellow.

“How about dessert?’’ Carlos said.

I remembered finishing off a bag of Oreos in front of the TV.

“Sorry, I don’t have anything sweet in the house.’’ I picked a stray peanut off his chest.

“I think you do.’’ He looked at me, desire suddenly sparking in those bottomless-pool eyes.

“Oh.’’

I fed him the peanut. He bit gently at my fingertip, and then ran his tongue around the nail. With his finger, he traced a trail across my lips, down my chin, and then slowly, slowly along the outside of my throat. I swallowed. When his lips followed the path his finger had made, I shivered, even though my body was the opposite of cold.

“Yeah,’’ he said. “Oh.’’

He brought his face back to mine. Our lips met. His tasted like peanuts. That wasn’t a problem. I could eat peanuts all day.

I stood, held out my hand, and pulled him to his feet. “On second thought,’’ I said, “I might have a sweet treat or two hidden in my bedroom.’’

“
¡Qué bueno!
I love a treasure hunt.’’

_____

Afterward, I lay in my bed behind Carlos as he slept. With my thumb, I followed the curlicue of a cowlick at the back of his neck. I straightened it, and then watched it spring right back to its original position.

It struck me that our relationship was a little like that stubborn curl. I could try to force it into something it wasn’t, or I could just let it grow the way it wanted to. I listened to the even rhythm of his breathing. Heat from his body warmed me as I pressed my naked body against his. I felt well loved. It seemed like more than just the physical afterglow of sex. Was it real happiness?

I wanted to shower, but I could feel myself dropping off to sleep. I felt the familiar heaviness, the letting-go of muscle tension in my limbs. I was beyond relaxed. Why fight it? My body had just begun floating downward into the mattress’s soft embrace when the shrilling of the telephone jarred me back to consciousness.

Beside me, Carlos grumbled and buried his head in a pillow.

The nightstand clock said 10:37—late for idle chit-chat. I hoped nothing had happened to Mama, or to one of my sisters. The number displayed on the phone was local, but not one I recognized. My hand shook a bit as I picked up the phone and said hello.

“Hey, darlin,’ long time no see.’’

I gasped, and felt Carlos’s body go rigid beside me. He was wide awake now.

“Well, say something, why don’t you?’’ The caller’s tone was light, joshing. “Sorry it’s late. I just wanted to call to let you know it looks like we’re going to be working together out there on that movie set.’’

I tried to get my tongue and lips to form some words. All I managed was a little squeak.

A low, sexy chuckle came over the line, hitting me hard in the memory bank. “I expected a little more of a response to the news than that.’’

Instinctively, I turned my back to Carlos, hunching my shoulders and tucking the phone close to my mouth. Even in the dim moonlight that shone through the bedroom window, I knew Carlos would be able to read the emotions on my face. If he did, what would he see?

A tapping issued from the phone, like the caller was knocking the mouthpiece against something to make sure it was working.

“Is this thing on? Are you there, Mace?’’ He paused. “It’s me. Jeb Ennis.’’

The Bar J Ranch
crew arrived with its own soundtrack. A stock trailer squeaked and rattled as it rolled over rough pasture toward the movie set’s cow pen. About two dozen head of Brangus cattle lowed from inside. Hauling the trailer was a big Ford dually, a pickup with four wheels on the rear axle. George Strait’s
River of Love
floated out through the open windows of the battered truck. Three cowboys crowded onto the front seat. I recognized the driver of the white truck by his black hat.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Mace.’’ Maddie squinted at the truck, shading her eyes from the mid-morning sun. “Besides, I thought Jeb lost his ranch. How’d he even get this job?”

I shrugged. I didn’t trust my voice. The fact my stomach was in my throat would surely make the words come out funny. Plus, I didn’t want to get into a big discussion with my sister about Jeb, the first male to pluck out my heart and stomp on it. Even after all these years, I always ended up making excuses for him, which made me feel like a sap.

Marty smoothed her blond hair behind her ears. “I heard he’s been working hard to rebuild Bar J. He’ll probably do whatever he can to earn a few extra bucks.’’

“Humph!’’ Maddie snorted. “So he can squander them again, no doubt. What a loser.’’

“Remember Maddie, ‘
Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy
.’’’

Mama was capable of chastising Maddie with a verse from Matthew, even as she reached over and rearranged my hair. Then she licked her finger and rubbed at my cheek. “I can’t tell if that’s dirt or manure, Mace. Either way, it’s not a good look.’’

I jerked away. “Like I care, Mama. This isn’t a fashion shoot. I’m working here.’’

“Humph!’’ Maddie glared in Jeb’s direction, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, you care, sister. That’s the problem.’’

I shrugged again, in what I hoped was a carefree manner.

We were gathered at the corral. The crime scene investigators had finished, even removing the section of fence where we’d found Norman. The movie set’s carpenters hurriedly patched it with similarly weathered wood. Mama and my sisters came to help me feed and water the horses. We also worked on preparing saddles and other tack for an upcoming scene.

Mama hadn’t done much actual work, unless you count sitting on the fence and telling the rest of us how we were doing everything wrong.

At the corral, I’d filled them in on the details of Jeb’s late-night call, omitting the specifics of what I’d been doing in my bedroom just before the phone rang.

“What’d Carlos say?’’ Marty asked.

“Not a thing,’’ I said. “I ended up walking the phone out to my porch, but you know how small my cottage is. Jeb and I only talked for a few minutes, but I know Carlos heard every word on my end. When we rang off, I remember I called Jeb by name.’’

“You can be sure Carlos heard you. That man doesn’t miss a thing.’’ Clucking her tongue, Mama shook her head. “Too bad, too. It finally seemed like Carlos and you were becoming a real couple.’’

“Nothing happened, except Mace got a call from an old boyfriend,’’ Marty said. “Carlos won’t treat that like it’s the end of the world.’’

Maddie raised her eyebrows at our little sister. “Really? There’s already bad blood between Jeb and Carlos. Don’t you remember how they went round and round over Mace, the summer Mama found her corpse?’’

“That poor man in my convertible trunk had a name, girls. Please don’t call him my corpse.’’

When I told Mama and my sisters about the phone call, I didn’t add that when I finished talking to Jeb, Carlos was asleep. Or pretending he was. I tiptoed into the bathroom for a quick shower. When I finished, he was gone. He hadn’t even said goodbye.

Now, here was Jeb, climbing from the driver’s seat of his truck. We watched as he swung out a long, lean leg. One foot, in a worn Ariat boot, hit the ground. The other soon followed. When he stood up and adjusted those tight jeans over the long lines of his body, my traitorous heart skipped a beat. Dammit.

I heard a low whistle beside me. “Say what you will about the man. He still looks like sex on a stick.’’

“Mama!’’ The three of us gasped at once.

“I can’t help it, girls. I’m only stating the obvious.’’

A frown creased Maddie’s brow. “Just how close did he say the two of you would be working?’’

“Not that close. Once he delivers the cattle, I bet Jeb leaves his ranch hands behind to see to what the movie people need.’’

“
Riiight
,’’ Maddie said. “With Kelly Conover and Jesse Donahue here on the set …’’

“Not to mention the beautiful Mace Bauer …’’ Marty added.

“… still mooning over her long-ago affair with Jeb; star-crossed lovers since they were teenagers.’’ Maddie clasped a hand over her heart, or at least where her heart would be if she had one.

I didn’t want to give Maddie the satisfaction of looking, but my eyes defied my brain. A teenager no more, Jeb was all man as he unloaded his cows. Brangus, a mixture between Angus cattle and the heat-tolerant Brahman, were big and beefy. They looked nothing like the rangy half-wild creatures known as Florida Cracker cattle, which would have been true to the period of Patrick Smith’s book. Then again, not much about the movie seemed true to the book.

I could feel Maddie’s eyes on me as I watched Jeb. She took her hand from her heart to wag a finger. “Mark my words: That man will stick around, and that’ll mean trouble for you.’’

_____

Greg Tilton was on horseback out in the pasture, rehearsing for his scene. He hadn’t lied when he said he was experienced. His hand was easy on the reins, and he had a good seat on the Quarter horse we’d saddled for him.

He was cast as Toby’s father. The scene would have him racing at a gallop to the corral, where Toby would be waiting. Tilton was costumed in frontier garb, Florida cowman style: lace-up boots to keep out the snakes, a slouchy hat to repel the rain, and a braided leather cow whip coiled on his saddle.

Of course, he should have been riding a little Cracker horse, like in the book. But Tilton was a big, muscular guy. He’d dwarf such a small horse. Plus, the horse’s gait is like a pogo stick. Bouncing around the saddle like a little kid’s jack-in-the-box wouldn’t befit a movie hero.

Pulling up at the corral, he swung easily out of the saddle. Mama and my sisters were a distance away at the supply trailer, supposedly measuring out horse feed for the evening. But I saw them whispering and pointing. I hoped none of them asked Tilton for an autograph.

As everyone stood around waiting for lights, camera, and director to be ready, Tilton leaned against the rustic fence with the horse’s reins in one hand, his hat in the other. He looked posed: The Florida Cowhunter on the Open Range.

Suddenly, a warm breath of air on the back of my neck distracted me from stargazing. I caught the faintest scent of sweat and hay, with just a hint of cow manure. I knew exactly who was there.

“Boo!’’

My heart pitter-patted, dammit.

“Your cattle all settled?’’ I asked.

“Easy breezy,’’ Jeb answered. “How’d you know it was me?’’

“I’m psychic.’’

He came around to face me. “How about the horses? Any trouble?’’

“Not unless you count the body we found draped over their corral yesterday.’’

“Yeah, I heard about that. Guess somebody wanted to make sure he’d be seen.’’

“I wish they’d have done it someplace else. People are starting to think Mama and I are some kind of Grim Reapers.’’

“This is the second murder y’all have been mixed up in, right?’’

“I wouldn’t say we’re ‘mixed up’ in this one. We were just unlucky enough to stumble on the body. And it’s the fourth.’’

Jeb took a step backward and whistled. “Four? Now, you know I love being around you, Mace. But maybe you shouldn’t stand so close.’’

I’d have been offended, but his smile took any meanness out of the jibe. And what a smile it was: white teeth in a face tanned by hard work in the Florida outdoors; sunlight dancing in the golden flecks of his eyes. There went my heart again. It had a mind of its own, dammit.

“Hey, you’re the one who came over here to me.’’ I put my hand in the center of his chest and gave a gentle push. “I don’t recall issuing you an invitation to stand close.’’

He grasped my wrist, and pulled my hand tighter against his chest. I couldn’t help but notice the heat of his body, and how lean and hard the muscles felt beneath the snap buttons of his cowboy shirt. I remembered how easily those buttons popped open.

Jeb leaned toward me. His lips were inches from my ear, his breath hot against my cheek. “Since when do old friends like us need an invitation?’’

Over his shoulder, I caught a glimpse of Mama and my sisters. The three of them scowled at me like Puritans preparing to pin on a scarlet letter. I turned, but not before I saw Maddie mouth
You’re crazy.
Mama shook her head at me. Marty bit her lip and looked worried.

As soon as I got the chance, I was going to tell them there was nothing to worry about. Yes, I was still physically attracted to Jeb. He was my first lover, and he was still flat-out gorgeous. But he was also more trouble than he was worth. And I was in love with Carlos. I’d never risk what I had with him for a quick roll in the hay.

“Back off, cowpoke.’’ I pushed him, hard enough to show I meant it this time.

Surprise played across his face. I was a little hurt I didn’t see disappointment there, too. I wanted him to give up on me, but not
that
easily.

“I thought we were friends.’’ His mouth drooped down at the corners.

“ ‘Friends’ being the operative word. I’m involved with someone, Jeb.’’

“That Spanish cop from Miamuh. Still?’’

“Yeah. His name’s Carlos. And he’s Cuban, though he speaks Spanish.’’

“It’s serious?’’

I thought that over for a moment. An image from last night came into my mind, of us spooned together in my bed. A warm feeling washed over me. Desire, yes, but contentment, too.

“Yeah,’’ I said, “we’re serious.’’

“Lucky guy.’’

“Lucky me. Which is why I’m trying hard not to screw things up,’’ I said. “I’ll ask you to respect that.’’

Jeb put up his hands. “I surrender. You’re the boss, and your wish is my command.’’

“Yeah, right.’’ We both laughed, falling into an easy familiarity. “So how come you’re still here? I thought for sure you’d deliver the stock and head back to the ranch. You still have that former prom queen at home, waiting on you to marry her?’’

He took off his hat; ran a hand through his dusty blond hair. “Yeah, but I don’t think I’m the marrying kind, Mace.’’

“No duh.’’

Avoiding my eyes, he glanced around at the assembled actors and extras, the camera operators and grips. My gaze followed his. Paul Watkins was deep in conversation with Toby, and Barbara was right beside the two of them. Tilton’s horse, still saddled, was inside the corral, though I didn’t see the action star. Jeb’s eyes continued roaming the set.

“Looking for somebody?’’

He grinned, a bit sheepish. The cowboy hat went back on his head. “I thought maybe Kelly Conover might be around.’’

“You’re a hound, you know that?’’

“I never claimed to be anything but,’’ he said.

Finally, a call went out across the set. “Settle, everybody!’’

High above us, a huge light on a crane powered on, washing the scene with brightness. A clipboard-carrying production assistant rushed toward me, speaking into the radio headset she wore. She stopped, and said to me, “They’re shooting Toby’s scene, where he’s waiting for his father at the corral. That horse with the saddle has to be moved out of there.’’

“No problem,’’ I said. “I’m on it.’’

As I started toward the corral, Jeb brushed my cheek with his lips. “For old time’s sake,’’ he whispered.

I kept walking. Maddie glared. Marty gnawed her lip. Mama crooked a finger and beckoned me toward them. I shook my head and continued toward the horse, grateful that at least Mama wasn’t yelling this time.

My fingers rose to my cheek. The spot Jeb kissed felt warm. Dammit.

I was almost to the gate of the corral when a loud boom sounded from above. In an instant, all hell broke loose. The horses spooked, racing in a panic around the small enclosure. People started screaming. Shadows seemed to be falling toward me from the sky. I heard Mama’s voice rise above the others: “Watch out, Mace!’’

I didn’t know whether to run or duck. The space around me suddenly got hot. Involuntarily, my eyes squeezed shut. An explosive force struck from one side, propelling me off my feet and into the air.