He pulled a piece of Double Bubble from his pocket, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. "I took a good look at the lines, and at the hydraulics for the power steering, too. Might not've seen it if I hadn't been so curious. But I did."

"Seen what?" Caroline demanded when Tucker seemed content to let the silence-hang.

"Holes poked through the lines. Not rotted or nothing like that, but poked through. Like with an awl, or maybe an ice pick. Fluid would've dribbled on out. That's how your wheel seized up on you, see? You could've wrestled with it if you'da been expecting it, but coming up to a curve at a clip, well, the car's gonna keep going dead ahead. Then you hit the brakes and they're useless as tits on a bull. Beg your pardon, Miz Waverly."

"My God." Her fingers dug into Tucker's arm. "Are you saying someone deliberately sabotaged the car? He could've been killed."

"Could've," Bobby Lee agreed. "But more like busted up some. Everybody 'round here knows Tucker handles a car as good as those Formula One guys."

"I appreciate your coming down to tell me." Tucker flipped his cigarette away, his eyes following the arch of spark. He was angry, blood-pumping angry, and needed to sit on it awhile. "You going by to see Marvella this evening?"

"I was planning on it."

"Then you go on and tell the sheriff what you told me. But nobody else, hear? Don't tell anybody else."

"If that's the way you want it."

"For now. I'd be obliged if we keep it just like that for now. Get on back to town before Marvella lays into you for being so late."

"Guess I will. Be seeing you, Tucker. Evening, Miz Waverly."

Caroline didn't speak until the Cutlass's taillights winked off at the end of the drive. "He could've made a mistake. He's just a boy."

"He's one of the best mechanics in the county. Makes sense anyway. If I hadn't had my brains rattled, I'd've seen it myself. I just have to figure out who's riled enough to give me trouble."

"Trouble?" Caroline echoed. "Tucker, I don't care what Bobby Lee believes about your superhuman skill with a car, you might have been seriously hurt, even killed."

"You worried about me, sugar?" Though his mind was working in other directions, he smiled and ran his hands up and down her arms. "I like it."

"Don't be such a jerk."

"Now, don't get mad, Caro. Though God knows I like the look of you when you get heated up."

Her voice chilled. "I'm not going to stand here while you pat me on the head and put me off like a helpless female. I'm offering to help you."

"That's sweet of you. No-" He grabbed her as she swore and swung away. "I mean it. It's just that until I sift the whole thing through, there's nothing to help with."

"It's obvious to me that it had to be someone close to Edda Lou Hatinger." She tossed her head. "Unless, of course, you've got a list of jealous husbands you need to consider."

"I don't date married ladies. Except that once," he began, and caught her look. "Never mind. Austin's in jail, and I can't picture poor old Mavis scooting under my car with an ice pick."

Caroline angled her chin. "She had brothers."

"True enough." Tucker's lips pursed as he considered. "Vernon wouldn't know a crankshaft from a fence post. He's not the sly kind either. More open, like his daddy. And young Cy… there's no meanness in him that I've ever seen."

"They could have hired someone."

Tucker snorted. "With what?" Gently, he pressed his lips to her temple. "Don't fret, honey, I'm going to sleep on it."

Staring, she stepped back. "I think you could," she said slowly. "I believe you could actually close your eyes and sleep like a baby, even after this."

"I already wrecked my car and banged my head," he pointed out. "I don't see why whoever did this should have the pleasure of keeping me from sleeping, too." He got that look in his eye she was beginning to recognize. That gleam that sent off warning signals in her brain and flutters in her heart. "The only thing keeping me up at night is you. Now, if we were to…" He trailed off as another set of headlights bounced down the drive. "Christ almighty, we're doing big business tonight."

"I'm going now," Caroline said decisively. "I'll call Delia tomorrow and thank her."

"Just hold on." He was trying to make out the type of car. All he could tell for sure was that its muffler had parted ways sometime before. The noise was enough to wake the dead. It was difficult to beheve that the sedate black Lincoln that came to a rocky stop in back of Caroline's BMW could be so rude.

When the door opened and a small white-haired woman in a tie-dyed T-shirt, blue jeans, and army boots stepped out, Tucker broke into a hoot and a grin.

"Cousin Lulu."

"That you, Tucker?" She had a voice like a freight train, loud and rattly and full of dust. "What are you doing over there in the dark with that girl?"

"Less than I'd like to." He was beside Lulu in two strides, bending himself nearly in half to kiss her powdered, paper-thin cheek. "Pretty as ever," he pronounced, and she giggled and swatted him.

"You're the pretty one. Look more like your ma than she did herself. You, you there." She signaled to Caroline with one bony finger. "Come on over where I can see you."

"Don't you scare her off," Tucker warned. "Cousin Lulu, this is Caroline Waverly."

"Waverly, Waverly. Not from these parts." She cast her bright bird's eyes up and down. "Not your usual type either, Tucker. Doesn't look top-heavy or pin-headed."

Caroline thought about it. "Thank you."

"Yankee!" Lulu set up a screech that could have shattered crystal. "Christ in a sidecar, she's a Yankee."

"Only half," Tucker said quickly. "She's Miss Edith's granddaughter."

Lulu's eyes narrowed. "Edith McNair? George and Edith?"

"Yes, ma'am," Caroline said with her tongue in her cheek. "I'm staying the summer in my grandparents' house."

"Dead, aren't they? Yes, they're dead, but they were Mississippians born and bred, so that counts for something. That your hair, girl, or a wig?"

"My…" Automatically, Caroline lifted a hand to her hair. "It's my hair."

"Good. Don't trust bald-headed women any more than I trust Yankees. So we'll see. Tucker, you take my cases in and get me a brandy. I need you to call that Talbot boy about my car. Lost my muffler somewhere in Tennessee. Maybe it was Arkansas." She paused at the base of the steps. "Well, come on, girl."

"I was… I was just leaving."

"Tucker, you tell that girl when I offer to have a brandy with a Yankee, that Yankee better drink."

With that, Lulu clumped up the steps in her army boots.

"She's something, isn't she?" Tucker asked as he switched off the purring ignition.

"Something," Caroline agreed, and decided she could use a brandy at that.