“She didn’t kill him,’’ I said. “We’re trying to find out who did. We’d really appreciate anything you could tell us about Jim Albert that might help us do that, okay?’’ I jotted down my phone numbers and handed the paper over the counter.

“Let’s go, Maddie. Let’s let Linda-Ann get back to work.’’

Once we were out on the street again, I turned on my sister. “You have to learn to lighten up, Maddie. Not everybody responds to intimidation.’’

“Thanks for the tip, Mace. Seeing as how I’ve worked with young people all my life and you work mostly with raccoons, I appreciate the lesson in human psychology.’’

“Don’t get mad. I’m just saying sometimes you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.’’

“Now you sound like Mama.’’

I was beginning to realize there are worse things I could sound like.

Maddie and I put our argument on hold, stepping off the street as a pickup truck with mud on the flaps made its way from the drive-thru lane. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I caught a glimpse of the driver—black Stetson on his head, left arm in a cowboy shirt propped on the sill of his open window. My heart started pounding and my tongue went dry. I never imagined seeing him would send me for a loop; not after all these years.

“Jeb Ennis!’’ I yelled, before I even realized I’d opened my mouth.

“Oh, no,’’ Maddie said.

When Jeb spotted me, he lit up in a smile. Maddie’s face darkened. He parked his truck and waited to cross the road to where my sister and I stood. There was a steady stream of traffic—trucks carrying livestock feed and fertilizer, and the occasional tourist in a rental car who’d ventured far from the resorts on the coasts in search of the real Florida.

As Jeb waited for the road to clear, I had plenty of time to check him out: Blonde hair, blinding white smile, the tanned face of a man who works outdoors in the Florida sun. Tight, faded jeans fit his legs like blue denim paint. He was still long and lean; the years had added only a pound or two to his six-foot frame. First, I’d had inappropriate thoughts about Martinez. Now, seeing Jeb, my knees were as weak as a schoolgirl’s. I really need to get out more.

Reaching our side of the street, he spent a long moment staring at me.

“You look great, Mace.’’

And he looked good enough to eat. The attraction had outlasted anger, and the passage of a decade, at least. I shoved my shaking hands into the pockets of my jeans.

Jeb removed his cowboy hat and pushed a hand through his hair, flattened and slightly sweaty where the band had rested. “You’re sure a sight for sore eyes, Mace. How long has it been?’’

“Not long enough,’’ Maddie muttered.

“I think it was my first year of college,’’ I said, surprised when my voice came out sounding normal.

Maddie stepped in front of me, getting right in his face. “That’s when some horrible cowboy broke her heart. Tell me, Jeb, are you still riding rodeo?’’ She tossed him a smile like she’d rather it was a rattlesnake.

He nervously moved the hat in his hand to his waist, covering up the championship calf-roping buckle on his belt. “Nah, Maddie, I’m too old for rodeo.’’ He smiled back at her. “I bought myself a little ranch west of here, out near Wauchula.’’

“Not far enough,’’ Maddie said.

I bit my tongue before I echoed Mama and told Maddie to mind her manners. She was trying to watch out for me, and with good reason. On the other hand, a lot of time had passed. And the man did look mighty fine in his boots and jeans. He smelled of sweat and hay and the faintest trace of manure, which is like an aphrodisiac for a former ranch gal like me.

“I think my big sister was just leaving, Jeb.’’

I tried to signal Maddie by jerking my head toward the dumpster and her car, but she ignored me. “Maddie, don’t you need to get back to the middle school and torture some little children?’’

“I’ve got all the time in the world, Mace.’’ My sister shifted her purse from her right shoulder to her left, the better to take a swing at Jeb if she needed to.

“We were just talking about the owner of this place, that poor guy who got murdered. Did you know him?’’ I asked Jeb.

His eyes flickered to the drive-thru. “Only to nod at.’’

“You’re probably a pretty good customer,’’ Maddie said. “If I remember, drinking too much was among your many flaws.’’

“Maddie!” I said.

Jeb glared at my sister, his green eyes cold. “I don’t drink like I used to, not that it’s any of your business. I just bought a couple of cases of beer for the boys who work with me at the ranch.’’ He put his hat back on, straightened the brim, and dipped it a little toward Maddie before he turned to me. “We’re having a barbecue tonight, Mace. I’d sure love for you to come.’’

“Mace is allergic to barbecue sauce. Gives her hives,’’ Maddie lied.

I stole a quick look at his left hand. No wedding ring. Still, I wasn’t going to be that easy.

“I’ve got plans tonight.’’ I wish. “How about you ask me for the next one?’’

“Is your number listed?’’

“Mace doesn’t have a phone.’’ Maddie made a last-ditch effort.

“Ignore my sister. I’m in the book.’’

After he left, Maddie lit into me. “I can’t believe you’d give that devil the time of day, Mace. When he breaks your heart again, don’t say I didn’t warn you.’’

“I’m a big girl now, Maddie. And you didn’t have to be so rude. My heart’s been shattered a time or two since Jeb.’’

“But never as bad as that first time, Mace. Never that bad.’’ My sister glanced at her watch. “Now, I really am late. The kids will be raising a ruckus if I’m not there to supervise the school bus lines.’’

She got into her Volvo and rolled down the window. “I’ll talk to you after school, okay? We need to decide what to do next about Mama.’’

As Maddie pulled away, I started looking through my purse for my cell. I wanted to call my other sister, Marty, and tell her about running into the great love of my life. No phone. I remembered pulling everything out of my purse inside the Booze ‘n’ Breeze, hunting for a pen.

I walked back inside and saw Linda-Ann waving my missing phone over her head.

“I figured you’d be back for it,’’ she grinned.

“Listen, I want to apologize for my sister. She’s been a principal for so long, she treats everyone like they’re in the seventh grade.’’

“That’s OK. She’s just as mean as ever, though. You know how her name is Madison Wilson?’’