“I don’t want to talk about that man.’’ Done with her bread, Mama was delicately licking butter off her fingertips.

“Don’t you want to know why he rushed over to the jail last night, frantic?’’ I asked.

“I didn’t know he was frantic, and I wouldn’t care anyway. Donnie Bailey came back to my cell and asked if I wanted to see him, and I told him absolutely not. Donnie didn’t say why Sally was there.’’

“He came because Emma Jean Valentine called him up and told him you’d had a heart attack.’’

“Close your mouth, Maddie,’’ I said. “You’re gonna draw flies.’’

It’s so rare I get the chance to surprise my older sister. I was taking full advantage.

“Emma Jean told Sal I had a heart attack?’’ Mama lifted a fork load of banana cream pie to her mouth. “I’m healthy as a hog, girls. What was she thinking?’’

“That’s what we need to find out,’’ Maddie said, handing our mother a napkin to wipe meringue off her chin. “This isn’t the first time Emma Jean’s name has arisen since you found the body in your trunk, Mama. I, for one, would like to know why.’’

Marty darted in like a sparrow after a crumb, snatching the half-bite of pie crust Mama left on the plate. “You can’t suspect Emma Jean of anything bad, Maddie,’’ she said. “She’s so nice.’’

Maddie and I looked at each other.

“Even nice people can have guilty secrets, Marty,’’ I said.

I repeated what Emma Jean told D’Vora, that she was mad enough to kill over Jim Albert’s cheating.

“Funny she never told me he was cheating,’’ Mama said. “She was likely embarrassed, planning that big wedding and all. Emma Jean’s life has had some real heartache, girls.’’

Maddie snorted.

“Don’t be mean, Maddie. The poor woman lost her little boy; and there’s no heartbreak like that. He ran away when he was just thirteen. They never did find him, neither. It just about tore Emma Jean up. She and the boy’s father divorced. She just couldn’t get over the loss.’’

“How sad.’’ A tear rolled down Marty’s perfect cheek. “Poor Emma Jean.’’

“You might have noticed that picture on Emma Jean’s desk at the police department,’’ Mama continued. “That was her son.’’

All of us were silent, even Maddie. She got up to return the sweet tea pitcher to the refrigerator.

I finally said, “Emma Jean’s not the only one with a secret, Mama. Your man-of-mystery boyfriend has been at the top of our list of possible murder suspects.’’

I ticked off on my fingers everything we knew—or suspected—about Sal: his criminal ties to Jim Albert; his evasiveness; the fact he had access to Mama’s car trunk. The only thing I didn’t mention was his possible role in my crash, since we didn’t want to scare her.

“I don’t know, girls.’’ Mama opened the refrigerator and took out the pitcher Maddie had just put away. “It’s true Sally’s lied to me. But I just can’t believe he’s a killer. I’ve always been a good judge of character.’’

“That’s true,’’ Marty said, using a napkin to sop some tea Mama spilled on the floor.

“Please!’’ Maddie said. “The woman has had four husbands. How good a character judge can she be?’’ She wiped Mama’s fingerprints off the door of her stainless-steel fridge.

“Now, Maddie, you know that’s not fair.’’ Mama took a swallow of sugared tea. “Only that second one was what you’d call a failure as a human being. And I blame that on me still being in shock over your daddy’s dying. The last two were good men, just bad matches.’’

Mama was right. One of those exes still lives in Himmarshee, and brings carnations and chocolates every year on her birthday.

Marty changed the subject. “Speaking of men, did Mace tell you she saw Jeb Ennis the other day?’’

“Talk about a suspect,’’ Maddie muttered.

I hadn’t told my sisters what the liquor store clerk said about Jeb. For some reason, I felt protective of him. I wanted to talk to him first before I told about his temper and Jim Albert.

“That boy sure knew how to handle a horse,” Mama said dreamily. “I liked him.’’

“Proving my point,’’ Maddie said. “Jeb Ennis broke your daughter’s heart. I’d say his character leaves something to be desired.’’

Mama got up to clear her plate. “Sometimes it’s nobody’s fault when a romance fails, Maddie. Jeb was wild and free; Mace is cautious and careful. She was in college; he was in rodeo. Those buckle bunnies on the circuit wouldn’t leave him be. Maybe it was good man, bad match.’’

“He sure was good-looking.’’ Marty sipped from Mama’s glass.

“Still is,’’ I added, and left it at that.

Mama turned the toaster on the counter so she could check her lipstick in the reflection. “Maddie, I don’t know what possessed you to get this silver finish on all your appliances. You’re forever wiping off prints,’’ she said.

Maddie bit her tongue, and moved on to the toaster after scouring chicken grease and a ring of Mama’s sweet tea off the counter.

Hearing Mama say “prints’’ reminded me of fingerprints which reminded me of jail, which reminded me of the man who’d sent Mama there.

“I can’t believe I forgot to tell y’all something.’’ I slapped my injured forehead, which stung like crazy. “I did some research on the computer about Martinez.’’

Three sets of eyes turned toward me, as intent as my animals at feeding time.

“Remember when Emma Jean said something bad happened to him in Miami, Mama? He was a hotshot detective. A real star. Then his wife was murdered.’’

Marty gasped.

“It was during what they call a home invasion robbery. The bad guys push their way in, right through the front door, and then kill anyone in the house who might be a witness.’’

Mama’s eyes widened and her hand covered her mouth.

“How did it happen, Mace?’’ Only someone who knew Maddie like a sister would hear the quiver in her voice.

“Well, that’s the thing. Once I read the article, I understood why Martinez was so ready to believe Mama could be a killer.’’

“That doesn’t make sense,’’ Marty said.

“It will.’’ I folded my hands on the table. “Patricia Martinez had also been a police officer, until she quit to start a family. Like any good cop, she was suspicious and careful.’’