The VW bounced under a canopy of live oaks. The air smelled clean from the rain. The downpour had revived the resurrection ferns that grow on the trees’ branches, turning them from dull brown to deep green.

No sooner had I pulled onto Highway 98 than my cell phone started to ring. It was in my purse, which was on the floor. Of course. Bracing the steering wheel between my knees, I placed the mug of tea on the dashboard’s least perilous spot and reached for the phone with my free hand. Thank God there was no other traffic on the highway.

“Hey, Mace. I’ve got some interesting news for you.’’

At a bump in the road, the tea started to topple. To rescue it, I had to drop the phone. I played it safe and dumped the rest of the hot chamomile out the window.

“I’m sorry,’’ I said, jamming the phone back to my ear. “Who is this?’’

“Donnie Bailey. From the jail?’’

I flashed on a massive chest and manly mustache.

“Of course, Donnie. How are you?’’

“Pretty good. I hope you don’t mind me calling you on your cell. When your mama stayed with us, she listed you as her emergency contact. She gave us both your home and cell numbers.’’

I dabbed with a napkin from my purse at a small puddle of herbal tea on the dashboard. “Did you say something about news, Donnie?’’ I was an advertisement for dangerous distractions behind the wheel.

“I thought you might want to know you were right.’’

“About?’’

“The other night on the road, when you said there was another car there? You were right and I was wrong. I owe you an apology. I just saw the report.’’

Now Donnie had my full attention. Driving was on automatic pilot. The road to Mama’s rolled past, nearly unnoticed.

“They found a second set of tire imprints where your car went off the road, Mace. Both tracks veered off the pavement onto the shoulder. Yours kept going, on into that ditch. But the other vehicle steered back onto the roadway. The investigator took a bunch of black-and-white pictures and made an impression with casting powder.’’

“What’s that?’’

“It’s kind of like pancake batter, except you’d never want to eat it. You pour it into the track, it gets real hard, and then you can lift it out. You can use the impression to compare to the bad guy’s tire. That’s the good news. The bad news is you have to find the bad guy’s car first, so you can compare.’’

“Can they tell what kind of tire it is?’’

“The impression wasn’t the greatest. They know the tread was worn, and it’s a big tire, like for a pickup.’’

“Great. That means it could have been just about anybody in Himmarshee. Trucks are as common here as taxicabs in New York. Everybody’s got one; or knows someone who does.’’

“Guilty as charged, Mace.’’ Donnie laughed. “I’ve got a brother drives a pickup.’’

“See? That’s my point.’’

“That’s not all, Mace. They couldn’t find any usable paint chip evidence, either. The other driver must have just tapped that spare tire that sticks out where it’s mounted on the back of your Jeep. It would have been better if they’d really hit you hard, painted metal to metal. That would have left behind something to analyze.’’

I remembered my terror on that dark road; the black water swirling around my legs. All that from a tap.

“Yeah, well, a harder impact might have made me flip. And we probably wouldn’t be having this talk right now.’’

“Oh, Mace … I’m … I’m … sorry.’’ Donnie was flustered. “I sure didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Of course it’s better that you’re alive.’’

“That’s all right, Donnie.’’ I thought of babysitting him. Teary eyes on the floor, he’d stammered out an apology for breaking his mama’s vase. “I know what you meant.’’

I was approaching Himmarshee. I’d been so intent on talking to Donnie, I could barely remember getting there. Luckily, it wasn’t an auction day, when the traffic on the highway would be busier.

“Listen, I better get off the phone. You being in law enforcement, I’d hate to tell you how little attention I’ve paid to my driving this morning.’’

Donnie chuckled. “You’re not the only one, Mace. Have you seen all the things people do in their cars these days? I saw a girl yesterday with a hamburger in one hand, putting on her mascara with the other.’’

“Did you bust her?’’

“Nah. She poked herself in the eye and dropped the hamburger in her lap when she saw me in my uniform. Nobody pays attention to the road anymore, Mace.’’

Donnie was right about that. And, on this morning at least, that wasn’t a good thing.

Mama stood on the walkway in front of her house, tapping her foot and staring at her watch. The color of the day was yellow, from the chiffon scarf around her neck to the sling-back sandals on her feet. Standing in the bright morning sun, she looked like a four-foot-eleven-inch lemon slush. Her white puff of platinum hair could have been a straw, peeking out over the rim of the slushy cup.

Teensy was barking, spinning like a circus dog, on the other side of her living room window. Mama turned to blow him a final kiss, and rushed to the car. “I thought you’d never get here, Mace.’’

I looked at my watch. “Mama, it’s only twenty-five minutes after eight. I’m early.’’

Settling into the seat, she glanced again at her wrist. “So you are, Mace. I’m sorry. I’m as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. I barely know Pastor Bob. I can’t imagine why he’d call me for this meeting about Emma Jean.’’

I told her about my own strange call.

“She never even bothered to show up, Mama, after calling past midnight.’’

“That’s nice, honey.’’ She turned the rearview mirror to apply more lipstick. Fishing a tissue from her purse, she blotted. “Now, what do you suppose Pastor Bob is going to want me to do about Emma Jean?’’

“I have no earthly idea,’’ I said sharply. “And there’s no sense in worrying about it now. Why don’t you wait the five minutes it’ll take us to drive over? Then you can ask him yourself.’’

She aimed a glare at me. “You know, little Missy, you’re not too old to spank. No one likes a girl with a smart mouth.’’

I punched on the radio. They’d just started a news break. We arrived at Abundant Hope before they’d even finished the weather. Temperatures in the nineties. Afternoon thundershowers. Not exactly news in central Florida in September. Still, it was the height of hurricane season, and the northern edge of the county was still recovering from a relatively weak storm in June. So the fact nothing new was gathering strength in the tropics was a hopeful sign.