What were they putting in the water at the Himmarshee Library? Our mild-mannered sister was becoming a spitfire. I spoke before Maddie could come back with something mean.

“Well, he sure looks guilty. Delilah couldn’t find his gun when Mama and I were at the house this afternoon. But she found the paperwork on it. It’s a revolver, a Smith & Wesson.”

Maddie slid the box to her side of the table. “What’d Detective Martinez say?’’ She rolled up her second slice like a burrito and chomped off the end.

“You know how he is,’’ I said. “Played it close to the vest, as usual. But he perked right up when I told him Pastor Bob owned a .38.’’

“Is that the kind of gun that killed Jim Albert?’’ Marty asked.

“Martinez wouldn’t say. I tried calling Henry, but he left his law office early. He’s taking the kids to Disney, and you know what that means.’’

“A thousand rides on Space Mountain and no pesky cell phone,’’ Maddie said.

“Anyway, Martinez was awfully interested in the Dixons’ marital problems and the missing money. He planned to talk to Delilah today. Mama and I offered to be there, but she turned us down. I think it gave her something else to focus on besides worrying how everyone will react to her tomorrow at the prayer breakfast.’’

“Poor Delilah.’’ Marty nibbled on a sliver of crust. She stared at us, blue eyes immense and serious in her small face. “Have y’all considered how many questions are still unanswered? For example, what happened to Emma Jean?’’

Maddie chose her third slice from Marty’s meatless side. “Maybe she found out Pastor Bob killed her boyfriend. He had to kill her, too, before she told the police.’’

I remembered how out-of-control Emma Jean had been at Abundant Hope; how distraught she’d sounded when she called me on the phone.

“Remember what Mama told us about Emma Jean’s little boy going missing all those years ago?’’ I said. “Maybe she couldn’t take losing another loved one. Maybe she walked into Taylor Creek and just kept walking until she drowned.’’

“Maybe a moccasin bit her.’’ Marty shuddered.

“Then why haven’t they found a body?’’ Maddie asked.

“She could be caught up under a fallen log,’’ I said. “A gator could’ve dragged her off. You know how the swamps are, Maddie. A lot can stay hidden in there.’’

“You’re the swamp rat, Mace. I stay out of that mess.’’ She took a compact from her purse and swiped at a tomato sauce smear on her chin. “Anyway, there’s another person whose behavior has seemed mighty suspicious. Sal Provenza. Mama’s Yankee fiancé.’’ She snapped shut her compact like an exclamation point.

Marty, studying a cartoon Italian chef on the pizza box, said nothing.

“It is strange how he won’t reveal anything about his life in New York before he retired to Himmarshee,’’ I said. “But all of a sudden Mama seems convinced he’s on the up-and-up. Do you think he told her something to put her mind at ease; something she hasn’t told us?’’

“Ha!’’ Maddie slapped the table, causing the pizza box—and Marty—to jump. “That’s a good one, Mace,’’ she said. “Asking Mama to keep a secret is like asking a sieve to hold water.’’

Our little sister remained silent, eyes cast down to the napkin she was shredding.

“Well, Martinez seems to have shifted from thinking Sal is Public Enemy Number One,’’ I said. “Sal may be okay, if we can trust Martinez. And I’m not saying for sure that I do.’’

Marty lifted her face. “Of course you can trust Carlos, Mace,’’ she said. “He’s a policeman. They protect and serve. It’s an oath.’’

Maddie snorted. “Get real, Marty. Haven’t you ever heard of police corruption? The man is from Miami, after all. Maybe he and Sal were both involved with Jim Albert in something fishy. And they murdered him to take all the profits.’’

We sat quietly for a few moments, digesting our pizza and our theories.

Marty finally cleared her throat, an apologetic sound. “There is one person we haven’t mentioned, Mace.’’ Her voice was a whisper, as if by speaking negatively she might unsettle the universe. I knew right away which conversational planet she was circling.

“Jeb Ennis,’’ I said. “You can talk about him, Marty.’’

“That devil again.’’ Maddie looked like she wanted to curse Jeb and spit on the floor. “I’d be the first one to march him straight to jail. But even I have to say the pastor seems to have a better motive for the murder than Jeb Ennis does.’’

Marty’s shredded napkins were a snow bank in her lap. “He owed Jim Albert an awful lot of money, Maddie.’’

“Yes, but we don’t know about Bob Dixon, do we? He must have been financially desperate to take that hurricane money—to allegedly take it,’’ she said, with a nod at Marty. “Maybe he also borrowed from Jim Albert.’’

“Or, maybe the minister killed him so he could steal his money,’’ I said.

“Either way,’’ Maddie said, “a man as vain as Bob Dixon had to be humiliated that his dowdy old wife took up with someone else for a roll in the hay.’’

“A roll on a dirty plaid couch,’’ I said. “Delilah said it reeked of cigarettes.’’

“Whatever.’’ Maddie waved her hand. “The point is men do crazy things when women are involved. That leads me to the reason I don’t believe Jeb did it.’’

Marty’s eyes went round. “What do you mean?’’

“No matter what else I think about Jeb, I do believe he loved Mace.’’

“Loved her and regretted breaking her heart,’’ Marty said.

“So? What do Jeb’s old feelings for me have to do with anything?’’ I asked.

“The person who killed Jim Albert ran you off the road when you started asking too many questions,’’ Maddie said. “That wreck could have been a lot more serious, Mace. You could have been killed.’’

Marty gasped and grabbed at her throat, just the way Mama does.

“Yes, Maddie, but I wasn’t. I’m okay.’’ I reached over and patted my baby sister’s hand.

“Thank the Lord for that.’’ Maddie inclined her head to the poster Jesus. “Jeb Ennis wouldn’t do anything to hurt the woman he loved; maybe even still loves. He wouldn’t endanger you that way, Mace.’’

Maddie sounded so sure. I almost opened my mouth to tell her how I’d felt that afternoon in the park by Ollie’s pond: Stalked. Endangered. Not to mention confused, as I watched Jeb peel out with the windows rolled tight in a truck that was supposed to be stifling.

But in the end, I didn’t say a word to my sisters. I never told them how frightened I’d been that day.