“It will,’’ Marty agreed. “We also know that rattlesnake was planted in your jacket. All we have to do is find out who did it and why.’’

Marty made it sound simple. But I remembered the case from last summer. Nothing was simple about last summer.

___

I awoke with a start. I was sure it was Maddie, snoring. But when I listened, all I heard in the tent was the sound of my two sisters breathing. Marty’s breath was a gentle sigh. Maddie’s was raspy, but not loud enough to wake me from a deep sleep.

I sat up, shook the fuzz from my brain, and grabbed my watch from the toe of my boot. The luminescent dial read one-thirty. A horse whinnied. Palmetto fronds rustled in a slight breeze. And there was that sound again: A woman, sobbing.

A man spoke over the sobs. His words were hushed, indecipherable. But the masculine timbre of his voice and the angry tone were clear. He said something, and then the woman’s sobs intensified—a sad, strangled sound.

Grabbing the lantern from the corner of the tent where I’d left it, I turned it on. The light was dim, the batteries weak. Swinging the lamp inside the tent, I felt on the floor for my coat. I picked up Marty’s first, which would never fit. I found Maddie’s next, which would have to do.

The sobbing outside abruptly stopped. I wondered if, seeing my light, the man had clamped his hand over the woman’s mouth.

I hurried into my boots, leaving the laces undone.

“Maddie!’’ I shook her shoulder. “I heard something. Someone’s in trouble.’’

“Huh?’’ She covered her head with her pillow. “Go away, Mace.’’

I didn’t want to waste time rousing her. I crawled out the door of the tent, and started in the direction of the sobs. But the woods were quiet now. I stopped, straining to listen. I thought I heard brush moving in the distance, but it might have been the wind.

Suddenly, I whirled around at a familiar sound. An off-key whistler was approaching our tent, coming from the opposite direction from where I’d heard the sobs.

“Doc!’’ I hissed. “What are you doing out here?’’

“Who’s there?’’ He shined a flashlight in my direction.

“It’s Mace, Doc. I heard a woman crying, somewhere out there.’’ I pointed my lamp into the distance. “Did you hear anything?’’

“Not a peep.’’ He shook his head. “But I was coming the other way, from over by the campfire.’’ He turned and aimed his light behind him.

Together, we headed into the woods to look. We made big circles with our lights, but saw nothing. Whoever had been there was gone now. No voices broke the stillness; no sobs in the night.

“I wonder who it was?’’

Doc shrugged. “Probably some couple, having a lovers’ quarrel. Everybody’s acting peculiar on this trip. People at the campfire tonight were trading all sorts of stories. Somebody asked me about that chili cup, Mace. You should have never told people about your suspicions.’’

I picked a leaf from a hickory tree and started to shred it. “I didn’t, Doc. But you know how people are: Somebody overhears something, and the next thing you know it’s all over camp. Then you’ve got a crowd of people seeing clues everywhere, like they’re extras on CSI: The Cracker Trail.’’

Doc huffed, “Well, I don’t like it. All this speculation isn’t helping Lawton’s family one bit. And they need all the help they can get.’’

He crossed his arms and stared. I wasn’t going to defend myself, since I hadn’t done anything wrong. I was thinking of what to say next when Doc saved me the trouble.

“Did that policeman friend of yours get somebody to take the cup?’’

I nodded, and pulled another leaf off the tree. “All of this might be moot if the state lab doesn’t find anything. But a lot of strange things have been happening, and they all seem to start with Lawton’s death. I think it’d be foolish of us not to wonder why.’’

I looked up into the black sky, just in time to spot a shooting star. My wish was for a safe ride the rest of the way to Fort Pierce. And, I wished for things to start making sense. That last part I felt I had a little bit of control over.

“Why’d you leave the campfire, Doc?’’ I asked.

“I got sick of hearing people run their mouths. It was awful smoky, too.’’ He breathed deeply. “Thought I’d take a little walk and get some fresh air into my lungs before I turn in.’’

He shone his light on his wristwatch. “It’ll be time for breakfast before we know it. I just want to enjoy the night air and these beautiful stars for a little bit longer.’’

He accompanied me back to the tent, where we said our goodbyes.

As he left, murdering “Whistle While You Work,” I got into the tent. It wasn’t until later, as I was drifting off, that I wondered: Why would a man who claimed to detest the woods be out having a walk, enjoying all of nature’s glories?

My sisters and I spotted Audrey sneaking a smoke behind the food trailer. It was breakfast time. But another foggy morning would delay our grub, and the ride. We decided to corner her in the meantime, to see what we could find out about her boss, Johnny.

“Mornin’,’’ I said, as the three of us approached off Audrey’s right flank.

She jumped, hiding the hand with the cigarette behind her back. “You scared the crap out of me! If Johnny sees me smoking, he’ll kill me. I told him I quit two weeks ago.’’ She smiled guiltily, took a last drag, and carefully extinguished the half-smoked butt on the trailer’s metal hitch. Then she straightened the remainder and slipped it into a pocket of her server’s apron.

“For later?’’ Marty asked.

Audrey nodded, mischief lighting her eyes.

“You really should quit, you know. Smoking is a filthy habit,’’ Maddie said.

I ground my elbow into my sister’s side. “Don’t we all have habits we wish we didn’t have?’’ I smiled at Audrey. “All of us except Maddie, that is.’’

Marty got to the point before Maddie could insult Audrey again. “We were wondering, how’s Johnny’s hand? That looked like a pretty bad burn. Were you there when he did it?’’

“Occupational hazard.’’ Audrey shrugged. “It’s not the first time he burned himself on something hot. Won’t be the last.’’

“So you saw him do it?’’ I asked.

“No, but I’ve seen it before. He cusses like a drunken cowboy and blames everyone in sight. I’m glad I wasn’t around this time to catch the flak.’’

“What’s the story with you two?’’ Maddie asked.

Audrey raised her eyebrows. Marty pinched Maddie’s other side.

“I think what Maddie means is that you seem to have such an easy, joking way with Johnny.’’ My smile was warm. “You two must have worked together for a long time.’’

Audrey beamed, her feelings for her boss shining in her eyes. “It’ll be twenty years this June. I just planned to work at the restaurant the summer after high school. But Johnny needed me, so I stayed on. And on, and on.’’

What was the best way to phrase my next question? I wished I’d rehearsed with Marty.

“So you started working for Johnny right around the time Barbara Bramble died.’’ I decided on the open-ended approach. “I know he was awfully close to her.’’

Pain flickered briefly across Audrey’s face. “It about killed Johnny when Barb died.’’

“So tragic, too. An accident like that,’’ Maddie said, finally climbing down off her high horse.

Audrey’s face hardened. “An accident, yes. That’s what everybody said.’’ She took the cigarette from her apron and re-lit it.