“Which Maddie knows because she watches the movies.”

We ignored Mama’s smart-aleck tone. “It was like a warning,” I told Fran.

Lowering herself onto a stool next to the rose-colored platform, she spit the straight pins into her palm. “That’s just awful.”

“Ronnie’s company was called Pig-Out BBQ and Catering, ” I explained. “Maybe somebody doesn’t want Alice to continue the business.”

Mama said, “Alice doesn’t even want to continue it. She told us it was bleeding money.”

Marty winced at the word choice. “Maybe somebody was trying to send a message to other restaurant owners to get out of the business or what happened to Ronnie …”

“… and that poor hog,” Fran interrupted.

“… will happen to them,” Maddie finished Marty’s thought.

“Maybe we should warn the Pork Pit and the Georgia Pig,” I said.

“Don’t forget that guy along State Road 70 with the trash can smoker who calls himself Pig Pickin’s,” Mama said. “He could be a target too, if somebody has a thing against barbecue.”

We all thought about that for a moment. Finally, Maddie shook her head firmly.

“Impossible,” said my sister, who never met a pulled pork platter she didn’t love. “It has to be about something else.”

I gazed into the woods of Himmarshee Park, all cool and green. The late-afternoon sun slanted through the branches of a cypress tree, washing me in slivers of golden light. This wooden park bench beat any pew beneath stained glass in a grand cathedral. In a way, the park was my cathedral.

“All set, Mace?”

Rhonda’s voice startled me out of my meditation on the glories of the outdoors.

“You bet, Boss. Heading home?”

She lifted an arm to show me her purse. Her car keys were in her hand. “You should have a dozen or so people show up for your nature walk. Some of the old folks from Leisure Lake trailer park are coming over in a van.”

“Sounds good.”

I actually preferred the senior citizens to students from Maddie’s middle school. Kids that age are tough to impress. The boys always try to act tough, and the girls squeal like idiots if they so much as see a spider.

“By the way, Mace …”

I cocked my head at her.

“Please show some patience if people ask stupid questions. Not everyone knows as much about the outdoors as you do.”

“I’ll be an ambassador of good will, Rhonda.”

She looked skeptical. But she waved anyway, gliding across the wooden deck outside our office. Her keys jingled like a soundtrack at a high-fashion runway show.

I glanced at my watch. It was almost six, which meant Rhonda was well past her quitting hour. I felt grateful, and not for the first time, that no one had ever seen fit to make me a manager.

The sunset walkers would arrive within forty minutes or so. And that would give me just enough time to feed the handful of injured or unwanted critters currently living in the park’s makeshift zoo. I hurried to the animal enclosure, where I was welcomed as usual by the white-striped presence of Pepe No Pew.

The de-scented skunk had been a pet, until his owner cruelly released him into the wild. As I pulled dinner together, he padded to the front of his pen. On the menu for Pepe: A chicken neck, a selection of chopped fruit and vegetables, and a couple of crickets and worms tossed into his pen so he could find them later.

Our residents generally included a few of the “nuisance” animals I trapped in my part-time job. The park had a wildlife license as part of our educational mission. I tried to expose visitors to some Florida critters; tried to convince them co-existence was possible. If only people could see how beautiful the corn snake was, for example, and how it wouldn’t hurt them if left alone, they’d be less likely to want it dead.

Or, that was my hope anyway.

“Hey, buddy. You get your mouse tomorrow,” I called out to the snake.

The creature lay coiled in the corner next to an elevated den I’d made of rocks, straw, and branches. A screen over the top of the pen kept him from slithering out.

“Not a bad crib, huh? You’ll be going back to the woods soon. Just think of this as an all-expenses-paid snake-cation.”

Carrying a large tray with the animals’ food, I made my way around the enclosure: The possum got a little moistened cat chow, bite-size chopped fruit, a raw egg, a splash of yogurt and, for the fish course, a couple of thawed silversides.

The raccoon got wet dog food, supplemented with a bit of fruit, fish, an egg, and a thawed baby chick.

My last stop was Pepe’s pad. Without his scent, the skunk was defenseless in the wild. So, he was stuck with us for life. Dropping food into his shallow bowl, I leaned in for a chat.

“You’re getting as fat as a fixed dog, you know that, Monsieur? Maybe we need to get you a little skunk-sized treadmill. Would you like that?”

Pepe raised his head. He seemed a tad dubious about that treadmill.

“Yeah, I know. I could stand to lose a couple of pounds myself. You should have seen me holding my breath to zip up this bridesmaid’s monstrosity that Mama’s making me wear on Saturday. Believe me, Pepe, that dress is awful enough without a big rip down the back to show off my lily-white butt.”

Pepe returned to his bowl as a low chuckle came from the entryway. I whirled, and felt my face catch fire.

“Tony! I didn’t hear you come in.”

He flashed a bright smile in the dim light of the enclosure. “I didn’t want to interrupt your Dr. Doolittle moment.”

“Yeah, Maddie gets after me for talking to the animals, too. It’s not like I think they’re going to open their mouths and talk back.”

“Of course not.”

His tone was amused. I couldn’t tell if he believed me. Better to change the subject. “What brings you to Himmarshee Park?”

“I saw a little blurb in today’s newspaper about the nature program. I thought I might be late. I stopped on the way to rescue a turtle trying to make it across the highway.”

Coming a bit closer, he peered into the snake’s section. He pulled back with a grimace, side-stepping away. So Tony was okay with turtles; snakes, not so much.

“The paper said this is the last walk until the fall brings cooler weather. I hoped you’d be leading it.”

I sensed another blush coming on. I was acting as silly as Maddie’s squealing schoolgirls. I had serious business to discuss. I couldn’t afford to be distracted by Tony’s charm, or those mesmerizing white teeth.

“Listen,” I said, draining all the levity from my voice, “I need to ask you some questions.”

“Should I have a lawyer present?” He smiled again, but a chill edged his voice. “Maybe your cousin Henry would agree to take me on as a client.”

“You don’t need a lawyer, Tony. And I apologize ahead of time if I’m out of line.”

I took a deep breath. “I was curious about you, so I went on the Internet and searched with your name.”

“And?” The cool edge had hardened to ice.

“And I found a lot of stuff about the Ciancio family being involved in restaurant-related crimes.”

He advanced a couple of steps toward me, then crossed his arms over his chest. His green eyes, smiley and warm before, were Arctic pools now.

“And?” he said, with a hint of menace.

I stepped to my right, positioning the snake’s pen between us. Tony moved no closer. I took the plunge.