Maddie yanked the collar of my shirt and cut in front. “Is your nephew in the Mafia?”

C’ndee backed against the sink, holding up her hands. “Marty, call your sisters off, would’ya? For Gawd’s sake, I thought you Southerners were supposed to be so polite!”

Maddie crossed her arms and glared. I mumbled an apology. “We just have so many things we want to ask you.”

“I’ll take Maddie’s last question first.” C’ndee held up a finger. “No, Tony is not in the Mafia. And, as a proud Italian-American, I resent your assumption that he is.”

“We read about the family’s criminal enterprise up north,” I said.

She recovered quickly. “Sins of the fathers, ladies. You can’t blame Tony for his dad’s business dealings. Not that I’m saying any of that crap in the papers is true.”

I started to interrupt, but she held up a hand. “I believe I have the floor, Mace. Secondly, I’m not going to jail. Tony was about to call in the legal pit bulls when I phoned him last night to tell him I wasn’t being held, or even formally questioned. That cop, Carlos, was nothing but nice.”

“Really?” I couldn’t help myself.

She nodded. “He was much more interested in Darryl than in me. Now ladies, I don’t believe in regrets when it comes to men. But if I did, I’d regret my … uh, dalliance … with Darryl. That is one nasty cafone.”

“Amen.” I wasn’t sure what a cafone was, but I figured it wasn’t good. “Does Carlos think Darryl killed Ronnie?”

She shrugged. “Hard to tell.” She opened the lipstick again and re-applied.

“As for where I went …” She blotted her mouth. “I just needed time alone to think. I really did care for Ronnie. More than you might imagine. We planned to go into business, but it was more than that. I thought we’d settle down, maybe even marry, after he and Alice were divorced.”

C’ndee’s voice shook a bit. I looked at Maddie, whose arms were still tightly folded. Marty’s face, though, mirrored the sad expression on C’ndee’s. I came down in the middle: not as skeptical as Maddie; not as trusting as Marty.

C’ndee dropped her lipstick into her big purse and snapped the top with finality.

“Now, I’d like to get a drink and offer your mother my best wishes.” She glanced at her rhinestone-clotted watch. “I have a little surprise for her, too. Should arrive at any minute.”

She pushed through the door and we followed, three little ducklings brought into line.

Spotting Linda-Ann loading up on fried fish, shrimp, and wings at the buffet, I detoured in her direction. My sisters flanked me. After we said our hellos, I pointed to her plate.

“Guess you’re not a strict vegetarian.”

“Don’t tell Trevor.” She popped a shrimp into her mouth, not looking terribly guilty.

“Linda-Ann, didn’t you hear anything I said about being true to yourself?”

Marty chimed in. “Mace gave you good advice, honey. You should do things because you believe in them, not because somebody else forces you.”

“Trevor never forced me.”

On the jukebox, Charlie Daniels launched into the loud fiddle solo on “Devil Went Down to Georgia.” Maddie leaned right into Linda-Ann’s face. “You’re telling us you dressed as a pig and scared those poor folks at the Pork Pit because you wanted to? Linda-Ann, I know you were never a top student, but you couldn’t be that dumb.”

I pinched Maddie’s left arm. Marty tugged on her right to drag her from Linda-Ann’s personal space.

“Let’s find a table,” my little sister said.

The lights were only on in half the dining room; the rest of the room was closed. The only empty seats were at Alice Hodges’ table. I led the way across the dance floor.

“Okay if we sit down?” I asked.

Alice nodded without looking at us.

“Are you getting enough to eat?” Marty said. “Can we get you anything?”

The food on her plate looked untouched. A glass of wine, on the other hand, was nearly gone. A second, full glass, awaited.

Alice glanced up. “I’m fine.” Her gaze rested on Linda-Ann. To the younger woman’s credit, she held out her hand.

“I’m Linda-Ann, Mrs. Hodges. I’m real sorry for your loss. I knew Ronnie from when he worked at the feed store. He used to add in a little something extra once in a while for my horse, Lucky. He sure was a nice man.”

Tears sprang to Marty’s eyes. But Alice kept her composure. “Thank you, dear. That’s kind of you to tell me that.”

We took our seats. An awkward moment passed, when none of us seemed to know what to say. But Maddie has never seen a silence she can’t fill.

“We were just talking to Linda-Ann about how she and her boyfriend dressed up like pigs for a protest.”

Alice raised an eyebrow.

“Trevor says we should love animals, not eat them,” Linda-Ann recited. “Trevor says meat is murder.”

She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, Mrs. Hodges.”

Alice gave her a weak smile.

“Her boyfriend’s beliefs are very passionate,” I explained.

“I’m a vegetarian now, just like Trevor.” Linda-Ann seemed to remember the animal parts crowding her plate. “Well, not a hundred percent.”

Maddie harrumphed. “Trevor sounds like a fanatic, Linda-Ann. How much do you really know about him?”

In her kindest tone, Marty said, “Honey, I’m a vegetarian, too. But it should be enough to do what you think is right. You don’t have to bully everybody else into doing the same.”

Linda-Ann tossed another shrimp in her mouth, chewed and swallowed thoughtfully.

“We never do what I want to do. It’s always protest, protest, protest. To tell the truth, I do feel kind of stupid yelling at people in that pig suit. And the plastic head smells nasty inside.”

She made such a face, my sisters and I laughed. Even Alice smiled. “I can’t imagine dressing up in that costume,” she said. “I grew up on a hog farm. I’ve seen pigs enough to last a lifetime.”

Just as Garth Brooks started up on the jukebox with “Friends in Low Places,” the door flung open. It let in a shaft of light, along with the best-looking cowboy I’d ever seen. Black hat, fitted snap-button shirt with most of the snaps unfastened, and leather chaps that showed off exactly what he was packing in those skin-tight Wranglers.

“Here’s our entertainment, girls.” C’ndee’s shout was part sideshow barker, part Jersey turnpike toll-taker. “Now, get those dollar bills ready and crank up the sexy!”

A funeral home hush fell over the Speckled Perch. Disapproval radiated off most of Mama’s guests. The mouths of the rest of them hung open in shock. On the jukebox, Garth Brooks wound up, leaving the place in complete silence. The sexy cowboy pushed his hat back on his head and frowned.

“This is the place, isn’t it?” he asked C’ndee.

“Surprise, Rosalee!” Aiming for gaiety, C’ndee struck a desperate note instead. “This gorgeous hunk is named Houston.”

Linda-Ann breathed, “Ohmigod! He used to date a girl I went to high school with. He is so hot.”

Whispers spread through the room like ripples in a pond. Panic flickered in Mama’s eyes, but she hadn’t lived through three rotten marriages in the gossip capital of Florida for nothing. She clapped her hands together and plastered on a smile. “C’mon, gals. Houston is here all the way from Texas.”

“He’s from Apopka, Florida,” Linda-Ann said in my ear.

“Let’s show him a warm Himmarshee welcome,” Mama chirped.