We all went quiet as Sal licked pizza grease from his fingers. Mama handed him a napkin, which he folded, unused, and placed beside his plate. “They don’t have a whole lot yet, to tell you the truth. It’s still early in the investigation. They do know the victim was killed where he was found.’’

“Really?’’ I said. “Out in the open like that?’’

“Well, there was no blood trail. You and Rosie might have walked right in on a homicide in progress if that morning’s horse scene hadn’t taken so long to film.’’

An image of Norman splayed on the fence ran through my mind. Who had brought about such an undignified end for such a powerful man?

“I’m surprised nobody heard the shot,’’ Maddie said.

“Suppressor.’’ A quartet of puzzled looks were aimed at Sal.

“Commonly called a silencer,’’ he clarified. “And the weapon was small caliber.’’

I digested that detail, along with the pizza.

“What about all the other strange things that have happened on the set?’’ Mama asked. “Does Carlos think they’re related to the murder?’’

Sal extracted another piece from the “everything’’ box. “That’s still unclear.’’

“Did the cops find out where that sandwich Tilton had came from?’’ I asked.

“Tilton told them a whole basket of food was left in the fridge in his trailer. He assumed it was from the production office,’’ Sal said. “He ate one of the sandwiches in the morning, with no ill effects. The second one was the one the raccoon got.’’

Sal shoveled the pizza slice into his mouth. With her usual precise timing, Maddie asked him a question just then. “Is Carlos still looking into whether someone tampered with that light that nearly killed Mace?’’

He put up a hand until he could swallow. “All I know is he’s considering every aspect. He’s under an awful lot of stress, Maddie. It’s not the best time to ask him about Mace.’’

Mama must have pinched him under the table, because Sal suddenly clapped a hand over his mouth. “Jeez, sorry Mace. I meant stress from the case. I wasn’t implying you’re the reason for his stress.’’

The four of them looked at me with sad cow eyes. “I don’t need your pity.’’ I pushed an uneaten slice and a few stray black olives around my plate. “I couldn’t care less what Carlos thinks about me. I’m doing fine.’’

Glances were exchanged, but no one challenged me on that flat-out lie. Mama topped off her glass with sweet pink wine, and then offered the box to me. I waved it away.

“Well, let’s see if you are doing fine.’’ Maddie began to tick off points on her fingers. “You’ve managed to piss off a man who loves you, punch out one who doesn’t, and all while someone else might have tried to kill you. Oh, yeah, and that devil Jeb Ennis keeps hanging around like a pit bull after a bitch in heat.’’

Maddie displayed her hand, with the pinky the only digit left un-ticked. “I’d say you’re doing just Jim Dandy, Mace.’’

Raising her brow, Mama hefted the wine box toward me again. This time, I motioned her to tip that sucker over and keep on pouring.

Dew sparkled on the pasture as if God had tossed out a diamond to adorn every blade of grass. Early morning light glinted off the water in the horse trough. At this time of day, the sun was as welcome as an old friend. By noon, I’d be cursing it as a fiery sweat-ball sent straight from hell by the devil.

As I neared the corral, the horses nickered a greeting. It wasn’t so much that they were ecstatic to see me, as it was the buckets of feed I carried. Still, I gave them a loud how-do whistle in return.

I was all alone this morning, which was fine by me. I’d exhausted my patience for family fun at last night’s pizza dinner. And if I never had to cater to another Hollywood type, I’d be a happy gal. I had a break on that front. Jesse’s next lesson wasn’t until the afternoon; and no horse scenes were planned for the morning.

Even though the animals weren’t needed for filming, they still needed to eat. So here I was: hefting hay and measuring out sweet feed and supplements for my equine charges.

A good-natured Appaloosa mare nosed my shirt collar as I tried to open the gate. A little pony banged its head against the slats of the fence, trying to reach into the feed bucket.

“Go on, get back, now!’’ I shouted. “Y’all better show me some manners, or nobody eats.’’

They knew my threats were hollow. Like Mama with her beloved Teensy, I was a soft touch for the big, pitiful eyes of begging horses.

When I was done distributing breakfast, I returned to the trailer with the empty buckets. I spent some time straightening tack and seeing what supplies were needed. When I came out, the horses had finished eating. They were shifting nervously around the corral. I stopped and closed my eyes, trying to hear what they heard: A crow cawed from a fence post. Cattle lowed in their pen across the pasture. The horses circled the enclosure. Their hooves striking the sandy ground made the sound of muffled clapping.

Then I heard a murmur of distant voices, human voices. Across the way, at the cow pen, I saw Kelly Conover and her mysterious protector, Sam. Her mouth was moving, and her palms were raised to the sky. Sam stood with his head bowed and his hands in his pockets, a short distance from Kelly. I couldn’t distinguish her words, but from her posture, it looked like she was praying. I’d certainly seen her utter a curse, and finish it off by spitting on the ground. I couldn’t believe she was now seeking an audience in the opposite spiritual realm.

Sam waited until she finished, and then he wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. She rested her head for a moment against his chest, and then pushed away. When one of the horses gave a loud whinny, both of them looked over toward the corral.

They couldn’t have missed me, standing by the fence and gawking at them like I was at a carnival sideshow. I gave a half-hearted wave, and then turned my attention to the horses.

I hoped my lack of enthusiasm would signal I didn’t want company. But the idea she wasn’t wanted wasn’t likely to occur to a woman like Kelly. She started toward me across the field, Sam trailing at her heels like a faithful pet. I boosted myself up onto the fence’s top rail to await my audience with Hollywood royalty.

“Morning,’’ Kelly called cheerfully.

Sam offered a wave that was at least as heartfelt as mine.

“It’s Mace, right?’’

I nodded at Kelly.

“These horses are really beautiful. You do a great job taking care of them.’’ Kelly’s smile was brighter than the morning sun. I felt myself warming to her. “We’re lucky they hired you on as wrangler. Believe me, not everyone is as conscientious as you are about the job.’’

I knew I was grinning like an idiot. It turned out flattery from a mega-star worked just as well on me as it did on most other people. I tipped my cowgirl hat and scuffed at the rail below me with my boot heel, playing up my yokel’s role. “Aw, shucks, ma’am. Thanks!’’

A sly smile transformed Sam’s face—the first time I’d seen any expression aside from a frown of worry or concern. So it seemed there was a personality there, behind those studious eyeglasses and steadfast devotion to Kelly.

“I couldn’t help but notice you over there with your palms raised. I don’t mean to get personal, but were you praying?’’

I expected her to burst out laughing. Hollywood wasn’t exactly known for its godly devotion.

“That’s exactly what I was doing. Praying for forgiveness, in fact.’’

“Don’t look so shocked,’’ Sam said. “Not everyone in the movie industry is a godless heathen.’’

“I didn’t think they were,’’ I lied.

“Right,’’ Kelly said. “In fact, Sam was just about born in a pew. His dad was the pastor of a little storefront church.’’