She narrowed her eyes. “From what I hear, your brother-in-law killed my sister. I expect he got carried away. Some people aren’t capable of knowing when to stop.’’ The chilly tone had returned. “Not that it will bring back Camilla, but I take some comfort in knowing he’ll be punished. I understand Florida employs an electric chair.’’

“Not anymore,’’ Mama said. “They retired Ol’ Sparky from Death Row after a couple of condemned men caught fire during their executions.’’

“How barbaric.’’ Prudence shuddered.

“We give them the needle now,’’ Mama added.

“Kenny is not getting the needle, because he didn’t do it,’’ I said. “If one of my sisters had been murdered, I’d be out trying to find out who killed her. I wouldn’t be dressed up like Halloween for a swingers’ session.’’

Prudence glared at me, crop hitting leather-clad thigh.

“Now, girls …”

Prudence interrupted Mama, words exploding from her mouth. “The point is your sister was not murdered. Mine was. I needed a distraction from my grief. A release, if you will. When Angel asked me to come tonight, I leapt at the chance to lose myself for a few hours.”

Mama nodded agreeably. “That’s certainly understandable.’’

“Whose side are you on?’’ I asked her.

Ignoring me, Mama lowered her voice and nudged Prudence in the ribs. “So, what will y’all do in there?’’

“Wouldn’t you like to know? There’s only one sure way to find out.’’ She pointed to the door with the riding crop.

I sneaked a peek through the window. The granny was kneeling in front of one of the suits. He wasn’t wearing his suit.

If I were alone, I might have considered going inside, partly out of curiosity and partly to see what I could find out about this crowd. But with my Sunday-school-teaching mother in tow? No way. Before Mama could barge through the door, I answered for both of us.

“We’ll take a rain check. Would you do me a favor, though? Ask Angel to call me as soon as she can. I’d like to know a little bit more about tonight’s invitees.’’

“Angel’s the one with all the answers.’’ Prudence struck a mysterious tone.

“Not Jason?’’ I asked. “He’s the one who told me to come tonight.’’

She snorted. “Jason is a pretty boy-toy, nothing more. Angel calls the shots.’’

She placed the crop under Mama’s chin, lifting her face. “So you’re curious about spanking, are you?’’ She stared into Mama’s eyes, affecting a strict headmistress voice. “Have you been a bad girl, Rosalee?’’

“Never!’’ Mama said.

Prudence smiled, switched to her normal voice. “You’re supposed to say yes.’’

“Okay, yes.’’

The muscles flexed in Prudence’s slender arm, as taut as steel cords. The crop made a swish as it cut through the air. She brought it down, hard, against Mama’s bottom.

“Ouch!’’ Mama’s hand flew to her rear end. “That’s not sexy. It stung like a nest of wasps.’’

“Pain is pleasure, Rosalee. Remember that.’’ Prudence tucked the crop under one arm and lit a cigarette. A curl of smoke rose.

“That was not pleasure; it was pure pain.’’ Mama rubbed her butt. “I can tell you one thing. If Sal spanked me that hard, I’d knock him out with a frying pan. That man never even leaves a mark.”

I put my hands over my ears. “Have you never heard the phrase, ‘Too Much Information,’ Mama?’’

_____

Jason did not show, and neither did the Grafs. We stayed on the porch until the party inside moved to a more intense phase. I heard the slap of Prudence’s crop against naked flesh. There were muffled shrieks and moans of pleasure. The music switched from loud rock to seductive rhythm and blues. “Let’s Get it On,’’ indeed. When the light through the windows dimmed, I took that as our exit cue.

Crossing to the parking lot, I slid a small penlight from my pocket. “Got anything to write with?’’ I whispered.

Mama dug in her purse, pulling out a pen and a bank withdrawal slip. I shone the light on the Porsche, reading off the license numbers as she wrote them down. Sure enough, the tag holder advertised a luxury car dealer in Palm Beach County. We moved around to the other vehicles, recording each tag number. I may have come to look for the mayor, but I found several other people who shared his kinky tastes. Registered owners of vehicles are public records in Florida. I had no intention of relying solely on Angel to reveal the invitees on her party list.

I needed their names for my suspect list.

fifty

“I’m as full as a tick on a fat dog. Why’d you let me have that second piece of butterscotch pie, Mace?”

“I didn’t put a gun to your head. I told you it wasn’t a good idea to follow a big breakfast with a double serving of pie at four-thirty in the morning.’’

“I just want to climb into my nice soft bed and go to sleep.’’ Mama yawned.

We’d been wound up after our excursion to the swingers’ soiree. I suggested a trip to the twenty-four-hour truck stop in Sebring for ham, eggs, and hashed browns. I’d taken over driving halfway back to Himmarshee. As I looked across the front seat of Mama’s big convertible, I saw her eyelids fluttering, and her head dropping down toward her chest.

Now, the radio was turned up and the windows were rolled down. I told her she had to stay awake and talk to me until I got us to my house. I already regretted that, and we weren’t even halfway there.

“What do you think you’ll do about Carlos? Is it over for good? Do you think you’d be in this situation if you’d taken my advice?’’

“Hmm?’’ I said, acting distracted. “This mess with Kenny is really on my mind. I thought we could go over who we think are likely suspects to have killed Camilla.’’

Mama took up the challenge. “My money’s on the mayor. He’s as sleazy as they come, playing around with all those different girls.’’

I told her what Marty and I had discovered about his S & M encounter at the NoTell Motel with a woman with an English accent.

“That seals it,’’ she said. “His partner had to be Camilla. They were involved in some kind of sexual game. It got out of hand. He accidentally killed her, but he couldn’t report it. Not with him spouting off all during his campaign about family values. So, he dumped her body to get rid of the problem.’’

I knew she could be right. Still, I felt there was more to the story of the mayor and Camilla than we knew.

“Who else had a good reason to want her dead?’’

“You mean besides Kenny?’’ Mama asked.

I cut my eyes at her. “Obviously.’’

“I’m just trying to think like your former fiancé would. And speaking of that, I have some ideas about how you could win Carlos back.’’

“Could we attend to the matter at hand?’’

She slid across the bench seat and placed her finger with the giant wedding ring over my left hand. “This is the matter at hand. Your ring-less hand.’’

“Mama, could you please focus on your other daughter? Her marriage is on life-support. If we let Kenny go to prison, it’s like pulling the plug. They won’t survive that.’’

I thought about Maddie’s unborn child, and his or her absent father. I thought about that child, growing up with a convicted murderer for a daddy. I would not let that happen.

“Suspects,’’ I said. “That’s what we need to concentrate on.”

“Okay, what about the swinging barmaid, Miss Hotsy Totsy what’s-her-name?’’

“Angel.’’

“Never was a name more inappropriate.’’

“You just don’t like her. Admit it.’’

“True. But consider this: Angel was queen bee of the swinger set when Camilla moved in and started taking over. Camilla was younger and prettier. Plus, she had all those moves she learned with her twin sister. Angel was jealous. She killed Camilla so she could get back her power again.’’

I scanned the oncoming lane. Seeing no traffic, I pulled around a pokey tractor. “Hmmm, that scenario has potential. But Angel seems more like a manipulator than a murderer. If she wanted somebody to disappear, she’d design an elaborate plan or trick someone else into doing the dirty work. She’s smart that way.’’