Thanks for the advice. He didnt sound grateful.
No problem. I started back toward the road, and then turned around. Detective?
He looked at me, phone to his ear. I tossed him the bug repellent Id stuck in my pocket. Youll need to use some more of that. Youll sweat out here like an asphalt worker in August, and everything you sprayed on will drip off. Not to mention, itll be dark soon. Thats when these baby bugs out here call in their big brothers.
He caught the toss and rewarded me with an almost-warm smile. Thanks, Mace.
I couldnt ignore the thrill I got when I heard him use my first name. No doubt about it: I had feelings for Detective Carlos Martinez, and that signaled trouble.
Meow. Meowwww.
The cat was doing curlicues around my ankles as I climbed the stairs of Emma Jeans front porch. It slunk behind me; then in front. Go on, kitty. Move. I gently nudged the cats hindquarters with the toe of my boot.
It looked at me over its shoulder as if to say I had my nerve.
I knocked at the door. No response. It was a long shot, but I still hoped to find Emma Jean home, embarrassed at the fuss she created. I pictured her in a bathrobepink, to match the Calamine lotion dotted on the bug bites she got walking out of the swamp. Maybe shed be snuggled in front of the TV, watching an old black-and-white movie about lost love. Thered be a pile of crumpled tissues beside her. I wanted her to be safe.
Martinez may have had a point. I like to save the day. What was the Spanish word he used?
Heroina
. Heroine.
The sun was setting, trailing a few long fingers of pink and yellow across a darkening sky. Enough light remained to see that Emma Jeans place looked just as it had that morning, when Mama and I stopped by. Flowers still drooped; curtains were drawn. And, judging by the cats insistent mewling, it hadnt eaten.
On the porch next to the flower pot sat a set of silver bowls, printed with cat silhouettes. One held water, but the food bowl was empty. I found a green plastic bin against the wall, with assorted cat food inside. I might feel helpless about Emma Jean, but at least I could take care of her cat. I grabbed one of the tins and popped the tab to open the lid.
At the
ssssssssft
sound and the fishy smell, the cat increased its orbits around my ankles. I feared it might launch itself right off the porch. I didnt see a spoon, so I just dumped a bit of dry chow into the bowl, then scooped some wet food on top with my fingers. I wiped the salmon stink from my hand onto the front-door mat. Better there than on my slacks.
Suddenly, I heard a car engine slow on the street out front. Then came squeaks and rattles, as the vehicle jounced over Emma Jeans unpaved drive. I crouched behind the cat food bin for cover, watching between the slats of the porch railing. Headlights moved up and down, coming closer.
Shhh, I whispered to the cat, which was ignoring me now that food filled its bowl. None of that Siamese screeching, yhear? As quiet as a mouse.
As the car drew near, I could see the outline of lights on the top. Then, the familiar blue-and-white markings of the Himmarshee Police Department. My breath whooshed out in relief. The cat lifted its head at me, then went right back to eating. Kind of like me, when I sit down to dinner.
The car rolled to a stop. The drivers door opened. In the glow of the dome light, I thought I recognized a military-style haircut and pumped upper body. I was just about to stand up and call out, but I hesitated. I cant really say why, except the events of the last few days had made me suspicious of everyone. I stayed put and kept watching from my little hiding spot.
Switching on his flashlight, the uniformed officer started for the backyard. I was glad Id pulled the VW off to the side, behind the toolshed. I hadnt wanted to advertise that I was snooping around, indulging my fantasy of rescuing Emma Jean.
I crept off the porch and past the rose bushes, where Mama had pinched off dead blooms. Night was coming fast. But I still could see the old pickup as I rounded the corner of the house. The flashlight beam traveled over the truck: Across the front seat, into the space of the extended cab, then out the rear window. Like an oversized firefly, it flitted from rear to front and down to the ground. It lit on the right front tire, staying for a good while.
As I got closer, I could see him reflected in the beam. His head was bent to the tire. He ran a hand over the tread.
Hey, Donnie. I spoke quietly, from about twenty feet away.
He jumped like the tire gave him a shock. His hand flew up, hovering just above the gun at his right hip.
I quickly called out, Its just me, Mace Bauer. No weapon.
He dropped his hand to his side and rocked forward onto his knees. You should know better than to sneak up on somebody whos armed, Mace. Mistakes can happen.
I wasnt sneaking. I came here to see if I could find Emma Jean. Then I saw you down on the ground out here. I got curious about what you were up to.
Its been all over the police radio about Emma Jeans abandoned car.
So the Toyota is hers? Im the one who found it, out near my house.
Its hers, all right. Im on overnight at the jail tonight. I thought Id swing by here on my way in and see if anything looked unusual.
I thought I saw the slightest shift in his eyes. But I could have been mistaken. There wasnt much light.
It seems like youd go first to Emma Jeans door. Knock and see if she answers.
I was gonna do that next, Donnie said. I came around back first to see if there were any other vehicles parked out here. The more you know about who might be inside a dark house, the safer youll be if you need to go in.
That made sense. But still. You seem awful interested in that old pickup, Donnie.
We both looked at the truck. With a hand to the fender, Donnie boosted himself up.
Truth be told, Ive been staring extra hard at every truck I see since I got the accident investigators report about the night you landed in the canal. I feel bad I didnt believe you. I thought maybe I could make it up by finding the truck that ran you off the road.
I wanted to rescue Emma Jean and find out who killed Jim Albert. Donnie wanted to hunt down the nutcase who forced me into the water.
Heroina
and hero.
Do you think this truck is related? I asked.
I dont know. But its worth checking out.
Are you going inside the house?
Donnie brushed off grass, just as Id done to my own knees that morning. Im gonna have a look around. He shifted his heavy belt. Not you, though, Mace. Its police business.
Those words had a familiar ring.
Well, Ill wait then. I want to know what you find.
I followed Donnie to the back door. He looked into the window, then pounded on the wood frame with his heavy flashlight. Emma Jean? No answer. Himmarshee Police. Anybody in there?
The silence was broken only by the crickets, tuning up for their evening serenade.
He tried the door. Locked. There used to be a time when doors were left open. But those days are mostly over, even in a small town like Himmarshee.
Donnie bent and lifted the mat. No key. He ran a hand on the jamb over the door. Nothing but dirt. He picked up a concrete cat statue from the grass. Success.
His flashlight beam led the way inside. I stayed put, like he told me to. But I could still watch through the kitchen window. He turned on the light switch at the wall.
Everything looks just the same as it did this morning, when Mama and I stopped by, I yelled into the house. We were worried about Emma Jean. Those are the same dishes we saw in the sink. Thats the same newspaper on the counter.
Stay outside, Donnie yelled back. Dont even think of coming in.
More light spilled from the windows as Donnie moved through the little house, turning on lamps. I could hear him knocking, and opening and closing doors. I didnt have long to wait. The whole search only took about five minutes. He retraced his steps, shut off the lights, and rejoined me on the back door stoop.
No sign of a struggle, he said.
He locked the door and slid the key back under the kitty. The real cat caught up with us at the birdbath, which had a concrete fairy dipping a wand into the waterless bowl.
I guess I better call county Animal Control about Emma Jeans cat. Donnie reached out to steady me as the cat twined around my ankles.
Leave it be. The words out of my mouth surprised me. Ill take care of the cat, Donnie.
He stopped and stared. Id have pegged you as a dog person, Mace. You dont seem like the kitty-cat type.
I bent to stroke the cats head. It rose on its hind legs to meet my hand. This ones kind of growing on me. Id always heard Siamese were unfriendly. But this ones more like a dog than a cat. Maybe there was a Labrador retriever somewhere in its gene pool.
The cat had eaten. I decided to leave it, in case Emma Jean came back. If she still hadnt shown by tomorrow, Id return to collect it with one of the animal carriers I use for possums.
Im going to hit the road, Donnie. Im beat. Weve had way too much excitement in our little town in these last few days.
You said it. What do you think happened to Emma Jean?
As we walked to my car, I filled him in on her tire iron and threats of violence.
Thats what seems weird, I said. If anyone was to go missing or get hurt, Id have bet on Emma Jean as the culprit, not the victim.
Donnies brow was furrowed.
What is it? I asked.
It seems strange Emma Jean was in a rage about being cheated on.
Yeah, I know. But Mama told me that relationship with Jim Albert was a real whirlwind. How well can you really know anyone after just a few months?
Donnie shone the light around the empty yard. Thats not what I mean, Mace. Word is Emma Jean herself was running around. She was cheating on Jim Albert.
My mouth dropped open. I finally shut it, afraid Id catch a bug drawn by the flashlight.
You know how my mom moved to the south side of the lake? She works at that fish camp restaurant in Hendry County.
The Gigged Frog?
Affirmative, Donnie answered, with a nod right out of
Cops
. Mom says shes seen Emma Jean in there. She takes a booth in the bar, way in the back. Then a dark-haired, younger guy comes in to join her. Hes not just a friend, either. The two of them end up making out like high-school kids.
Your mom doesnt know him?
Donnie shook his head.
Maybe its an old boyfriend. And they quit going out once she got engaged.
Mom says no. After Emma Jean was flashing her diamond ring last week at work, I mentioned her engagement. You know what my mom said?
I shook my head.
Not two nights earlier, shed been into the Frog, cuddling up with her lover boy. Mom said she pitied the poor sap who had agreed to marry Emma Jean Valentine.
Detective Martinez.
His telephone bark was more warning than greeting. I had a fleeting urge to hang up my cell without speaking. Then I remembered: Im not in junior high.
Its Mace Bauer.
Again?
My resolve to be nice wavered. You seem busy, Detective. Im sorry to bother you.
I didnt mean that the way it sounded. He backed down a little, allowing a flicker of warmth into his voice. Im just about done out here. So, I do have a few minutes to talk. By the way, you left so fast I never had the chance to thank you for calling about Emma Jeans car.
Youre welcome. We were setting new personal records for polite discourse.