in his jaw and cold anger.
You better watch yourself. His voice was a growl. You could get into a lot of trouble making accusations you dont have fact one to support. Mace, tell her shes out of line, wouldya?
Shell do no such thing, Maddie jumped in. Mace and Marty both agree with me. And so does our mother, for that matter.
When Sal looked at me, I saw hurt, not anger in his eyes. Is that true, Mace? Does Rosalee think Im a murderer? Do you?
I paused, considering what to say. The truth was I didnt know what to think.
It seems suspicious, Sal. We find out you have ties to Jim Albert, ties of the criminal kind. Youre dating my mother, who just happens to have a spacious trunk in the back of her old Bonne-ville. Shes playing bingo at the Seminole reservation. The car is parked way out in the hinterlands.
He ran a finger around his collar, sweating in the full sun on Maddies driveway. Anyone could have had access to that car, Mace.
He addressed the car, but avoided the topic of his ties to the murder victim.
Everyone in town knows your mother and her turquoise convertible, he continued.
Yeah, but how many other people have an extra set of keys to the car?
From the flush on Sals face, I could see my comment hit home.
She gave you a set, didnt she? I asked.
You know she did. Rosalees always losing her keys. I have a set for safekeeping.
Humph! said Maddie.
You both know Im not the only one. A few extra sets are floating around town.
True, I conceded. But how many of those other folks with Mamas keys have also drawn the suspicions of the detective investigating Jim Alberts murder? Just you.
Oddly, Sal smiled. I wouldnt be so sure you know everything Detective Martinez has up his sleeve, he said. Policemen play things close to the vest. They dont share everything they know, especially not with civilians.
Thats neither here nor there, Mr. Provenza. Maddie put her hands on her hips. On top of everything Mace just said, you also seem to be the most likely suspect in her near-fatal crash last night.
Now, thats where youre a hundred percent wrong, Maddie. Looping his thumbs into his waistband, Sal leaned against his Cadillac, the picture of confidence. Why havent I heard you making accusations about the person who called me to say your poor mother was at deaths door, that shed collapsed at the Himmarshee Jail?
My sister and I looked at each other. It was a good question.
We would have gotten the answer, too, if Marty hadnt chosen exactly that moment to pull up in front of Maddies house. She was beeping her horn like Himmarshee High had just won the homecoming game. And there was Mama, grinning and waving from Martys front seat.
Its kind of hard to pretend you dont see Big Sal Provenza. But Mama was doing her best.
Rosalee, I just want to talk to you, Sal begged, placing his palms on the rolled up window on the passenger side of Martys car.
Mama climbed out of her seat, pushed around Sal with a withering glance, and then immediately turned a big smile on Maddie and me. Girls, Im so happy to see yall. I thought Id never get out of that place. Oh, my Lord, the food. And then a visit from that talky Pastor Bob Dixon. And those horrible cots. Mace, you saw those inmate smocks. Remind me never to wear orange again.
Please, Rosalee. Sal ran his hands through his hair, messing up his careful styling. I can explain everything. I just cant do it right now.
She didnt say a word to Sal. The look she gave him said enough. Then she turned to us again, grinning as she squinted in the sun. She was like a swivel-headed doll with two expressions: ecstatic for us; furious for Sal.
I cant wait to have some real food, girls. Maddie, I hope you have something good in your fridge. You and Kenny arent still on that low-cholesterol kick, are you?
Sal tried again. Rosie, honey
Enough! Mama cut him off. Then she glared at him for
You better watch yourself. His voice was a growl. You could get into a lot of trouble making accusations you dont have fact one to support. Mace, tell her shes out of line, wouldya?
Shell do no such thing, Maddie jumped in. Mace and Marty both agree with me. And so does our mother, for that matter.
When Sal looked at me, I saw hurt, not anger in his eyes. Is that true, Mace? Does Rosalee think Im a murderer? Do you?
I paused, considering what to say. The truth was I didnt know what to think.
It seems suspicious, Sal. We find out you have ties to Jim Albert, ties of the criminal kind. Youre dating my mother, who just happens to have a spacious trunk in the back of her old Bonne-ville. Shes playing bingo at the Seminole reservation. The car is parked way out in the hinterlands.
He ran a finger around his collar, sweating in the full sun on Maddies driveway. Anyone could have had access to that car, Mace.
He addressed the car, but avoided the topic of his ties to the murder victim.
Everyone in town knows your mother and her turquoise convertible, he continued.
Yeah, but how many other people have an extra set of keys to the car?
From the flush on Sals face, I could see my comment hit home.
She gave you a set, didnt she? I asked.
You know she did. Rosalees always losing her keys. I have a set for safekeeping.
Humph! said Maddie.
You both know Im not the only one. A few extra sets are floating around town.
True, I conceded. But how many of those other folks with Mamas keys have also drawn the suspicions of the detective investigating Jim Alberts murder? Just you.
Oddly, Sal smiled. I wouldnt be so sure you know everything Detective Martinez has up his sleeve, he said. Policemen play things close to the vest. They dont share everything they know, especially not with civilians.
Thats neither here nor there, Mr. Provenza. Maddie put her hands on her hips. On top of everything Mace just said, you also seem to be the most likely suspect in her near-fatal crash last night.
Now, thats where youre a hundred percent wrong, Maddie. Looping his thumbs into his waistband, Sal leaned against his Cadillac, the picture of confidence. Why havent I heard you making accusations about the person who called me to say your poor mother was at deaths door, that shed collapsed at the Himmarshee Jail?
My sister and I looked at each other. It was a good question.
We would have gotten the answer, too, if Marty hadnt chosen exactly that moment to pull up in front of Maddies house. She was beeping her horn like Himmarshee High had just won the homecoming game. And there was Mama, grinning and waving from Martys front seat.
Its kind of hard to pretend you dont see Big Sal Provenza. But Mama was doing her best.
Rosalee, I just want to talk to you, Sal begged, placing his palms on the rolled up window on the passenger side of Martys car.
Mama climbed out of her seat, pushed around Sal with a withering glance, and then immediately turned a big smile on Maddie and me. Girls, Im so happy to see yall. I thought Id never get out of that place. Oh, my Lord, the food. And then a visit from that talky Pastor Bob Dixon. And those horrible cots. Mace, you saw those inmate smocks. Remind me never to wear orange again.
Please, Rosalee. Sal ran his hands through his hair, messing up his careful styling. I can explain everything. I just cant do it right now.
She didnt say a word to Sal. The look she gave him said enough. Then she turned to us again, grinning as she squinted in the sun. She was like a swivel-headed doll with two expressions: ecstatic for us; furious for Sal.
I cant wait to have some real food, girls. Maddie, I hope you have something good in your fridge. You and Kenny arent still on that low-cholesterol kick, are you?
Sal tried again. Rosie, honey
Enough! Mama cut him off. Then she glared at him for
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