Mama Gets Trashed (A Mace Bauer Mystery) Read Free Page B

your cousin, honey. You’re still a growing boy.’’ She went back to typing.
    “Growing and growing,’’ Maddie mumbled under her breath.
    “Sticks and stones, Maddie.’’ Henry slathered butter and honey on the biscuit, polishing off the first half in one bite. “That’s good enough to make your tongue slap your eyeballs.’’
    “Want me to call Charlene over to take your order?’’ I asked.
    “Nah. I’ve already eaten. I just like to tick Maddie off.’’ Henry popped the second half in his mouth, chewed, and then opened up to reveal to Maddie the gloppy mess inside.
    She leaned over to punch him in the shoulder; he balled up a napkin and tossed it at her.
    “Very mature, you two!’’ Marty said. “Henry, is that the way you conduct yourself in the courtroom?’’
    “I would if I ever got a judge like Maddie.”
    Henry was actually a successful attorney, the best in Himmar shee. Of course, there were only four lawyers in town, and one of them was in his mid-nineties and lived at the adult-care facility, so our cousin didn’t have a lot of competition.
    I heard the whoosh of Mama’s phone sending her message, probably an inspirational story she was forwarding to unsuspecting recipients in cyberspace. She left her virtual world to rejoin real life. “Be nice, sweetheart.’’ She patted Henry’s hand. “Maddie’s not feeling well this morning.’’
    He cocked his head, eyes showing authentic concern. Maddie, with a stomach like a steel-hulled freighter, was hardly ever sick. “Everything okay, cousin?’’
    She waved away his worry. “It’s that blasted forty-fifth birthday party for Kenny. He’s getting on my last nerve, y’all. I’m going to a lot of trouble, and he’s fighting me every step of the way. He acts like he doesn’t even want a party.’’
    “Forty-five?’’ Henry said. “That explains it. I know y’all won’t believe me, but women aren’t the only ones who get sensitive about their age. Maybe Kenny doesn’t want to be reminded he’s getting older.’’
    “That’s just plain stupid.’’ Maddie made an X in a spot of water left by her glass. “Getting older is a fact of life. It happens to everybody.’’
    Marty’s hand shook a bit as she put down her coffee cup. In a quiet voice, she said, “It won’t happen for Camilla. She was murdered, and dumped like yesterday’s trash. She was only twenty-nine.’’
    The table went quiet: no chewing, even. Petty bickering and Kenny’s party seemed too silly as subjects when a young woman had lost her life. Mama turned off her phone, sliding it off the table and into her purse.
    “What’s the courthouse crowd saying, Henry?’’ My question broke the silence.
    “Nobody knows much yet. She’d been strangled. The dump likely wasn’t the murder scene. She was dropped there.’’
    Mama tsk-tsked. “What’s happening to little Himmarshee?’’
    “We’re all going to have to move to escape our spiraling crime rate. Maybe we should relocate to Miamuh.’’ Henry used the “Old Florida’’ pronunciation for the wicked city four hours south.
    Marty traced the picture of Camilla in the newspaper on the table. “I wonder if she knew her killer?’’
    “Well, she was all dolled up for something,’’ Henry said.
    “Maybe the killer dressed her that way,’’ Maddie said.
    “It’d be a challenge to dress someone else in an outfit that tight. I think she dressed herself, like for a special date,’’ Mama said.
    We all stared at her. “What kind of dates have you been on?’’ I asked.
    A blush reached clear to the dyed roots of her platinum hair. “Oh, not me, y’all! I don’t have any personal knowledge. I do watch TV, though.’’
    I leaned in close and lowered my voice to a whisper. “Mama did seem to know a lot about the details of that leather top Camilla was wearing.’’
    “It’s called a bustier. Everybody knows that, Mace.’’
    Before we could correct her on that assumption, Mama