Free Mama Gets Trashed (A Mace Bauer Mystery) by Deborah Sharp Page B

about Kenny; about their twenty-plus years of marriage, now endangered. Carlos and I weren’t even married yet. Things could go bad. Maybe I did need a backup plan.
    For some reason, an image of the gorgeous golf pro flitted behind my eyes. That was immediately followed by a rush of guilt. I don’t know why. It wasn’t like I planned to do anything with the guy. I was just thinking. Harmless daydreaming. It wasn’t like I was considering making Jason—or was it Josh?—my Plan B Man.
    Was I?
    thirteen

    My mouth watered. The aroma of meat on the grill drifted through the dining room at the golf course. They don’t call Himmarshee County the buckle in Florida’s beef belt for nothing. Speaking of which, my own belt might need a new hole if I managed to finish the still-sizzling slab of steak in front of me.
    “Hand me that steak sauce, would you Mace?’’ Sal pointed his fork at the house brand bottle on the table.
    “Try it before you douse it. You can’t beat the taste of a fine cut of meat, simply prepared.’’ Sawing off a hunk from my own Porterhouse, I held it up for Sal’s inspection. “Nothing but meat, a nice marbling of fat, and some salt and pepper.’’
    He plucked it off my steak knife and popped it into his mouth. “Mmm-hmm,’’ he said, chewing.
    “What’d I tell you?’’ I grinned. “Carnivore nirvana-vor!’’
    My sister Marty, likely the only vegetarian in a twenty-five-mile radius, speared a cucumber from her salad. She chomped on the celery stalk garnishing her virgin Bloody Mary. “You’d both be a lot healthier if you’d cut back on the meat, and bulk up on your greens.’’
    Catching the waiter’s eye, Sal tapped the rim of his empty glass to signal he wanted a second martini. “Do olives count as greens, Marty?’’
    She shook a finger at him. “Not when they’re soaked in gin.’’
    Mama looked at her watch and frowned. “It’s one o’clock. I thought Maddie would be here by now.’’
    I’d been so distracted—studying the menu, selecting my steak, lecturing Sal on the virtues of un-sauced meat—I’d forgotten to mention my big sister wouldn’t be joining us.
    “I talked to Maddie on my cell on the way here, Mama. She can’t make it.”
    “Why not?’’ she asked.
    The truth was Maddie was too upset over this mess with Kenny to enjoy the family’s company, not even with the added bonus of dessert. But I wasn’t about to reveal that.
    “She’s not feeling well,’’ I said.
    “What’s wrong with her?’’ Marty asked.
    Mama snatched a French fry from my plate, leaving her own healthy serving of rice untouched. I thrust my steak knife at her in warning.
    “She’s just a little under the weather,’’ I answered Marty.
    “How so?’’ Mama asked.
    Now, even Sal had put down his fork and was awaiting my update. Nothing gets my family interested like evasiveness. I glanced around at the nearby tables and lowered my voice to a whisper.
    “She has her period, okay?’’
    Reddening, Sal changed the subject. “Hey, I think I see the mayor and his wife coming in. You know them, don’t you Mace?’’
    Mama interrupted before I could answer him. “I gave Maddie some special raspberry and chamomile to make Time of the Month tea. That should help her cramps. Isn’t she using it, Mace?’’
    “I’m not sure, Mama. I’m not in charge of monitoring Maddie’s herbal tea intake.’’
    Mama slipped her cell phone from her purse. “I’m going to call her right now. I have to make sure she remembers to drink that tea.’’
    “No, don’t!’’ I said, more sharply than I intended.
    All three of them stared at me. “I just meant don’t bother her. She said on the phone she was going to fill a hot water bottle and take a nap. She’s probably asleep right now.’’
    “I remember my own periods.’’ Mama happily shifted the focus to herself.
    Sal tugged uncomfortably at his collar. She continued.
    “Cramps so bad it felt like somebody crushed