DEBORAH SHARP – MAMA DOES TIME
Praise for Mama Does Time
“Who knew that a who-dun-it would not only keep you guessing—but have you laughing! Deborah Sharp is the new Edna Buchanan.”—Hoda Kotb, NBC’s Today Show co-anchor
“With a strong, funny heroine, colorful characters, and a look at a part of Florida the tourists rarely see, Deborah Sharp has an engaging new series. Make sure Mama Does Time does time on your bookshelf.”—Elaine Viets, author of Clubbed to Death: a Dead-End Job Mystery
“Deborah Sharp’s witty way with words makes Mama Does Time as much fun as a down-home visit with your quirky Florida cousins.”—Nancy Martin, author of the Blackbird Sisters Mysteries
“Not since the late Anne George has there been such laugh-out-loud Southern fried fun. Deborah Sharp’s Mama Does Time is a hilarious page turner with crisp and intelligent writing.”—Sue Ann Jaffarian, author of the Odelia Grey Mystery series
“Deborah Sharp is the freshest, funniest voice to come along since, well, since I can’t remember when. She’s wise, she’s wily and, what matters most—she knows the hearts of people. Mama Does Time has it all—murder, mystery and a brand new take on Florida’s particular version of mayhem. Mama, aka Rosalee Deveraux, is an absolute hoot. And Mace Bauer, her middle daughter and the savvy, surefooted heroine of this romp of a book, is a most welcome addition to the ranks of detective fiction.”—Bob Morris, fourth-generation Floridian and
Edgar-nominated author of the Zack Chasteen Mystery series
Mama Does Time: A Mace Bauer Mystery © 2008 by Deborah Sharp
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First e-book edition © 2010
E-book ISBN: 978-07387-2023-4
Book design by Donna Burch
Cover design by Lisa Novak
Cover illustration © 2008 by Mark Gerber
Editing by Connie Hill
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To the original Mama, Marion Sharp,
and to my husband, Kerry Sanders.
I love you both to pieces.
Acknowledgments
The good folks of Okeechobee, Florida, and the state’s cattle belt inspired fictional Himmarshee. You might recognize a few landmarks, but most everything else is made up.
Any mistakes in the book are mine, and not the fault of the experts I consulted. Henry Cabbage, spokesman for the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission, and two of the agency’s biologists, Lindsey Hord and Steve Stiegler, guided me on ’gators. Allen Register, owner of Palmdale’s Gatorama, also helped.
Okeechobee County extension agent Pat Hogue answered my cattle questions, and the Clemons family welcomed me to the Okeechobee Livestock Market, in the same spot since 1937. Jack Knight showed me how a cattle buyer bids at auction.
The staff at the SPCA Wildlife Care Center in Fort Lauderdale allowed me to tag along on the care and feeding of critters.
My mom and real-life sisters encouraged me, and loaned their best traits to Mama, Mace, Maddie, and Marty. My husband gave his gorgeousness to Carlos Martinez. Any negative resemblance to these fictional counterparts is pure coincidence. (Y’all believe me, right?)
A long line of newspaper editors, including USA Today’s, taught me to ask questions, listen carefully, and write tight. (Okay, so maybe this could be tighter, but I can’t leave anyone out!)
Several writers’ groups in Fort Lauderdale assisted my transition from journalism to fiction writing. Thanks to leaders Carol Lytle, Jon Frangipane and Wendell Abern, Shelley Lieber, and, especially, to my friends Joyce Sweeney and the super-talented members of the Thursday Night Group. A special nod to Kingsley Guy for the great title.
Former acquisitions editor Barbara Moore saved me from the slush pile, and the creative folks at Midnight Ink shepherded my book to publication.
Agent Whitney Lee held my hand (electronically, anyway), calmed my insecurities, and combed over my contract.
Thanks to those above, to those I’ve missed, and especially to YOU, for reading Mama Does Time.
Mama just wanted to look pretty for high-stakes bingo night at the Seminole casino.
But her beautician left the peroxide on too long, and she’s been shedding like an Angora sweater ever since. Now, it turns out a patchy dye job is the least of my mother’s worries.
It all started with a phone call. I was just about to plop down with my left-over fried chicken in front of the TV, wanting to see if I could spot any of my ex-boyfriends on Cops, when the damned thing rang.
“Mace, honey, you’ve got to come down here and help me. I’m in a lot of trouble.’’
Mama’s voice was shaking. She sounded scared, like the time the raccoon came crashing from the attic through the bathroom ceiling while my little sister, Marty, was in a bubble bath.