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

left?’’
    “Uhmm … sorry.’’
    “I’ll forgive you for eating my share of the dessert if you get off your butt and help me clean up.’’ He patted my stomach. “Maybe it’ll burn off some of those extra calories you scarfed down.’’
    I waggled my eyebrows at him. “I know another way to burn calories. And it’s a lot more fun.’’
    I tugged at his belt. He nestled closer and kissed me.
    “Well, I guess cleaning the kitchen can wait,’’ he said, his dark eyes smoldering.
    _____

    Later, Carlos handed me a water glass. I dried it, and put it away in the kitchen cabinet. His glasses were arranged neatly by size, like Little Leaguers in a team picture. The first time I was at his apartment, I was impressed that he had a full set of dinnerware and glasses made of actual glass. The guys I’d been used to dating had nothing in their cabinets but oversized plastic cups from McDonald’s and a motley assortment of foam beer huggies. You don’t show up as a shirtless suspect on Cops without drinking a lot of beer.
    He handed me a clean plate, the last one. The drain in the sink made a sucking sound as the dishwater disappeared. “Want some more coffee?’’
    “Naw, I need to get some sleep. I promised Mama I’d take her to church in the morning, and she gets really upset when I snore in the pew.’’
    “Will you see your sisters afterwards?’’
    Carlos knew they wouldn’t be in church, since Marty was a practicing Buddhist, and Maddie found Mama’s religion a bit too heart-on-your-sleeve-Christian. She preferred the more restrained worship at the Methodist church. Thinking about Maddie made me worry again about what Kenny was up to.
    “Mace?’’
    I realized I was still standing there next to the sink, holding the wet plate. It dripped onto the tail of the white dress shirt Carlos had loaned me to wear to bed. After we made love, we’d showered and changed into nightclothes.
    I swiped the dish towel across the dinner plate, and placed it in the cabinet on the top of a same-sized stack of china.
    “I think I will have a bit more coffee,’’ I said, holding up my thumb and forefinger, an inch or two apart. “ Un poco café , with lots of leche .’’
    Once I had my milky coffee, we sat at the table. The spoon clinked softly as I stirred, staring at a calendar on the refrigerator. It was only six days until Kenny’s party.
    “Is everything okay, niña ? You seem distracted.’’
    Carlos looked across the table, his eyes warm with kindness and concern. I’d seen every kind of emotion in those eyes: dark with anger; burning with desire; narrowed in suspicion. But for some reason, it was the kindness that really did me in. I’m sure Kenny must have looked at Maddie that way a million times. It made me feel like crying.
    Instead, I blew on the café con leche to cool it. “I’ve got some bad news about Maddie’s husband, Kenny.’’
    “Is he sick?’’
    “Yeah, sick of being married. He’s cheating on her.’’
    “No way!’’
    “Yep. She’s asked me to nose around and see what I can find out about who he’s running around with.’’ I sipped at the coffee. “It’s a secret, Carlos. You can’t tell anyone. And for God’s sake, don’t say anything to Mama.’’
    He added another spoonful of sugar to his espresso-sized cup, a cafecito . “I’m a detective. I’m used to keeping secrets.’’
    I smiled at him. “You can say that again!’’
    We drank, sitting comfortably together in the kitchen. The clock ticked on the wall. A drip of water fell from the faucet. I’ve never been one to fill in a silence with chatter. Fortunately, Carlos was the same way. I thought about what he said about keeping secrets.
    “What do you suppose was the murder victim’s secret?’’ I finally asked.
    He shook his head, lips pressed tightly together above the rim of his cup.
    “I mean, a librarian? Dressed up like that? Who’d imagine it?’’
    “Who indeed?’’ He sipped his