Mama Stalks the Past by Nora Deloach Page A

and smiled, I knew why my heart ached to be alone with him.
    “Tell me again,” he asked, “why does Miss Candi insist that you come back to Otis today?”
    “Remember I told you that Miss Hannah Mixon, our next-door neighbor’s mother, died two weeks ago? Well, she was poisoned. Now her son Nat has been poisoned, too. Mama wants to go to the Melody Bar to talk to some of the people who were there when it happened.”
    Cliff adjusted the rearview mirror, then pulled smoothly into the inside lane. His speed picked up as we swiftly passed several cars on the right.
    “The Melody Bar is a juke joint where Nat and his buddies hang out,” I explained.
    A car cut sharply in front of us. Cliff braked and swore under his breath. After the traffic hadeased a little, he asked, “Why does your mother want to go to the bar today?”
    “She thinks she might learn something.”
    “I know Miss Candi likes solving murders, but …” He shook his head.
    “It’s more to it than her solving the murders,” I said.
    Cliff’s eyebrow rose.
    “Miss Hannah willed land to Mama. And Mama thinks the land has something to do with the whole mess.”

    Mama was in the foyer waiting for us. “I hated to call you back,” she said, after hugging me and greeting Cliff warmly.
    “Forget it,” I said. After all, if finding out what might have happened to Nat was important to Mama, I guess it was important to me, too. “Did you find out anything more?”
    “There’s a lot of conflicting stories. But what I gathered so far is that the bar was very crowded last night and Nat was doing his usual drinking. Abe told me that the report is that Nat suddenly grabbed his throat, then fell to the floor. They got him to the hospital but he’s hanging on by a thread!”
    “What kind of poison was it?” I asked.
    “The doctor isn’t sure yet,” Mama replied.
    “Do you think the poisoner was somebody at the bar? One of Nat’s friends?” I asked.
    “Abe got a list of everybody who was there, and he’s going to question each and every one.” She reached for her jacket. “Right now, I want to go to the Melody Bar.”
    “Let’s get this show on the road,” Cliff said cheerfully. He grinned at me.
    “Yeah,” Mama said. “The sooner we get this over, the quicker you two can get back to Atlanta!”

    The Melody Bar is open seven nights a week. It’s just as busy on Sunday night as any one of the others. The one big room was very dark, the smell of cigarette smoke mingled pungently with beer and Johnnie Red. Bursts of laughter punctuated the loud chatter; the jukebox pounded one continuous rap beat.
    Cliff and I followed Mama through the smoky darkness toward a middle-aged man whose potbellied stomach hung over his old jeans. He wore a T-shirt that had once been white, and a pair of dirty running shoes. He was slouching in his chair, an empty beer glass and a full beer pitcher on the table. When he saw Mama, he bolted upright.“Miss Candi!” he exclaimed. “What you doing here?”
    Mama motioned to him. “Relax, Buford,” she said.
    The man Mama had called Buford slouched down in his chair again. “I’m just having a little drink,” he muttered as he poured beer from the pitcher.
    Mama shook her head sadly as Cliff pulled a chair out for her. Buford tipped his glass and let the beer slide down his throat before speaking again. “This ain’t no place for you, Miss Candi,” he said.
    “I agree that this isn’t my usual hangout,” Mama said pleasantly, “but I’m here trying to find out what happened to Nat Mixon.”
    Buford took a gulp of beer. “Nat got real sick last night. They took him to the hospital.”
    “Nat’s maybe dying,” I said.
    Buford put his glass on the table. He squinted at me. “Something he ate?”
    “The doctor says it’s something he
drank
,” Mama said.
    Buford’s eyes refused to meet Mama’s. “We’ve all got to go sometime,” he said.
    “Somebody put something in Nat’s drink last