Do Unto Others

“What?” “Oh, God. Unless the killer planted it there, already wiped clean of prints, and waited for you to pick it up.” “That’s crazy, Candace,” I coughed. “Doesn’t that seem like putting a lot up to chance? That I’m the first person to walk by the bat, that I notice it, that I pick it up, that I even take that path at any given time of the day?” “Jordy,” Candace’s tone was flat. “You’re far more a creature of habit than you realize. You always cut through the field on your way to the pharmacy.” “Yeah, but I don’t go to the pharmacy on a regular basis. Whenever Mama needs her medicine.” “Maybe the killer knew when that would be. When you’d be going next.” “My God!” I exclaimed. Pictures unraveled in my mind, like a grainy, old-time newsreel. “You’re onto something, Candace. Imagine you’re the killer.

You want to frame me for this murder. You want to get my prints on the murder weapon. You want to put me at the scene of the crime near the time of the murder, or you want to kill Beta Harcher at a place where only I-and possibly a few others, including you-have access. You can’t use a conventional weapon like a gun or a knife, because how could you explain getting me to touch it? ‘Please leave your prints on that registered weapon, Jordy, and I’ll be on my way.’ So you decide to use as your weapon something I might handle. But there’s nothing in the library that’s lethal enough. I don’t have a heavy paperweight on my desk. I don’t have an antique sword hanging over the card catalog. But there is a softball field right by the library. So you decide to use a baseball bat. You know-or learn-that I cut through the softball field when I head toward the pharmacy or downtown in general. So you find out when I’m planning on going to the pharmacy, watch me leave, then leave the bat there on the path for me to find when I return. If I pick it up, you’re set. If I don’t, maybe you have an alternate plan.”

Candace sighed on the other end of the line. “A lot of ifs there.” I clutched the phone in excitement. “But say it’s true. That could narrow the field down even further. Who would know that Mama needed her prescription refilled and that I would go down the path that day?”

“Maybe that’s not the key,” Candace suggested. “Maybe they just were in the library when you left to go to the pharmacy and then put the bat out for you to find when you got back. Maybe your mother’s medicine had nothing to do with it.” Leave it to Candace to make simplifying conclusions. Simple seemed better. “Okay, let’s take that tack. So who was around that morning?” Candace hummed slightly on the other line. “Let’s see. You. Me. Old Man Renfro, of course-he’s always there. Eula Mae and her lot were just starting to arrive when you left.” She harrumphed. “Ruth Wills was there, looking up something.

Probably home cures for venereal disease.” She paused. “Tamma Hufnagel-no, she came in after you got back, right when the fight started with you and Beta.” “Maybe she was outside the library and saw me go.” “Maybe so. And maybe anyone else could’ve been too,” Candace agreed. “Bob Don came in to return a book that his wife’d checked out.

There was a whiskey spill on one page and he offered to buy the book.

That was about ten minutes before you left. I took care of it.” “Bob Don again,” I said. “His name pops up more than a jack-in-the-box.”

“There were a few others at the library. Older folks. That nerdy Gaston Leach. I can’t imagine any of them as Beta’s killer.” I rubbed my eyes. “I’ve got to go, Candace. I’ve got some folks to see. I’m afraid that Junebug knows that we know about Beta’s deposit. It kind of slipped out this morning.” She sighed, disappointed in me. “Oh, well. Mother will just have to forgive me. After all, it’s for a worthy cause. Saving your butt.” As soon as Sister was awake, I told her about Junebug’s visit, Uncle Bid’s offer, and my theory about the murder weapon. “Uncle Bid? Being nice?” She wiped sleep from her eyes as I sat on the corner of her bed. “I’m fast asleep, right?” “Nope.

And I’m not working today. The library’s still closed.” She blinked green eyes at me, rimmed with dark. Those eyes said she’d been working too much. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re not going to volunteer to stay home with Mama?” “There’s some people I’ve got to see.” “Look, Jordy. You’re trying to clear yourself before they’ve even arrested you-” “How would I clear my name from a jail cell? I wouldn’t count on Uncle Bid to hire a decent private investigator. I’ve got to do this now, prove I’m innocent.” I leaned back on the bed. “I called Dorcas Witherspoon. She said she’d stay with Mama if you needed to run errands.” “Okay.” Sister knotted the sheets around her. She was wearing an oversized T-shirt that said RICE UNIVERSITY. God, I’d given that to her my senior year in college and she still slept in it.