Do Unto Others

The good reverend and Matt ignored me. By the time I was out of the car, Matt’s exhaust churned in the air and he tore out of the parking lot. I blinked at Reverend Adam Hufnagel. He smiled thinly at me. I don’t think he was pleased to see me. Adam Hufnagel was a tall, rangy man, thinner from his bout with cancer last year. He was a tough old bird and he’d beaten the disease. His hair was iron gray, the color that gives a man the look of resolve. Strong-featured, he looked more distinguished than handsome, the ideal father figure. I wondered if his wife Tamma thought of him that way. Brother Adam slipped on his smiling parson’s face for me. “Jordan!” He came forward, shaking my hand in the warm, intimate way that all clergy use. “Good to see you, son. How are you doing?” His voice, a rich-timbred instrument, oozed just the amount of concern a Southern gentleman would permit himself.

“Fine, Reverend, considering what all’s happened in the past couple of days. Do you have a minute to talk?” He inspected his watch. “Just for a few minutes. I have to meet with the ladies who are planning Vacation Bible School.” Ah. “Weren’t your wife, my cousin Janice, and Beta doing that?” He steered me toward a church side door. “Why, yes, they were. Horrible about Beta’s murder. Horrible.” “No one should die that way,” I agreed. “That’s why I’m trying to find out who killed her.” I felt his fingers on my arm stiffen for a moment, then relax.

We went down a short, tiled hallway, the walls covered with a rainbow of felt cutouts done by the Sunday school children. Crosses, trees of life, doves, hands grasping. The nursery school interpretation of religion. It seemed better than Beta’s version. Adam Hufnagel’s office was immaculate. Files were stacked neatly on his desk. Pencils and pens stood in holders, with not a single stray on the desk. An assortment of silver-framed photos ranged the credenza behind his comfortable leather chair. So much for vows of poverty. The pictures were nearly always of Hufnagels: Adam and Tamma vacationing in a sunny place, Adam and Tamma wearing T-shirts of the church’s soccer team, Adam and Tamma getting married, he looking more like her father than her husband. Adam gestured toward a seat. “When will the library reopen?” “Hopefully soon. Junebug makes that decision.” I paused. Adam Hufnagel was a little intimidating, but I hadn’t backed down over the book banning and I wasn’t about to back down now. I swallowed and said, “Is that what Matt was here to see you about? The library?”

“Sort of.” Adam smiled at me like he might at a child who’d asked if God really existed. “He wanted to know if he could use the church hall for his veterans’ meeting, since the library is temporarily closed. Of course I gave him permission, and he was very happy.” “Oh.” If I hadn’t kept eye contact with the good Reverend I might have believed it. Eyes betray us. Adam Hufnagel’s eyes darted down to my lap and back again as he spoke. He didn’t want to look at me. And when I thought of Matt Blalock and Adam Hufnagel, who’d been on opposite sides of the censorship battle, I couldn’t see Matt asking Adam for help. “Matt can be difficult, but these are veterans.” Adam shrugged, keeping his eyes steadily on me. “I thought perhaps letting Matt use the church would mend fences broken during our recent”-he fumbled for a word-“disagreements.” “Matt doesn’t strike me as a fence mender. He wasn’t exactly broken up over Beta Harcher’s death.” Adam raised palms in supplication, and it was a distinctly annoying gesture. It said: don’t ask me-I just work here. “Matt has many burdens to carry, Jordan. I hope I can minister to his needs. Now what did you want to see me about? Surely not to ask questions about Matt Blalock?” I licked my lips. I felt as nervous as the proverbial whore in church.

Grilling regular folks was one thing, but trying to worm information out of a man who was supposed to be above reproach made me uneasy. I swallowed down my unease and forged ahead. “I understand that Beta took your key to the library to get in.” “Apparently so.” Adam nodded.

“Tamma noticed it missing when the police called. Beta was here the afternoon before she died for a brief time. I don’t keep the office locked during church hours. It would have been easy for her to take.”

“Thou shalt not steal,” I intoned. “Seems she only observed commandments that were convenient to her.” “Jordan, let me be frank.”

He leaned forward over his spotless desk. “Beta Harcher was a committed member of this congregation.” Should’ve been committed, I thought, but held my tongue. “She didn’t have much of a life outside of church. Old maid, with no family left here in town. She practically ran this church for me.” He smiled but there was no feeling behind it.