Do Unto Others

“Religious people don’t break the law.” “She was in a library after hours, ready to torch it,” I retorted. “I bet you if we look in the Texas Penal Code we’ll find arson mentioned.” “So what do you want from me?” Shannon demanded. Her eyes flashed, and I guess the thought of losing that money was the spark. “I want you to save yourself a lot of grief later on,” I answered. “If the money is genuinely your aunt’s, then it’s yours and the matter’s settled. But if she got it through blackmail, we need to know now. That way you won’t have to worry about the police coming and asking you for it down the line.”

Shannon weighed her choices. The lovely skin tightened across her high cheekbones as she thought. She was a smart woman. “Fine,” she finally said. “I’ll cooperate. What do you want?” “I want us-meaning you, me, and Chief Moncrief-to search your aunt’s house for any evidence that she was blackmailing someone.” She shook her head, but not in disagreement. “The police already went through the house when she was killed. They didn’t find anything.” “Then we go through it again.

Junebug’s fellas probably wait for something to announce itself before they notice it. If we don’t find anything there, your aunt is probably innocent of extortion and I’ll apologize to her at her grave. But if she was, we might find who killed her.” “I want that,” Shannon said bluntly. “I want to know who killed her and I want them to pay for it.

I won’t pretend that she was my favorite person in the world, but she helped me when I needed it. It’s not right that she died that way.” “I want that, too,” I said, but for an entirely different reason. It wasn’t right that Beta was murdered, but in my humble opinion it was less right that I be arrested for it. She glanced at her watch. “I have an appointment with Reverend Hufnagel. He’s conducting the funeral service. How about around three this afternoon?” “I’ll call the chief,” I said, sure that he would not be pleased about me inviting myself along for the ride. She stood, eager to be gone. She said her goodbyes again to Mark and Sister. I walked Shannon to her car, noticing that two doors down Janice Schneider was pulling into her driveway. Time to pay my kinfolk a visit. I went back into the house. Mark was still moon-eyed over our visitor, but that wasn’t keeping him from toying around with expensive hardware. He pulled wires and cords from the TV and the VCR. “Wow, she’s real pretty, huh, Uncle Jordy?” he said, yanking on a cord that looked costly to replace. “Yes, she’s very attractive. And too old for you and too young for me.” I watched as he broke the bonds that hooked together TV and recorder. “What exactly are you doing, Mark?” He began lugging the VCR up the stairs. “You said we all had to make our adjustments with Mamaw’s illness. Well, my adjustment for today is watching a Schwarzenegger tape on the TV in your room, so I can blare the volume and not freak out Mamaw.” He vanished up the stairs and into my private sanctuary. Great, I thought. That room always had been a magnet for teenage male mischief. Ever go into someone’s house and feel more like you’ve stepped into a catalog than a place where people actually live? I felt that way everytime I went into Janice Schneider’s house. Note that I said house, not home. I swear to God there was no way this woman had three males actually living in this house. It was as pristine as new crystal and as tasteful as money could make it. There had been enough money, all right. Janice’s living room wasn’t much bigger than ours, but it was as white as a snowy field. The carpet, the upholstery, the throw pillows were all various shades of ivory. The furniture that wasn’t white seemed to be all glass and chrome, so you could see through it to the white or have the white reflected back at you. I thought the TV might only pick up static, just to fit in. If I’d been a speck of dirt in that room, I would have died of loneliness. Janice bravely served me coffee in that expanse of snowy home furnishings. I say bravely because if I were her, I wouldn’t allow anything that could make a stain in that room.

Janice seemed to have total confidence in my ability to not spill, however. She was still as pretty as she’d been in school, with brown hair and pert features. She looked strained, though, around her eyes and mouth. I think it was all that perkiness. She was always the happiest, smilingest person you ever saw. God, she was annoying.