Do Unto Others

What proof do they have?” I chewed. I’d come straight home to find Mark watching gory films in my room while Mama napped and Sister ran midafternoon errands. I’d called a respectable-sounding lawyer in the Bavary yellow pages-having the biggest ad does make a difference in dire straits-and hired him for Eula Mae. I’d made some food I didn’t have an appetite for and tried to eat. Sister’s demands for information kept my mouth busy. “It’s a case of sorts. Eula Mae doesn’t have any alibis, she’s got a key to the library, and she sure as hell had a motive.” Sister pressed me for what motive in particular, but I’d decided to keep Eula Mae’s reasons to myself. I wasn’t going to be the one to wreck her career. Hell, maybe this wouldn’t wreck it. But obviously Eula Mae thought her literary reputation was worth at least $10,000. The phone jangled. Sister scooped it up with a quick hello. “You listen here, Junebug,” she said after a moment. “If you work late tonight, you come over to the truck stop and I’ll fix you up with some of my peach cobbler. I want to have a word with you.” Silence while Sister listened. “Don’t you jaw that old line at me, Hewett Moncrief. You sound like one of those ventriloquist’s dummies, sitting on Billy Ray’s knee.” Eyes rolling, she handed the phone to me. “Jordy here.” “Hey,” Junebug said, subdued. “I guess y’all can open the library. My officers are busy doing scene-of-crime work over at Miz Harcher’s house. They’re all finished up with the back room at the library.” “Thanks. I might even reopen this afternoon. I’m going nuts just sitting around here.”

“Well, I would like for you to come over right now and give a statement about finding Shannon Harcher.” “Okay,” I said. “Let me make a couple of phone calls and I’ll be down.” We both hung up. I called the hospital. They wouldn’t provide information about Shannon’s condition. I asked for Ruth, but they said she was on duty in the emergency room. I had a feeling she was working on Shannon. I called Adam Hufnagel. His wife Tamma answered, sounding like she’d caught a bad cold and had just woken up. “What did you say?” she asked after I’d asked for Adam. I sighed, trying not to sound impatient. “I need to speak with Adam.” “He’s trying to take a nap, Jordy. He’s had a hard day.” “Well, maybe you can help me, Tamma. Do you know, did he keep his appointment with Shannon Harcher today?” There was a moment’s silence. “Yes, he mentioned he saw her. Why do you ask?” Her voice held the edge of suspicion she’d shown when she confronted me in her husband’s office. “If you have an extension, please put him on it,” I said. “I have news he needs to hear-you both need to hear.” There must’ve been something in my tone, because she didn’t argue. I held while she roused him. When he came on the line, I waited until I heard Tamma pick the phone back up. “Shannon Harcher was shot today at Beta’s house. Junebug and I found her. She’s in critical condition at the hospital. They’ve arrested Eula Mae,” I said. Adam wheezed and Tamma was silent. “Why Eula Mae?” “I don’t want to get into that, but apparently I was right. Beta was profiting from her involvement in your church’s activities, like your rummage sale. Just thought you’d like to know. You might want to be a little more choosy with your volunteers.” I hung up, not wanting to further my conversation with those two. I called Candace, told her what all had happened during the course of the afternoon (including Eula Mae’s confession-I trusted Candace to keep a secret to the grave), and asked her to open up the library. I asked her if she’d mind working late so folks could use the library a bit longer than usual, since it’d been closed for two days.

She didn’t mind a whit and kept inquiring as to my well-being. I told her I’d see her shortly. I finished eating and told Sister I’d be home later than usual. We went upstairs and checked with Mark. He’d laid in a big supply of borrowed videos and wasn’t averse to taking care of Mama. I put the VCR on pause and told him about Shannon. Mark’s dark eyes grew wide. “Can we go down to the hospital to see her?” I shook my head. “Not now. She’s in intensive care, I’m sure. Maybe later.”

“Is she going to die? Was it gross? Do you think she’s in a lot of pain?” “I don’t know, Mark, and yes, it was gross.” I glanced at the videotapes he’d borrowed from friends, every one a bloodbath. “I don’t think I’ll ever want to see one of those movies again myself.” Mark looked at the collected Arnolds and Dirty Harrys with new eyes. He pushed the off button and the VCR fell quiet. “Maybe not these, tonight. Maybe I’ll just read a book for a change.” I went to the police station and made my statement. It was fairly short and simple.