Jeff Abbott - Do Unto Others

“But I tried to help her. Before all that to-do over the library, I even tried to set her up on a date.” “Date?” My throat caught. A date.

With Beta Harcher. One could only imagine the possibilities, since none of them would ever take place. “Yes,” Janice smiled, remembering, “but her reputation preceded her. I couldn’t find a willing widower in all of Bonaparte County.” That seemed to me the saddest part of all. I felt bad for Beta all of a sudden, despite everything. No matter how much trouble she’d caused folks, each day she had to wake up and live the hell of a life she’d created for herself. Alone and unloved, and now cold in the morgue with hardly a person to mourn her. I got up from the couch and walked into the warming sunlight streaming through the sliding-glass window that led to the Schneiders’ porch. I felt Janice’s eyes follow me. “You were working with her on the Vacation Bible School plans, weren’t you?” I could almost hear her relax behind me. “Yes, I was. I have to admit, I think both Tamma and I were dreading it after her getting kicked off the library board. But she was easy to work with, undemanding and even calm.” “Did you know that she was planning on moving to Houston and opening a fundamentalist church there?” I asked, turning back to her. Janice obviously didn’t.

Her perky face tightened in surprise. “Beta? Her own church? I find that hard to believe.” “Believe it. She told her niece all about it and stashed away a little money as her start-up funds.” “How… surprising. I’m sure folks at church didn’t know anything about this.”

She paused. “If it’s true, maybe that’s why she’d gotten even more involved in the administrative side of the church lately. The youth trips, the rummage sale, the school. Maybe she wanted to learn how to run such things.” I nodded my agreement. Janice cleared her throat and tried to change the subject. “How is Anne doing? Are you and Arlene holding up?” “Fine, thank you for asking,” I answered, keeping the sarcasm out of my voice. I wanted to say: come down and see her for yourself-it’s not catching; but I refrained. I walked back to Janice, sitting perfectly on her perfect little couch in her perfect little house. I pressed onward. “You know that when I found Beta, there was a list of names in her pocket. With Bible quotes next to them.” Janice set her coffee cup back in its saucer with a rattle. “Yes, I know.

Junebug Moncrief told us when he came to ask Hally some questions.”

“Then you know that Hally’s name was on that list.” She nodded. “The whole thing’s silly. Hally had nothing to do with Beta.” “Except that she went to his church, he headed up a youth group that she chaperoned, and she baby-sat for his brother.” Janice took refuge in silence. She sipped at her empty coffee cup. “Most of the other names of people on that list are library board members. There are a few, though, that aren’t. Hally made it onto Beta’s list, and you didn’t.

I’m curious as to why.” “To know that, I’d have to know why she made that list,” Janice countered. “I don’t. Do you?” “I have my suspicions,” I answered airily. Suspicions and no proof. “The quote next to Hally’s name was ‘Fools make a mock of sin.’ Do you have any idea what that means?” “None whatsoever. Hally is beyond reproach,” she snapped. I must’ve hit a nerve; she’d stopped smiling. “Please, Janice,” I smiled. “He’s a teenager. Teenagers do dumb things sometimes. It doesn’t mean he’s not a good kid.” I glanced around at the ideally pristine room and wondered if anything less than perfection was acceptable in Janice’s eyes. “I don’t know of anything that Hally has done that Beta could find fault with,” Janice asserted.

“Beta found fault with things most people would consider faultless.

Like D. H. Lawrence and Nathaniel Hawthorne,” I reminded her. “I had a talk with Hally yesterday. At the very mention of Beta Harcher and her death he was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. I’m just wondering why.” “How dare you!” she sputtered, jumping to her feet. “How dare you come into my home and suggest that my son had anything remotely to do with a murder.” I crossed my arms.

“Spare me the histrionics, Janice. I’d never have suggested it if Beta hadn’t had his name on that list and if he hadn’t acted so skittish.”

“Of course he was skittish. He knew her. She was murdered. That’s upsetting to people!” It certainly seemed to upset her. “Remorseful, maybe. Saddened, maybe. But not skittish. Hally acts like he has something to hide, Janice.” The very suggestion enraged her. Her arms, hanging at her side, cocked into L’s, and her fingers jerked with anger. If I’d been within reach, she would have slapped me. “Get out.

Get out of my house,” she whispered. I obviously hadn’t handled this well. My approach of forthrightness with Hally hadn’t worked on his mother. I set my coffee cup down on her table and I raised palms in supplication. “Okay, Janice, okay. Don’t bust an artery or anything, I’m going.” She stood there, trembling, watching me leave. I felt like I’d smeared something nasty across her spotless white interiors. Hally was pulling up in his little Mustang when I walked out onto the yard.

He smiled uncertainly when he saw me. “Hey, Jordy,” he called as he unfolded himself from the car. “Hi, Hally,” I said, deciding to take the offensive again. “Look, I’ve upset your mother. We were discussing Beta Harcher.” Hally’s blue eyes flashed. “What is it with you, Jordy?

Why don’t you just let the police do their job and leave everyone else alone?” He was mad at me, but he was more scared. I could see the fear in his face, lurking behind the braggadocio he wore like a mask. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rattle your mother.” Hally ignored me and stormed toward the house. I couldn’t resist. “Oh, Hally, I did see Chelsea Hart this morning. Charming girl. She sends you her best.” He tottered, torn between the idea of coming back across the yard and dealing with me and going in the house to either see Janice or possibly hide under his bed. Mom won. The door slammed hard behind him, rattling the bay windows Janice had added to give her house extra class. I exhaled slowly, not feeling proud of myself. Well, I’d stirred up the hornet’s nest at the Schneiders. I retraced my conversation with Janice in my head. I could have been a lot more diplomatic, I supposed. I turned and headed down the street, walking along the line where grass met road and balancing on it like a high-wire walker. Josh Schneider nearly ran me down before I saw him.

He came pedaling down the road, carefully perched on his little shiny blue bicycle. He stopped about three feet dead from me, the tires pealing pleasantly as he halted. “Josh. Hi, how are you?” Even as I asked, I glanced back at the Schneiders’. We were in front of my house, so I didn’t think Hally or Janice could see. I’m sure if they could have, Josh would’ve been snapped up quick. “Got a second to talk?” “Sure,” he sniffed. Where Hally was a younger version of his father (my cousin Harold), Josh was a petite Janice. He resembled her, with his fine looks and brownish hair, but more than that, he acted like her. I’d never smiled so much as a child. I don’t think I’d seen Josh without a grin before, cheering up the other kids. He wasn’t smiling now, looking a sad figure in dusty jeans, a cartooned T-shirt, and neon-lined tennis shoes. “Hey, buddy, you doing okay?” I squatted down next to him. He shrugged. “I guess so.” “You sad about something?” Josh nodded. “I miss Miz Harcher. I loved her.” My throat tightened. Someone did actually care about the old battle-ax. I chastened myself for thinking that. Beta’s parents must have loved her, surely. Perhaps some young man once considered her pretty and smart and fascinating. But that was all long ago. Maybe Josh’s love was the only love Beta knew. My jaw felt tight as I looked into Josh’s dark, unhappy eyes. “I know you did, buddy. She loved you, too.” I said it with no knowledge of its truth, but it sounded fair. If she could have loved anyone, maybe it was this little boy who was so unsullied by the sin she saw in everyone else. “Then why’d she have to die, Jordy?” Josh asked, his face frowning into tears he was repressing. God, how do you explain death to a five-year-old? I couldn’t do it. I didn’t have a clue. I took one of Josh’s hands in mine. “Someone took her away, Josh.” I fumbled for an explanation to help, but Josh didn’t need my words. He had his own. “One of the bad people did it,” he said, folding thin arms over his stomach. The little Martian man from the Looney Tunes cartoons peered at me from Josh’s T-shirt, his head peeking above Josh’s crossed arms and daring me to contradict the boy. I didn’t know what defined a bad person, but Josh was correct to a degree. “Yes, a bad person killed her.” “She said they were here,” Josh added mournfully, and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Bad people were here?” I asked, trying not to sound too stupid in front of this bright little boy. This was no news to me, though. I was stupid much of the time, it seemed, and Beta thought just about everyone was pretty bad. “Yeah, she said they were.” Josh blinked at me, then glanced around, as though bad people might creep up right behind us. I tented my cheek with my tongue, thinking. “What did she say about the bad people, Josh? Who were they?