Jeff Abbott - Do Unto Others

I stood next to her, listening to her Miranda rights. She said she understood everything he said to her. I felt like I didn’t understand a damned thing. Eula Mae had lied, and taking credit for her sister’s work wasn’t too acceptable, but I didn’t think she was a killer. “The handcuffs, Chief,” Billy Ray said when her rights were read. “That’s not necessary, I assure you.” Eula Mae looked shocked at the very suggestion. Billy Ray began a whiny protest, but Junebug shook his head. The police chief took her by the elbow and led her toward the door. I finally found my voice. “Eula Mae! Do you want me to call my uncle Bid?” “God, no,” she retorted. “You better get me a real lawyer.”

“Shannon shot and Eula Mae arrested? You’re kidding, right?”

Sister was incredulous. “No, I’m not. He arrested her.” I poured Dr Pepper over ice cubes and listened to them pop. I forced a grilled cheese sandwich into my mouth. It was tasteless. “What does Junebug think Eula Mae did, read one of her books to Beta and bore her to death?” Sister snorted. “He and Billy Ray must be out of their minds.

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.

Billy Ray wasn’t around to taunt me this time; he was too busy arguing with Eula Mae and the lawyer from Bavary I’d hired. Apparently she and her lawyer were getting along just fine; they could both yell you deaf. I nearly felt sorry for Junebug. I picked up my notes on the case and shuffled through them. I thought a lot of questions were still unanswered by Eula Mae’s arrest. I stuck my notebook under my arm and headed out. I parked in front of the library. It was nearly four and we usually closed at six on Thursdays. I suppose it was hardly worth opening for two remaining hours, but I figured Candace and I could wrap up any loose ends from having been closed for a while. Plus, we might stay open a bit later, let the curiosity seekers get it out of their systems. Going in was a little harder than I thought it would be. My hand froze as I reached for the door. Beta’s bludgeoned face, eyes wide open in death, wasn’t waiting in there for me this time. But I couldn’t erase her easily from my thoughts. I made a concerted effort and instead of Beta’s battered head, I saw Shannon’s bloodied face. My fingertips massaged my eyes. Too much death, too much suffering for one little town. I heard the door open and Candace was there, wrapping her arms around me. “You okay?” she breathed against my chest. “Yeah. God, what a week,” I said, then chortled nervously. My own laughter sounded tinny in my ears. We put arms around each other and walked into the library together. The air had the same dense quality about it that Beta Harcher’s house had. I told myself that it was just from the library being shut up for two days, not death lingering in the air like some foul fog. The old air-conditioning system sputtered and cranked away, but it hadn’t yet dispelled the foreboding, pressing atmosphere. She’d brewed coffee, in the only brewer we had-back in the room where Beta’s body had lain. I set my notebook on the counter and I went back there. The tape outline was still down, etching where she fell. I didn’t know if I was yet allowed to pull the tape up, but I did, yanking it up violently. I wasn’t about to velvet-rope this section of the library and charge a quarter a peek. I felt mad-mad that Beta had hurt people, mad at what I’d been through, mad that Shannon was lying near death, even mad that little Josh Schneider got an awful early introduction to what death meant. Candace watched me, waiting for me to talk. “If Eula Mae killed her,” I finally said, “that means Beta died for $10,000. I never thought of a life in monetary terms.” I realized I was lying as soon as I said it. I’d thought of how much money Mama would need to live her limbo existence over the next twenty years. I closed my eyes, feeling more anger and shame. I got up, poured coffee, and went back to my tiny office. I sat down and Candace sat across from me. She was watching me with a concern that made me uneasy. I wondered-not for the first time-what it would be like to kiss her. Instead I coughed. “I suppose we should reshelve and check in books in the drop slip,” I said, attempting to sound professional. “Doesn’t look like we’re going to get any takers today.” Candace shook her head. “’Fraid so. I felt creepy when I got here, and I didn’t know how long you’d be at the station. So I called some of the regulars. Old Man Renfro and Gaston Leach both said they’d be over shortly.” “Followed, undoubtedly, by the town curious who’ll want to tour the death scene. Shall you be the docent or shall I?” I said. I sipped at my coffee. I kept thinking about Eula Mae, in jail and accused of murder and attempted murder.