Do Unto Others

“So where are you meeting her?” She must’ve smelled my cologne through the receiver. Some women can do that. There was no getting past this, and I got a little hot. Candace was my friend and co-worker, but nothing more. No matter how cute and caring she could be, she could also be damned aggravating. I didn’t owe her an explanation. “Look, Candace, she asked me out to dinner. She wants to discuss Beta. And I’ve found out some other information that makes me want to talk to Ruth even more.” “Well, I want to discuss Beta, too.” “Candace-” I began but didn’t finish. Didn’t have a prayer. “I’ll tell you this, but if my mother finds out I’m in deep mud. Beta banked at Mother’s bank here in town. And she deposited $35,000 cash into her savings account a week ago.” “Good Lord! Where-” “-did she get that kind of money?” Candace finished my sentence with a vexatious amount of smugness. “Damn good question.” “God, Candace, how’d you find that out? That’s supposed to be confidential.” “Mother better not find out.

I got one of the tellers to help me. She told me the police were already looking into Beta’s accounts.” “Well, that’s interesting, Candace. I assume that Miz Harcher didn’t generally deposit that kind of money in her account.” Candace snorted. “Nope. Hardly ever had a balance over five thousand, and most of that from the trust her daddy left her. She wasn’t poor, but she wasn’t wealthy either.” I recalled the conversations I’d had today, and how that money might fit in. I glanced at my watch; I was going to be late getting over to Bavary. “I got to go, Candace. I’ll phone you later tonight.” That placated her.

“Okay. Don’t have any fun with that witch.” I hung up and my male pride roared at me. Why on earth did I promise to call Candace after seeing Ruth? I didn’t owe Candace an up-to-the-minute activity report.

As I descended the stairs, Sister lectured a sullen Mark about taking care of Mama. Mark turned hostile eyes on me. “I had plans tonight, you know. You ain’t the only one with a social life.” “Sorry, Mark.

I’ll make it up to you.” Maybe if I bought him a Playboy, he’d warm up to me. Only problem was if Sister found out, she’d warm up even faster. As in nuclear meltdown. “Well, just make sure you come home tonight,” Mark said. “Don’t worry, I’m not out to score.” “I don’t mean that, Uncle Jordy. Just don’t get arrested.” Rosita’s screamed with color. The walls were a riotous lime green (to accompany the riotous behavior the margaritas could cause), adorned with oversized and vibrant paintings of red parrots, rainbow-beaked toucans, and black sombreros. Tinny Latino music chirped from mounted speakers.

There was a patio that faced a side street in Bavary, but it overflowed with customers who were slurping down drinks, stuffing nachos in their faces, and all talking simultaneously. I wanted quiet for my tete-a-tete with Ruth. I went in and was heartened that most patrons were taking advantage of the nice, clear night outdoors. The dining room wasn’t too crowded. A beautiful young woman with ebony eyes and luxurious black hair approached me with a smile. “I’m meeting someone-” I began but she didn’t let me finish. “You Mr. Poteet?”

“Yes.” “This way, please.” I followed her to a dim corner booth, where Ruth Wills sat as comfortable as a cat curled up on a pillow. Her brown hair swept up in a flattering way, and her eyes were dark in the pale light. She looked a little more urbane than the typical customer, in a black mock turtleneck and tailored gray slacks. A simple diamond pendant hung about her neck. I tried not to stare at the diamond, since it reposed on her shapely breasts. I didn’t want her to mistake why I was here. Her physical attractiveness hadn’t lured me here, I reminded myself-I wanted answers. But suddenly I found myself swallowing when a simple hello would have done nicely. “Jordy,” she said, offering me her hand. I took it, wondering for a moment if kissing it was out of the question. Her customary attire was a baggy sweatshirt and jeans; she looked lovely that way, but now she was positively gorgeous. And had she changed her voice? She spoke as smoothly as the curve of her hip. “Ruth. Nice to see you.” You could tell I was making my small talk extra-suave and elegant. I coughed for refuge and sat. “I’ve taken the liberty of ordering a pitcher of margaritas,” she murmured. “I hope you don’t mind.” “That’s fine.” I tried to get seated comfortably without making the vinyl squeak. “I wanted us to get together socially. I’m sorry that I waited until such sad circumstances.” She placed a hand near her pendant, as though taking a pledge. “Granted that Miss Harcher was not the most beloved person in town, but as a nurse I find it hard to wish anyone ill.”