Do Unto Others

“She put out the bat on the path to the library, already wiped clean of prints. She watched and made sure that I’d picked up the bat and then took it inside with me. Perhaps Beta had told her already about threatening me with closing the library, and Tamma made sure she was there to see Beta assault me. She was the one who told Junebug and Billy Ray that I’d said, in anger, that I could’ve killed Beta.” “You do have a mouth on you,” Candace agreed. “So Tamma met Beta at the library and killed her.” “Yeah. According to Tamma’s confession, Beta wanted to pray before they torched it, like the library was going to be some burnt offering before God. Tamma said she put on her gloves and hit Beta halfway through the Lord’s Prayer.” I shivered. “Then she planted the key on Beta’s body. That I don’t get,” Candace said. “She wanted it to look like Beta had managed to get her own key somehow. If she had a key, she didn’t need anyone on the library board to let her in. The story about Beta swiping Adam’s key was pure fluff.” “Beta’s little list, though, put attention on other people besides you.”

“That’s right, sugar. Tamma didn’t know about that list. She did tell Junebug though, that Beta had bragged to her that when her church was built, she was going to have pews in it with contributors’ names plaqued on them, along with an appropriate Bible verse. Sick, isn’t it?” “But how did Tamma know you’d be at the library around the time of the murder?” Candace asked. “She didn’t. That was bad luck on my part. Tamma told Junebug that I’d scared the hell out of her; she had just killed Beta not a minute before I walked in. After I left, Tamma went home and got there before Adam got back from having his therapeutic joint with Matt Blalock. When the police started asking for alibis, Adam made up the story that they’d both been home watching an old John Wayne movie. He never dreamed his wife needed an alibi worse than he did. He was only worried about someone finding out about his smoking dope.” “Tamma must’ve been searching for that videotape when Shannon surprised her,” Candace said. “Tamma claims they fought for the gun and it went off by accident. Of course, it went off in a closed room and nearly deafened Tamma. When I called the Hufnagels to tell them about Shannon being shot, I thought Tamma sounded funny, like she had a cold, and I had to repeat myself for her to hear me. It was from the shock of the gunshot.” “How’s Shannon doing?” Candace asked. She’d gotten out of surgery an hour or so before Bob Don was rushed in. “They’re very hopeful. God, that poor girl.” Candace snuggled next to me. It felt great. “Lord, all this suffering that Beta and Tamma caused.” I grunted in agreement and hugged her close.

Candace murmured, “One of Junebug’s deputies went by the Goertzes’, to see about getting Gretchen to come to the hospital. They found her passed out in bed. She won’t be coming down today, at least.” “I’m not sure Gretchen would come anyway, Candace. I think she hates him now.

Maybe it’s for the best, ’cause I don’t think he ever loved her.” A runty figure lounged in the doorway, watching me. I let Candace go.

“Sugar, would you excuse me? I’d like to talk to Uncle Bid in private, please.” Candace rose and left, murmuring a hello to Bid. He didn’t answer, he just kept staring those glassy dark eyes at me. He lit up a cigarillo. The knitting lady, fuming worse than the smoke, gathered up her yarn and fled. “I see you survived the night,” Bid drawled at me.

“From all accounts, that’s something of a miracle. Perhaps Six Flags Over Texas will design a stunt show after your adventures.” He snickered. I stood and smiled down at him. “Cut the crap with me, Bid.

I know what you are, and although I didn’t think it possible, I dislike you more than ever.” He squinted through smoke with his intimidate-the-prosecution eyes. “Whatever do you mean?” “That extra $25,000 in Beta’s savings account, that I thought for a while either Ruth Wills or Bob Don had paid off Beta with. That’s your money.” “I don’t know what you mean, Jordy.” I pulled the photo and letter I’d found at the back of the Bible in Beta’s house last night. I’d kept them in my back pocket, as close to my heart as a picture of Uncle Bid would ever get. “Not really a good likeness of you, Bidwell. You had a lot of hair then.” I dangled the photo in front of his face, watching his shock, then admired the snapshot myself. It was an old photo, black and white, in a sleeve with a State Fair of Texas border around it, 1960. A younger Beta and a younger Bid, smiling, arms around each other. Beta had a wisp of the famous State Fair cotton candy in the corner of her mouth and she looked like a fun-loving kid. “You’d said you never dated her, that she was too wild for you. But you lied. You got her pregnant and you paid for her to go to Mexico for a quiet little abortion. Then you dumped her. She turned to religion for solace like a drunk turns to the bottle.” “That’s an ugly lie, Jordy,”