Do Unto Others

14

I wasn’t about to castigate half my family tree for all the lying that they might’ve done to me over my lifetime and then lie to Candace. Especially not after making love. I don’t imagine either of us had thought we’d consummate our relationship, if we ever had one, on the library couch where Old Man Renfro read the Houston papers every morning. So, with Candace lying against me, her warm back against my chest, I told her about Ruth’s advances to me, and her request that I meet her later this evening. “Are you going?” Candace asked, looking at the floor as though there was an object of monumental interest on the carpet. “No, I don’t believe so,” I said, stroking Candace’s hair. “I’m not going to pretend that Ruth isn’t sexy, but she’s not real attractive to me. You know the difference.”

“I wonder what she meant, though. Saying she could help you be sure that your mama was never in a home.” I rolled my eyes. “Probably just a coy lure to get me over there. I am, of course, above such common ploys.” “Maybe she was going to offer you money for your services.”

Candace giggled, now that Ruth was swept under the rug. “She certainly seems to do well for a nurse in a small town.” “Doesn’t she, though?

Nice jewelry, new Miata.” “Kept woman,” Candace guessed. “She’d fit the bill.” “Kept by whom?” I said, kissing her ear. “Maybe that’s an angle we haven’t considered.” Candace considered. “There’s any number of candidates in town, but that’d be a damned hard secret to keep.”

“I’m starting to think that adage about no secrets in a small town is a load of crap,” I answered. “We seem to be unearthing them left and right.” “Adam Hufnagel,” Candace said. “That’d be my guess. He’s smooth but sometimes I swear he’s got his mind elsewhere. Like maybe on a sweet young thang for a mistress.” “Your ability to see scandal everywhere,” I laughed, hugging her, “is one of your most attractive traits.” I hadn’t expected to smile or laugh anytime soon, considering the past two hours. Candace was good for me. “You’re smiling,” she said, glancing up at me. “You put it there.” It was she who smiled this time. “Look, about Bob Don-” “Honey, if I dwell on that I’m going to go crazy. I have to deal with it, no doubt. But I want to finish what I started. I want to find out who killed Beta and shot Shannon. I want the suffering that crazy bitch caused people to stop. And I want to find those letters.” I paused. “Anyhow, if Ruth is a kept woman, how could she say she’d help me? That would only work if the money was hers. I don’t think her lover would take too kindly to underwriting her affairs.” “I don’t think you should pursue this anymore, Jordy,”

Candace said carefully, turning in my arms to face me. She snuggled to me, kissing my cheek with small nibbles. It felt so good I held my breath. “You’ve gone through enough in the past few days. Just tell Junebug what you’ve learned and let him do it.” “No,” I said. “I’m not going to have Mama’s possible indiscretions broadcast around town as part of a murder investigation. I already know that Beta blackmailed Eula Mae and tried to blackmail Bob Don and might’ve tried to get money out of my mother, if she thought she could. That list of Beta’s must be a blackmail list, some way she thought she was going to get money out of folks for their sins so she could build her damned Holy-Roller church. I still don’t believe that Eula Mae could’ve killed her. I can’t let her rot in jail.” “So what was she trying to blackmail folks over? Aside from those rather vague quotes, you don’t have a clue.” “No, there’s more.” I reminded Candace about the books Beta had checked out and Shannon had returned to me. “She got that book on video technology and on a trip she’s on with Hally Schneider, his camcorder disappears. She had a book on book publishing and she’d squeezed ten grand out of Eula Mae. She’d gotten a book on Alzheimer’s, maybe to bone up on whether my mother could remember enough of her past to be blackmailed.” “There’s that book on drugs,”

Candace said. “Yes, there is, isn’t there? And I didn’t mention this before, but Matt Blalock had been smoking a joint when I went out to see him. I’m wondering if there’s a connection between that drug-abuse book and Matt being on her list.” “Big whoop,” Candace huffed.

“Everybody knows those guys in Vietnam tried it. I don’t think that would terribly surprise anyone that Matt might smoke marijuana.” She eyed me. “You don’t do that, do you?” “Not anymore,” I said. “I tried it in college once, but I’d rather smoke tobacco.” “I wonder. Maybe Hally’s the one doing the drugs. You hear about how bad it is in the high schools.” “Maybe, but Hally really doesn’t seem to be into that.

I don’t think he could sneak it too easily around his Stepford battle-ax mother.” “Gaston said Beta’s car was out late at night by the Blalocks’ last week,” Candace said. I stood. “Wait a minute. Let’s say she was out there sneaking around, ’cause she suspected drug-type activities were going on at Matt’s. What would you wear?” “I don’t know what DEA agents currently find fashionable,” Candace sniffed.

“Maybe black? I’ll bet that old toot was out sneaking on their farm at night, dressed in black so she couldn’t be seen. And out back on Matt’s farm, the overgrowth is as dense as the day Mirabeau was founded. Perfect to hide a marijuana crop. It might stay muddy back there, even if we hadn’t had rain for a few days. Remember that tarry-black mud on Beta’s shoes?” Candace licked her lips. “I think you might have a point. Call Junebug and tell him about it.” “He couldn’t do anything. We don’t have a shred of proof.” I pulled on my pants and fumbled in my pockets for my keys. “I think I should go out there and take a look.” “If Matt Blalock’s growing pot in the forest, there’s no need for you to go stomping around out there,” Candace insisted. “If Bob Don’s telling the truth, he didn’t give Beta a cent.

Now there’s $25,000 in Beta’s account that she got recently. If I can find who else paid off Beta, I can kill me several birds with one stone. I can maybe get suspicion off Eula Mae, find out if Bob Don is remotely telling the truth, and maybe see who might have torn apart Beta’s house and shot Shannon.” I jingled my keys. “Now I’m going out there and see if ol’ Matt had anything worth being blackmailed over.”

“Fine. I’m coming with you.” Candace stood. “No, you’re not. It might be dangerous.” “I am too coming with you.” “No, you’re not.” Candace and I were obviously on the accelerated course for relationships. We’d made love and had our first fight in pert’ near record time. And guess who won? Candace insisted that we eat before going out to the Blalock property. It was close to nine and I desultorily ate a cheeseburger and fries at the Dairy Queen. Candace picked at a basket of chicken fingers, Texas toast, and peppered cream gravy. We sat on the same side of the booth (sure to fuel gossip) and when I pushed my food away, Candace took my hand. “I expected you to have more of an appetite, Jordy.” She smiled. “Sorry, I just-” “Hey, Mr. Poteet. How you?” One of the high-school boys who I’d helped in the library once in researching a paper passed by, cleaning off the next table. “Fine, Mike. How are you?” “Fair to middlin’.” He finished bussing the table and moved on. “Mr. Poteet,” I said. “Notice I didn’t correct that young man. I’ll just have to get those letters and get Bob Don to give me a little blood for a test. Gretchen had already bloodied him, so maybe I should have just asked him for some then.” “Don’t sound bitter. We’re going to find out the truth.” I slapped my head. “God, I haven’t called Sister. I haven’t told them where I am.” Candace fished a quarter from her purse. “Take my advice, you’re in no shape to chat with them right now. Let me.” I did. She came back from the pay phone with a faint smile. “Your nephew is holding down the fort. I made up a story that we had to stay late at the library to catch up on work from being closed.” “Thanks.” I squeezed her hands and she squeezed back. I looked down at the ruins of my hamburger. “I don’t have much stomach for this. Let’s go.” We made a quick stop at Candace’s for her to change into a dark sweatshirt, jeans, and sneakers. I was already in a chambray shirt, jeans, and boots, so I figured I was camouflaged enough. She came back to the truck quickly, with a heavy dark flashlight in her hand. I hadn’t even thought that far ahead. I was glad she was being the brains; mine felt too fried. She modeled her black sneakers for me. They were expensive looking and I’m sure would make Candace look like a badass on the aerobics floor. “Aren’t they cute?” she said. “I got ’em for the ladies’ soccer league over in Bavary.” “Charming,” I murmured. “Just what every aspiring Nancy Drew needs.” She huffed and handed me an old dark windbreaker and an Astros baseball cap, dark navy with an orange A stitched in the middle.

“Cover up that blond hair of yours, smarty.” I bowed and pulled the cap low on my head. The drive out to the farm-to-market road that eventually curved away from Mirabeau and into the east side of Bavary was brief and uneventful. The night hung above us, heavy with clouds.

The moon peeked through occasionally, like a flirtatious girl. I could hardly see any stars and I wanted to. My daddy had always told me wishes on stars were the best kind to make. I parked the Blazer far off the road, on the side opposite the Blalock property. We shut the door softly, both of us suddenly aware of how far sound travelled in the hush of night. Crickets chirped busily, as though gossiping about our errand. The air felt cool; the heat of spring had temporarily fled. I shivered in the navy windbreaker, walked around to the passenger side of the Blazer, and hugged Candace close. “We’ll have to be very quiet,” I told her. “No talking. Let me have the flashlight and stick close to me.” She nodded and took my hand. Her palm felt good against mine. We dashed across a weed-eaten field, across the farm-to-market road, and then began our careers as trespassers. We crept into the deepening gloom of the overgrowth. I kept the spot of light moving low on the ground. Shadows blurred together as trees grew closer. In this part of Texas we have trees called lost pines, and there were a lot of them to be found in these woods. They’re called lost because you have to get farther east, toward Arkansas and Louisiana to hit real heavy Texas pine forests. These pines had gotten separated from their eastern brothers and taken root here. The idea of wandering trees made me think of the last scene of Macbeth, unluckiest of plays. Thin and soaring, the lost pines bunched around us, forming nature’s own maze. My shoulders kept bumping against their trunks, and I could feel an occasional needle fall against me. We wandered for at least thirty minutes, moving in a widening circle. I didn’t know the legal boundaries of the Blalock property but I was willing to guess that we’d crossed them long ago. We didn’t speak. I kept playing the light across the needle-strewn dirt and Candace kept her fingers dug into my belt, freeing my hands. I played the light a little higher and she saw them before I did, silently guiding my arm back to where I’d shined the light. Fronds of five, poking up in fairly even rows. There were a lot of rows; a lot of money. I bit my lip, thinking. “Those are pot plants!” Candace whispered in my ear.

She disengaged her fingers from my belt. “What should we do now? We’ve got some proof; let’s get the hell out and call Junebug.” “Let me think a second,” I mumbled back. I played the light a little higher, above the fronds, and that’s when I saw it. A small box, fastened to a tree not four feet away from us. My arm lashed out and I grabbed Candace in an iron grip. “Don’t move,” I said in a normal tone of voice. “Booby trap.” She froze like Lot’s wife. Her arm muscles bunched and tensed under my fingers. Slowly and deliberately, I played the light directly around our feet. About three inches from Candace’s left foot there was a wire. I kept the light on it and squeezed her arm twice. “Jordy-” she hissed. “That’s the trigger, by your foot.

I’ll move first, okay? I’m going to step to your right, then I want you to follow me exactly. Exactly, Candace. Do you understand?” I sensed her nod in the darkness. “You don’t step where I haven’t already stepped. You hit a wire and those boxes blow buckshot in your face. They blow off your head. You understand me?” “Yes.” Her voice was frightened but steady. “Okay. I’m moving now.” I pressed the light down on the ground, shuffling my feet slowly to her right. I put my back to her and she looped fingers in my belt again. Keeping the light tightly focused on the dark earth, I moved forward, away from the wire. Candace stuck to me like ugly on an ape. God only knew how many other wires we might have passed by. I didn’t think we could have made it unawares passing many; no one’s luck was that strong. If they’d strung wires higher than our feet we would have hit them, but from what I’d heard about such traps I didn’t think it likely they were strung that way. We shuffled along for several minutes at an agonizingly slow pace. Every movement made me wonder if hot lead would pepper our bodies. The clouds parted and the moon glanced through, casting a little more light through the arching pines. We’d gotten a fair distance away and I felt Candace sag against me. “Are we clear of them?” she breathed. “I’m not sure. We’ll take it slow for a while longer.” We scraped our shoes along. We hadn’t gone too much farther when Candace gave a gasp and, reaching around me, snapped off the flashlight. I didn’t make a noise and I whirled. Two other lights fanned through the trees, searching, less than thirty feet away. My heart, exercised enough over the course of this unforgettable evening, jumped back into my mouth, where it felt right at home. “Here’s their track!” a course male voice hissed in darkness. His light played along where we’d been dragging our feet, trenching out a nice little path in the forest for homicidal drug dealers to follow. I seized Candace’s arm and ran, tearing through the brush. If we didn’t move, they’d track us easy. I’d rather risk hitting a wire than begging for my life from a pot harvester. Bullets whined above our heads and Candace yelped. I didn’t think she was hit ’cause she started running harder than me. You just don’t know the adrenal surge you get when someone’s shooting at you. I couldn’t imagine the high was any less than what you got from the plants these folks guarded. Another bullet thundered and bark exploded from a trunk a few feet left of my head. I yanked Candace to the right and barreled into the bushes. We ran for several more feet, and then hunkered down. She pressed her face against my back, not wanting to look up. I heard footsteps running along past us, and I kept as still as stone. The moon flirted again, hiding behind one of the long, thready clouds that streaked the night sky. I cursed myself for my stupidity. I should have brought a gun, I shouldn’t have brought Candace, I shouldn’t have come up here myself. My own stubbornness might get us killed. Candace’s fingers twined with mine in the silence and the darkness. We crouched there in the bushes, letting minutes pass. I heard footsteps coming back along the forest floor, and I risked a peek through the foliage. I saw a dark form striding along, a shotgun nestled under one arm. Faint moonlight gave a profile I knew. Hair pulled back, high cheekbones, confident body.

The eyes I couldn’t see, but I had looked into them enough to know they were intelligent and catlike. Ruth Wills. I held my breath as she passed within ten feet of us. Candace kept her eyes buried in the side of her arm. Ruth went by and I heard a man’s voice, unfamiliar and tinged with a Spanish accent, call to her in the distance. I didn’t hear her answer. I hunkered back down and counted to two hundred. I wasn’t sure it was enough, but I wanted the hell out of there. Slowly, Candace and I crept along the forest floor, not using the flashlight, stopping in the pitch blackness and waiting for the moon to be kind and dimly light our way. Eventually the forest spat us out on a stretch of the farm-to-market road. I got my bearings and figured we were about a mile from the car. We hiked back, keeping a ways off the road, without flash-light. One pickup passed and we hid in a ditch, waiting for the truck to disgorge Jamaicans with Uzis. The truck whizzed past, only tossing out a Clint Black tune from a cranked radio. We made it back to the Blazer. The tires weren’t slashed and no one lay in wait for us. We got in the car, I started the engine with a minimum of noise and, keeping the lights out, shot down the road. “God in Heaven!” Candace yelled at the top of her lungs. Apparently I hadn’t heard her entire decibel range. “We could have gotten killed!

Jesus Christ, Jordy!” “Okay, so now we have proof,” I said placatingly. “Assuming they don’t torch the crop and clear out because they think someone’s onto them. They might’ve thought we were just deer.” “Deer don’t drag their feet for half an acre, babe. They saw our tracks,” she fumed. “Okay. Here’s the plan. I’ll drop you at home, and you go straight to bed. I will go and call Junebug and-” “No, Jordy, here’s the plan. We go straight to the police station, right this minute. And we tell Junebug everything, damn it! Everything!” I, unfortunately for Candace, still had control of the steering wheel. I pulled up a few minutes later in front of her house. “To the station!” she barked. “Can I use your phone?” I asked sweetly. Since the phone was already closer, I won. Candace stood there while I called the police station. Junebug was at home, but I got his deputy. I explained what had happened and he told me to stay put, and he and Junebug would be over shortly. I hung up quickly so I couldn’t claim I’d heard him.

“They’ll be over shortly,” I informed Candace. “Fine. I look a wreck.”

Candace stormed off to the bathroom. She shut the door and I bolted, easing her front door shut behind me. I had decided to keep my appointment with Ruth. I wanted to see if she’d show up. I was late and so was she. I made sure that I cleaned off any pine needles from my person. I was certain she hadn’t seen me, but I didn’t want to give her any clues as to where I’d been spending my evening. I parked in front of Ruth’s modest little home and she wheeled into her driveway a few minutes later. She pulled herself out of the Miata, dirty in jeans and a black windbreaker. I saw her glance at her watch, then wiggle fingers at me. I wondered if those fingers had pulled the trigger that had nearly blasted my head off. I steadied my nerves and my anger and put a smile on my face. Mama always said to smile in adversity, and I was grinning from ear to ear. “I’m a wreck,” she purred, not too differently from Candace. “Sorry I’m late, come on in.” She unlocked her door and I followed her into her den. Contemporary, Danish-style furniture decorated her home. Travel posters of faraway places covered the walls: Prague, London, Beijing, Calcutta. I didn’t see Peru represented but maybe she didn’t want to advertise the competition.

She stopped and I nearly bumped into her. She turned into my arms and kissed me hard. I forced myself to respond, but even as beautiful as she was, I’d rather have bit into an overripe lemon. “I could use a shower,” she murmured against my throat. “How about joining me?”

“Business first, sweetheart,” I said cordially, pulling her arms from my shoulders. “I believe you have a proposition for me?” “Business before pleasure,” she laughed. “I like that in a man.” “I need to get back home, Ruth, and I don’t like to beat around the bushes.” No, I preferred running through them to avoid getting shot. I swallowed.

“You didn’t ask me to come over here for just a roll in the hay, did you?” “No. What’s your financial situation, Jordy dearest?” “I’m totally broke.” “Really?” She stared into my eyes. “I’m sure everyone thinks I’m keeping Mama at home out of nobility. It started that way, but now it’s necessity. I don’t have the money to put her in a decent place and I doubt I ever will on a librarian’s salary.” I leaned down and kissed her roughly. She responded and I broke the embrace. “So what’s this proposition? You going to show me the pot of gold or you just gonna share a winning lottery ticket?” Her lovely, lying face studied mine for a long while. I made myself think of how little money I actually had left. I hoped I looked a little amoral and desperate.

Considering my position, I probably put on a good show. I wasn’t found wanting on whatever internal scale she used. “I need you, Jordy. The same way I need Matt. He was in dire straits, too, you know. His family’s farm sure wasn’t paying for itself and his computer work wasn’t steady enough to help.” “Matt? I don’t understand,” I lied.

“What does he have to do with this?” “You were there when he was smoking some dope, and you didn’t blab on him to your buddy the chief of police. Why?” “Matt talks to you, obviously.” I smiled and made myself ruffle her hair. “I figured what Matt does is his own business.

Not mine. Anyway, drugs aren’t such a big deal. I knew plenty of folks who did coke and such up in Boston. Pot was a little too pedestrian for them.” “It’s not too pedestrian for the simple, hearty folks of Bonaparte County.” She laughed. “It’s a booming business.” She watched my face, and I inched up one corner of my mouth in a half-smile. “I’m glad to hear business is good. The local economy needs a boost. And so does my own pocketbook.” “Good,” she said. “Here’s the deal. I run the operation. You take orders from me. I hope being something of a good ol’ boy, you don’t have a problem with that.” “No, ma’am,” I drawled.

“Matt Blalock provides the land and two of the vets from his support group farm it and distribute it. Actually, you’re already somewhat involved-they’ve been using their support group meetings for a distribution time for several months now.” Blood rushed to my face and she saw it. Using my library for this? “I-I’m surprised,” I heard myself say. She shrugged. “We’re careful. I’ve got plots scattered all over Bonaparte and Bastrop counties. We mostly sell into Austin, but we’re selling more here, too. I thought you might help us, since so many young folks use the library for school papers and such. You’d be a good contact for them.” I made myself smile. “Get a joint with their Joyce?” “That’s the idea. You catch on fast, Jordy. I knew you’d be a natural at this.” I tried not to bristle at the compliment. “Just how secure is this operation? Aren’t you worried about getting caught?”

“We move the planting sites around. We protect them with booby traps …” “So if someone stumbles across your crop and gets killed, you don’t get the cops coming in,” I said dryly. “We can move quickly, if we have to. I’ve done this for quite a while, Jordy.” She sat on the couch. “And we’ve got a friend in a high place.” I thought, and the answer came to me in inspiration. “Let me guess. Reverend Hufnagel.”

It was her turn to be surprised. I shrugged, as though my deduction was no big deal. “I saw him and Matt talking. Brother Adam claimed Matt wanted the church for a vets’ meeting. I just didn’t quite buy it.” I didn’t mention my trick phone call to Matt where he’d said there was no vets’ meeting for the week. “Well, cancer and chemotherapy’s one of our best business references.” Ruth laughed.

God, she was cruel. I wanted to wipe her kiss from my mouth. “Poor Reverend Hufnagel’s chemo last year was real hard on his body. I was his nurse. His pain got so bad I kidded him about trying pot to relieve it and he took me up on it. You could have knocked me over with a straw, but he was dead serious. He’s a real weakling about pain.” I couldn’t imagine the agony of chemotherapy and didn’t particularly want to try. “He developed a quick liking for it. Of course, he couldn’t let anyone know; he’d lose his church. So now, he just hooks up with Matt every few nights and smokes a joint before bed. I don’t think that priss-assed little wife of his knows.” I sat down next to her, quietly. “Beta put you on her list of sinners.

‘There is death in the pot.’ I thought her quote for you was about when she thought you tried to poison her. I see now the operative word there was pot.” “Just a coincidence,” Ruth said easily. “I don’t think so, Ruth. She was all in black when she was killed, and there was a lot of mud on her shoes. I’m thinking she was out traipsing around in the dark somewhere, maybe checking out one of your little secret plantations. Maybe she got some proof on you and Matt.” I paused.

“Maybe you killed her, and then shot Shannon when you were trying to find that evidence.” Ruth frowned. “I offer you a business proposition and you accuse me of murder. And here I thought you were a gentleman.”

She stood, went into the kitchen, and poured herself some water. “I didn’t have anything to do with Beta’s death or Shannon’s shooting.

Beta didn’t know anything about my sideline. When she was in the hospital, I just pretended I was going to poison her to scare her. I knew no one’d believe her, and I wasn’t going to hurt her. I just wanted to put the fear of God in the old girl.” “Your professional ethics are charming.” I smiled. She took it as humor, not as an insult. “So are you in?” “You’ve told me a lot; do I even have a choice?” “Sure you do. If you don’t want in, just keep your mouth shut. I mean, you wouldn’t want anything to happen to that sweet mama of yours, would you? Or maybe your sister, or her boy?” “I’m in,” I lied easily enough. “As long as you had nothing to do with Beta’s murder. I want no part of that.” “I didn’t kill her. Matt and Reverend Hufnagel, them I don’t know about.” She put down her water glass and came to me, wrapping her windbreakered arms around me. “How about we seal the contract the right way?” She kissed me, hard and demanding.

“Is this how you conduct all your negotiations?” I asked a moment later. “Yes,” she smiled. “Even with our friend Matt. Of course he had certain limitations, but I do admire initiative and enthusiasm.” “I can tell.” I pulled away from her. “We’ll seal our deal later-when we’ve agreed on my percentage. Shall I call you tomorrow?” “I don’t like being turned down twice, Jordy,” she snapped. An unpleasant gleam showed in her eyes. “Not turned down-just delayed. I have to get back home, or they’ll think something’s wrong. You don’t want me attracting undue attention, do you?” Sense made her relent. “All right. I’m working the day shift, but I’ll be off at three.” I told her I’d call her then. I stumbled out into the night to my car. I felt dirtier than after I’d run through the brambles. I took a long, hard drink of air and started the engine. I was about halfway down the long street she lived on when a Mirabeau police car shot past me. I saw it slow in front of her house. I had the strongest feeling that Junebug’d paid a visit to Matt Blalock and he’d turned in his boss. I wondered if Ruth would look as good in Bonaparte County Jail orange as she did in hospital white.