Do Unto Others by Jeff Abbott Page B

something for school and Mom and Dad went out.” Hally had been an only, extra-adored child until his little brother Josh arrived five years ago, much to Janice’s embarrassment. She was the kind of woman who’d prefer no one know she was still getting sex at forty.
    “So you knew her socially.”
    “I saw her at church. She had some definite opinions about how the youth group should be run.” I remembered what Tamma Hufnagel said in the same vein. Beta’s need for control was an equal-opportunity annoyance. Hally continued: “And I saw her about a week ago when she baby-sat Josh. After going to the movies in Bavary, I got home before Mom and Dad did, so I relieved her. Put Josh in the car and took her home.”
    I sighed. Hally seemed shook by all this, and I couldn’t blame him. I was shook, too. But I didn’t like that he wasn’t able to meet my eyes for more than a second or two. What was he hiding?
    “How did she act when you saw her?” I asked.
    Hally shrugged and pulled his T-shirt back on. “Same mean old bat as always, I suppose. She was still mad at Mom for siding with you about banning books. Momtold her that didn’t mean they couldn’t still get along, even if they disagreed. So I think that’s why Mom asked her to baby-sit Josh, maybe to patch up. Miz Harcher really seemed to like Josh; she’d play games with him, read him Mother Goose and Pooh Bear stories. I kind of thought she’d wished for a grandkid of her own.”
    Beta Harcher? Being nice to a child? I imagined Beta’s baby-sitting activities to include recanting of cartoons, a delicious serving of cold gruel (with a side order of guilt), a spirited game of Name That Heretic, and basics of book incineration. Kindness and stories that didn’t involve retribution for sins hadn’t occurred to me. Maybe there’d been a heart under that stony skin.
    “And nothing unusual happened when you took her home?” I pressed.
    Hally looked nervous again, running his tongue tip over his chapped lips. His jaw worked. “Well, yeah. But I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything. It was probably library business or something.” He glanced nervously toward the house. “I don’t want to get in trouble and I don’t want her in trouble.”
    I followed his eyes to the empty porch. Eula Mae had vanished into her inner sanctum to be Jocelyn Lushe and chronicle the escapades of her latest pair of star-crossed lovers.
    “Eula Mae?” I asked. “What do you mean?”
    “She was sitting on Beta’s porch when we pulled up. Waiting for her. Miz Harcher had left her porch light on and I could see Miz Quiff sitting up there. Miz Quiff looked madder’n hell. She was sitting in a porch chair, and she got up real slow from it when Miz Harcher got out of my car.” Hally paused. “Real slow. You know, like someone who’s so mad that they’ve got to movelike molasses to keep from knocking the tar out of someone?”
    “I know what you mean. So what happened then?”
    Hally scooped weeds from the ground and stuffed them in a bag. “Nothing. Miz Harcher said something like ‘Finally,’ kissed Josh goodnight, and told me to get on home. So I did.” Hally tied off the lawn bag with a green piece of wire. “But I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything.” He still didn’t look at me. If he’d been making a mock at sin, as Beta suggested, he wasn’t going to look me in the eye and fess up.
    “You don’t mind me asking, do you, Hally, where you were last night?”
    He did meet my eyes. “No, I don’t mind. I was out with a girl. Chelsea Hart. Didn’t get home until after midnight.” He smiled, and added, “Even with a later curfew for spring break, I missed it. Mom was mad.”
    “I see. Well, listen, I got to go. Tell your mother I’ll stop by soon.”
    Relief moved across his face like a shadow. “Okay, Jordy. You take care.”
    I walked away from my cousin, and away from my friend’s house, feeling as if even the people I knew and trusted weren’t being