It would havebeen simple for Beta to take Adam’s key. So there’s that mystery solved.” She wore her conviction like a starchy, ill-fitting blouse. “Now will you let me be?”
“Adam’s key? I’m sure Junebug found that interesting. And I’m sure he asked you where you and Reverend Hufnagel were last night around ten or so.”
She kept the awkward smugness a tad longer. “Of course he did. He wanted to know when Beta could have taken that key. Adam saw her at the church yesterday afternoon around four. He now thinks she might have taken the library key from his office—he said he was talking to Lenny Mauder out in the assembly hall about expanding the parking lot and Beta could’ve gotten into his office then. I met Adam at the church around six for a meeting, we stayed until seven, then we went home, had dinner, and watched John Wayne on cable.
Rio Bravo.
We were in bed and asleep by ten.” She ignored the implicit suggestion that she or her husband could be a suspect. “That meeting at seven was for the Vacation Bible School group to start planning this summer’s sessions. It was odd that she didn’t show up for the meeting; she’d been adamant about guiding the church’s children along a path of rightousness.”
Whata horrible concept. Beta shaping young minds. The keen edge still adhered to Tamma’s voice and I wondered if she hadn’t cared much for Beta herself.
“Who else was there?” I asked.
“You sound like Chief Moncrief. Why all the questions?”
“Why not answer?” I countered. “I’m sure you don’t have any secrets.”
“Of course not.” Flustered, she fumbled in the box for a letter. “It’s not a secret at all. I’m just surprised you’re curious. The planning committee was me, Beta,and Janice Schneider. This year Janice and I are doing most of the teaching. Beta took on recruitment.”
And pity the parent who didn’t sign up Junior. “I know what a pain she was on the library board. Did she run you ragged on the Vacation Bible School stuff? Want the kids to light fires under their Curious Georges?”
“Of course not,” Tamma said quickly for the second time in a minute. “That’s mean of you, Jordy.”
I shrugged. “So what else can you tell me about her?”
“Nothing new.” Her voice sounded tired and I could tell she wanted to be rid of me. “She could be awfully judgmental at times, but that was her burden. She had a very strong sense of morals. She liked to remind people that there was a definite right and a definite wrong. She’d let them know when they’d failed and what they had to do to make amends. But people don’t always”—she paused, looking for words—“cotton to advice.”
“May I ask when you last saw Miz Harcher?” I asked, trying to get onto less philosophically slippery rocks.
“Yesterday afternoon, I guess around two. I knew she’d be upset after your little altercation in the library.” She glanced over at me. “So I stopped by her house, to see if she was feeling better. She was. She’d found strength in the Bible and was studying it.”
Studying it or writing down verses to go alongside names? I wondered.
“We talked for a while and then I left,” she continued.
“You didn’t see anyone else there, did you? Did she have any other visitors?”
Tamma Hufnagel finished her task and stood, balancing the box of letters so she wouldn’t drop it again. Shelooked me dead in the eye and there was nothing shy, afraid, or mousy about her now. The mask was set like old makeup. “Why, yes, she did. Bob Don Goertz stopped by as I was leaving and seemed rather upset. I gather there was some problem between them. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to fix Adam some lunch. Goodbye, Jordy.” She turned and walked into the ugly church.
I glanced down at the completed board, MAKING PEACE WITH DEATH . What a lovely invitation. The air now felt moist and hot, as the noontime sun began its drumbeat on the town. I sat in my
“Adam’s key? I’m sure Junebug found that interesting. And I’m sure he asked you where you and Reverend Hufnagel were last night around ten or so.”
She kept the awkward smugness a tad longer. “Of course he did. He wanted to know when Beta could have taken that key. Adam saw her at the church yesterday afternoon around four. He now thinks she might have taken the library key from his office—he said he was talking to Lenny Mauder out in the assembly hall about expanding the parking lot and Beta could’ve gotten into his office then. I met Adam at the church around six for a meeting, we stayed until seven, then we went home, had dinner, and watched John Wayne on cable.
Rio Bravo.
We were in bed and asleep by ten.” She ignored the implicit suggestion that she or her husband could be a suspect. “That meeting at seven was for the Vacation Bible School group to start planning this summer’s sessions. It was odd that she didn’t show up for the meeting; she’d been adamant about guiding the church’s children along a path of rightousness.”
Whata horrible concept. Beta shaping young minds. The keen edge still adhered to Tamma’s voice and I wondered if she hadn’t cared much for Beta herself.
“Who else was there?” I asked.
“You sound like Chief Moncrief. Why all the questions?”
“Why not answer?” I countered. “I’m sure you don’t have any secrets.”
“Of course not.” Flustered, she fumbled in the box for a letter. “It’s not a secret at all. I’m just surprised you’re curious. The planning committee was me, Beta,and Janice Schneider. This year Janice and I are doing most of the teaching. Beta took on recruitment.”
And pity the parent who didn’t sign up Junior. “I know what a pain she was on the library board. Did she run you ragged on the Vacation Bible School stuff? Want the kids to light fires under their Curious Georges?”
“Of course not,” Tamma said quickly for the second time in a minute. “That’s mean of you, Jordy.”
I shrugged. “So what else can you tell me about her?”
“Nothing new.” Her voice sounded tired and I could tell she wanted to be rid of me. “She could be awfully judgmental at times, but that was her burden. She had a very strong sense of morals. She liked to remind people that there was a definite right and a definite wrong. She’d let them know when they’d failed and what they had to do to make amends. But people don’t always”—she paused, looking for words—“cotton to advice.”
“May I ask when you last saw Miz Harcher?” I asked, trying to get onto less philosophically slippery rocks.
“Yesterday afternoon, I guess around two. I knew she’d be upset after your little altercation in the library.” She glanced over at me. “So I stopped by her house, to see if she was feeling better. She was. She’d found strength in the Bible and was studying it.”
Studying it or writing down verses to go alongside names? I wondered.
“We talked for a while and then I left,” she continued.
“You didn’t see anyone else there, did you? Did she have any other visitors?”
Tamma Hufnagel finished her task and stood, balancing the box of letters so she wouldn’t drop it again. Shelooked me dead in the eye and there was nothing shy, afraid, or mousy about her now. The mask was set like old makeup. “Why, yes, she did. Bob Don Goertz stopped by as I was leaving and seemed rather upset. I gather there was some problem between them. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to fix Adam some lunch. Goodbye, Jordy.” She turned and walked into the ugly church.
I glanced down at the completed board, MAKING PEACE WITH DEATH . What a lovely invitation. The air now felt moist and hot, as the noontime sun began its drumbeat on the town. I sat in my
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