and he tore out of the parking lot. I blinked at Reverend Adam Hufnagel. He smiled thinly at me. I don’t think he was pleased to see me. Adam Hufnagel was a tall, rangy man, thinner from his bout with cancer last year. He was a tough old bird and he’d beaten the disease. His hair was iron gray, the color that gives a man the look of resolve. Strong-featured, he looked more distinguished than handsome, the ideal father figure. I wondered if his wife Tamma thought of him that way. Brother Adam slipped on his smiling parson’s face for me. “Jordan!” He came forward, shaking my hand in the warm, intimate way that all clergy use. “Good to see you, son. How are you doing?” His voice, a rich-timbred instrument, oozed just the amount of concern a Southern gentleman would permit himself.
“Fine, Reverend, considering what all’s happened in the past couple of days. Do you have a minute to talk?” He inspected his watch. “Just for a few minutes. I have to meet with the ladies who are planning Vacation Bible School.” Ah. “Weren’t your wife, my cousin Janice, and Beta doing that?” He steered me toward a church side door. “Why, yes, they were. Horrible about Beta’s murder. Horrible.” “No one should die that way,” I agreed. “That’s why I’m trying to find out who killed her.” I felt his fingers on my arm stiffen for a moment, then relax.
We went down a short, tiled hallway, the walls covered with a rainbow of felt cutouts done by the Sunday school children. Crosses, trees of life, doves, hands grasping. The nursery school interpretation of religion. It seemed better than Beta’s version. Adam Hufnagel’s office was immaculate. Files were stacked neatly on his desk. Pencils and pens stood in holders, with not a single stray on the desk. An assortment of silver-framed photos ranged the credenza behind his comfortable leather chair. So much for vows of poverty. The pictures were nearly always of Hufnagels: Adam and Tamma vacationing in a sunny place, Adam and Tamma wearing T-shirts of the church’s soccer team, Adam and Tamma getting married, he looking more like her father than her husband. Adam gestured toward a seat. “When will the library reopen?” “Hopefully soon. Junebug makes that decision.” I paused. Adam Hufnagel was a little intimidating, but I hadn’t backed down over the book banning and I wasn’t about to back down now. I swallowed and said, “Is that what Matt was here to see you about? The library?”
“Sort of.” Adam smiled at me like he might at a child who’d asked if God really existed. “He wanted to know if he could use the church hall for his veterans’ meeting, since the library is temporarily closed. Of course I gave him permission, and he was very happy.” “Oh.” If I hadn’t kept eye contact with the good Reverend I might have believed it. Eyes betray us. Adam Hufnagel’s eyes darted down to my lap and back again as he spoke. He didn’t want to look at me. And when I thought of Matt Blalock and Adam Hufnagel, who’d been on opposite sides of the censorship battle, I couldn’t see Matt asking Adam for help. “Matt can be difficult, but these are veterans.” Adam shrugged, keeping his eyes steadily on me. “I thought perhaps letting Matt use the church would mend fences broken during our recent”-he fumbled for a word-“disagreements.” “Matt doesn’t strike me as a fence mender. He wasn’t exactly broken up over Beta Harcher’s death.” Adam raised palms in supplication, and it was a distinctly annoying gesture. It said: don’t ask me-I just work here. “Matt has many burdens to carry, Jordan. I hope I can minister to his needs. Now what did you want to see me about? Surely not to ask questions about Matt Blalock?” I licked my lips. I felt as nervous as the proverbial whore in church.
Grilling regular folks was one thing, but trying to worm information out of a man who was supposed to be above reproach made me uneasy. I swallowed down my unease and forged ahead. “I understand that Beta took your key to the library to get in.” “Apparently so.” Adam nodded.
“Tamma noticed it missing when the police called. Beta was here the afternoon before she died for a brief time. I don’t keep the office locked during church hours. It would have been easy for her to take.”
“Thou shalt not steal,” I intoned. “Seems she only observed commandments that were convenient to her.” “Jordan, let me be frank.”
He leaned forward over his spotless desk. “Beta Harcher was a committed member of this congregation.” Should’ve been committed, I thought, but held my tongue. “She didn’t have much of a life outside of church. Old maid, with no family left here in town. She practically ran this church for me.” He smiled but there was no feeling behind it.
“And that didn’t bother you? Tamma suggested to me that she tried to tell you what to do.” “I’m an ordained minister of the Southern Baptist Church, Jordan. I’m the one responsible for my flock, not Beta Harcher. She knew and understood that.” “She appointed herself custodian of other people’s morality quick enough, Adam.” Hell, he was on the board, wasn’t he? First names were a leveling field. I leaned forward, rudely putting my elbows on his desk. I meant to be rude.
“She was going to burn down the library. That’s the latest theory.
They found traces of gasoline on her hands. If she couldn’t ban some books, she’d burn all of them. Are you still so proud of her now, Adam?” He didn’t rattle. “No, of course not. That would have been wrong of her.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Seems to me that points the finger of blame more at you, Jordan. Quite possible you’d do anything to protect that library.” I shrugged. “Someone who doesn’t know me very well might think so.” I curled one leg up under myself and he glanced at his watch. I didn’t hurry. “Did the police tell you about the list she made?” They hadn’t. I told him about it and watched the color seep from his face. His blood traveled pretty fast for an older man. “Interesting, isn’t it, Reverend? You didn’t make the list.
She must not have been mad at you.” “You don’t know that the list is of people she had a bone with,” Adam answered. “I didn’t have any problems with Beta.” “Did your wife? She made the list. She’s not on the library board.” Neither were Hally or my mother or Matt, but I didn’t mention that. “You’re making a mountain out of a molehill.
Tamma and Beta got along fine. Tamma felt she ought to be in charge of certain church events as my wife. Beta disagreed. There was some conflict between them for a while, usually with Beta winning. Tamma does not usually have a confrontational personality.” “No, she doesn’t. Beta had the monopoly on that.” Adam Hufnagel raised an eyebrow at me. “They worked on their differences. I asked Tamma and Beta to serve together as chaperons at a youth group retreat over at Lake Travis at the beginning of March. They returned with their disagreements resolved, as friends.” He looked sternly at me. “I’m sure their shared love of Jesus brought them together.” “Must’ve,” I concurred politely. “And I have no idea why Beta would put Tamma’s name on this list. You’re judging Beta too harshly. Perhaps it was a prayer list. We should pray for our enemies.” I shook my head. “Maybe with me and some of the others who are on the list. But not your wife, right? You just said they were pals.” “I can’t help you. I don’t know the answer to why Beta did that.” He stood, trying to end the interview. “I must meet with my wife and Janice. We have a lot of planning to do for the Vacation Bible School.” “Just another minute, please,” I said, keeping my seat. His comment reminded me of something Tamma mentioned yesterday. “She said she’d also worked with Beta on the church rummage sale.” Adam smiled briefly as he sat back down.
“That was the first sign that their little battles were over. Beta volunteered for it, then just took it over entirely from Tamma. Tamma realized that it was important to Beta to feel busy, so she let her.”
“When was that sale?” I asked. Adam glanced at his calendar. “About two weeks ago. Beta, I’m afraid, didn’t do a very good job. She left many things undone that Tamma and I had to do at the last minute.”
“Like what?” He shrugged, impatient. “Sorting through contributions.
Pricing them. She’d made a start on some, but then it was as if she forgot to finish the rest.” That didn’t sound like Beta. If she was anything, she was thorough. She’d shown that in her war against the library. I thought hard. I hadn’t considered one important part of the formula that equalled death for Beta Harcher. Why had she died now, at that particular time? What had happened in her life that led to her death? I had only concentrated on her war against the library and me, but she might have had other mischief up her pilgrim’s sleeve. The church was her other main means of contact with her fellow human beings. Perhaps I needed to start looking for an answer there. Aside from her general involvement in the church, there was her involvement in the Vacation Bible School, the rummage sale, and the youth groups.
“Do you have a list of everyone who contributed to the rummage sale?”
Adam Hufnagel looked suspiciously at me. What was I-Herod hunting down innocents? “Why would you want that?” “I’m curious as to who donated to the church. Surely you keep a list of contributors.” “I do, but I don’t see that it’s any of your business.” “Look, Adam. You can play this the easy way or the rough way. Beta Harcher had an unusual amount of money in her banking account, enough to overflow most coffers. She hadn’t had that money long. It hasn’t been traced yet, so I don’t think she got it from stock options or winning the lottery. She was getting it from someone.” It took a moment for it to register with Adam. “Blackmail? Beta? That’s absurd.” The music of his voice was slightly off-key. “No more ridiculous than her trying to burn the library. I’m just curious about who she dealt with in the past two weeks. It wasn’t just the folks on the library board. It was people in this church.” Adam looked uncertain. I stood. “That’s okay. I can just take my story to Junebug. He doesn’t think I killed her. He’s just
