I’d never wept in front of a woman. The last time I’d cried was when Sister broke the news to me over the phone that the doctors were pretty sure Mama had Alzheimer’s. I’d been alone with my grief, as most men prefer to be. I guess I could have driven down to the river that night, or into the woods, but I needed company. I needed Candace.
I brokenly told her what had happened at Bob Don’s. She steered me to the couch by the coffee table where we kept the daily newspapers. “You don’t have any proof this is true, Jordy,” she said softly. “Then why would he make up such a lie? What’s his reason for telling me this?”
“Okay,” she said softly. “Maybe he did love your mother. But maybe you’re not his, and he always wished that you were.” “Do I even look like Bob Don, Candace?” “No,” she admitted. “Your looks are your mother’s. But your daddy wasn’t a big man, and you are.” She studied my face, as though seeing it for the first time. “Listen, Jordy, looking at profiles isn’t going to resolve this. You need to find those letters he says Beta took.” “I know.” I thought of Beta’s living room. “Maybe the person who shot Shannon, when they were looking for whatever they were, maybe they found the letters and took them-” “Or maybe they’re still in her house,” Candace added. “Hidden there somewhere. Or maybe, someone else has them now and has destroyed them.
To keep Beta’s mischief from hurting anyone else.” “I have to find those letters,” I muttered to myself. “God, it’s even more important now to find who killed Beta.” I shook my head. “Beta, goddamn her! She was going to blackmail Bob Don and maybe even my mother. That must’ve been why she checked out that book on Alzheimer’s. Maybe she wanted to figure out how advanced Mama’s condition was and what she could get out of Mama to keep quiet. To fund that damned church of hers.”
“Listen, Jordy. I know you’re horribly upset right now. But you need to think straight. You need those letters, but they could also be evidence in a murder trial. You need to call Junebug, call your uncle Bid-” “No way,” I interrupted. “I don’t want anyone to know about this who doesn’t have to. For God’s sake, you think I want it going around Mirabeau that Mama might’ve had an affair? That I’m Bob Don’s bastard?
And tell Uncle Bid, no thanks, he already hates my guts.” “Maybe you know why now,” Candace said softly. I thought about it. The years of dislike Bid had shown me, the utter disinterest in his sister-in-law, the warning he’d given me in Mama’s kitchen to stay away from that lying Bob Don. Maybe Uncle Bid already knew about this. The only bright spot was that if Bob Don was telling the truth, I was no blood kin to Bidwell J. Poteet. There was a silver lining, after all. I put my face in my hands. “You know, I always prided myself on being strong. On not letting the rough stuff in life get me down. Right now I feel as weak as a hundred-year-old man.” “You are strong, Jordy, you are.” Candace rubbed my shoulder. “You’re the strongest man I know.
You gave up your career, your independence to come home to help your family. I couldn’t be so brave.” “My family,” I snorted. “I’m not even sure who my family is.” Hot anger flashed in me as I thought of my sacrifices. “Damn her, Candace! I gave up my life, my career, to take care of that woman, and what if she never bothered to tell me the truth about who I am? How could they do that to me?” I thought of my father, Lloyd Poteet. Of his love, his kindness to me, his pride in my accomplishments, his gentle hands on my shoulders, letting me know he was there for me. Had he known? If he had, I marveled at the depth of his unconditional love. Not every man would have so willingly raised another’s child as his own. I missed him fiercely. “Jordy, please, quit beating yourself up over this.” “And if it’s true, Beta Harcher knew?” I didn’t listen to Candace. “Let’s face it, that witch was my worst enemy. That she knew, and I didn’t! God, that makes me sick!”
“Jordy!” Candace snapped. “Shut up for a minute and listen to me. Quit wallowing in self-pity. It’s just not like you.” I shut up. “I’m going to tell you a bit of wisdom here, babe,” Candace brought her face close to mine and her voice fell to a whisper. “Do me the courtesy of not interrupting. It really doesn’t matter if you’re a Poteet or a Goertz or if you’re sired by a man from Mars. What matters is the kind of person that you are, you sweet little idiot. You’re a good person.
Now Lloyd Poteet raised you and loved you. Even if he didn’t make you, that doesn’t mean he’s not your daddy for all intents and purposes. It just doesn’t matter.” It did matter, but I stayed quiet till I sensed she was done speaking. I laughed bitterly. “Southerners are always so concerned about the families they come from. My friends up North used to tease me about being one of the Poteets of Mirabeau because I made such a big deal about my family. And now I don’t even know who I am anymore.” I sagged against the couch. “I feel like a nobody.” “You are somebody,” Candace whispered, and she kissed me. Her mouth didn’t taste of chocolate like Ruth Wills’s, but the kiss was far sweeter. I lost myself in her. I vaguely remembered my arm going around her shoulders, her fingers locking in my hair, passion and heat rising between us like close campfires. Her finger-tips traced delicious patterns on my face, my chest, my stomach. Wanting her burned away the old miasma of death that Beta Harcher had left on the library. And as we made love, shuddering together on that old couch, the deepest part of myself came through, telling me that Jordy Poteet was still alive.
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,”