Hushed Up

by Elizabeth Spann Craig

  Myrtle stood and said, “I do hope you can get some rest soon. Lack of sleep definitely never helps. My friend Miles has been exhausted for days and he’s been most out of whack.”

  “Thanks, Miss Myrtle,” said Annie with a smile.

  Myrtle found her way back downstairs where the funeral reception was even more cacophonous. The drinking was certainly loosening everyone up. She scowled at a few of the loudest offenders and they had the decency to look abashed. One was a former student of hers and he practically sank beneath a table when she leveled her glare at him.

  But Miles was nowhere to be seen. Myrtle knew he hadn’t found Annie, so what on earth could be keeping him?

  She walked outside on the deck where there were several revelers and an entire bottle of wine. Miles was curled up in a deck chair, dead asleep despite the volume of the people next to him.

  Myrtle strode up and impatiently grabbed Miles by the shoulder. “Miles!” she hissed.

  He sleepily opened his eyes and then glanced around, looking alarmed. He sat abruptly up, blinking furiously to clear the sleep away.

  “I must still be exhausted,” he muttered.

  “Considering you fell deeply asleep at what’s turning out to be a bacchanalian event, I’d agree with you,” said Myrtle tartly. “Let’s get out of here. Things are out of control.”

  “Do you think I could get a Coke here?” asked Miles.

  “I’m sure they must have them as mixers for alcoholic beverages. Although I’m not sure I want you to drive again,” said Myrtle.

  “Oh, I’m awake now,” said Miles dryly. “Waking up in that manner made me fully alert in seconds. But I’d like to ward off another nap attack and I believe you mentioned we’d be heading over to the public library. A Coke might be in order.” He glanced across the crowded, lively living room. “I’ll brave the bar to find one.”

  “I’ll meet you by the car,” said Myrtle briskly.

  Back in the car, Miles said, “Did you find Annie?”

  “I did. She was upstairs in Martin’s library.”

  Miles’s eyes grew wide. “A library? Martin?”

  “I was surprised, too, but then I remembered the fact that my friend Carolyn had been a good influence as both his neighbor and his middle school librarian. I’ll admit many of his books looked as if they were there for show, but there were quite a few well-thumbed paperbacks, as well.”

  Miles asked, “What did you find out from Annie? Anything on her brother? I find it very difficult to believe he could purchase a lake house like that by hawking insurance in a small town.”

  “No, we really didn’t talk about Martin much, although I sense he’s not Annie’s most-favorite person. We spoke more about Tallulah,” said Myrtle.

  Miles headed to downtown Bradley. “Is that stemming from the ‘Conversation that Wasn’t’ at the funeral today?”

  “Exactly. She clearly wanted to speak with Red. Red was even more clearly tied up with the annoying woman worried about truancy. And Tallulah was very nervous. She’s hiding something and I figure it might be a guilty conscience.”

  “Over Yard of the Month?” Miles rolled his eyes.

  “No, over something far more important to Tallulah. Annie told me her mother owned that large, wooded lot behind both her house and Tallulah’s. Apparently, she’d been talking to developers for years, but never received a good offer. Until lately.”

  Miles raised his eyebrows. “I’m guessing Tallulah wasn’t happy about having a house behind hers.”

  “Apparently, the developer was going to divide it into two lots. There was to be a two-story house directly behind Tallulah’s and she was worried about privacy and so forth.”

  Miles said, “And Tallulah decided to remove her problem by removing Lillian?”

  “It sounds a bit unplanned to me. After all, Tallulah couldn’t count on the fact Martin and Annie wouldn’t simply sell the property after their mother was gone. But Tallulah could have gone over to speak with Lillian, had an argument, and killed her out of anger,” said Myrtle.

  “And now she wants to confess to Red. The guilt is killing her?” asked Miles.

  Myrtle shrugged. “Maybe she’s had to work up the courage to confess.”

  Miles pulled up in front of the library. “I should have brought my library book with me.” He looked gloomily at the building. “It will be overdue tomorrow.”

  “Renew it.” Myrtle carefully swung out of Miles’s car and started thumping with her cane as she walked up the library steps.

  Miles hurried to keep up. “I’ve already renewed it. Twice.”

  “Well then, it mustn’t be very good if it’s taking you that long to read the thing. Pick something else out while we’re in here.”

  Miles said slowly, “But then they’ll see I have a book that’s about to be overdue. It looks greedy for me to take out another book when I have a book at home I haven’t finished.”

  “Don’t be so fretful, Miles! Clearly, it’s a subpar, very inadequate book. We’ve had this conversation before. You worry too much about what others think of you. Besides, Carolyn isn’t the sort to pass judgement on a book on the brink of being overdue. Ask her for a recommendation. And do come on.”

  The library was one of Myrtle’s favorite places in town. It had a delightful reading nook in front of a fireplace. The selection of books was well-curated. And it was a good place to speak with librarians who knew things.

  Carolyn Segers was just wrapping up with a patron and greeted Myrtle and Miles. “Perfect timing! It’s finally quiet here. How have you been?” She sparkled with a twinkly smile and a pink blouse with beaded flowers, cheerful sequined dangling earrings, and a cute pair of multicolored flats.

  Myrtle beamed at her. “Oh, just fine. And I’m glad it’s quiet here because Miles and I have a question for you.”

  Miles turned red and started stammering.

  Myrtle gave him a reproving look. “I really meant we had a question about Martin, Miles. But since you’ve clearly leapt to conclusions, why don’t you ask Carolyn for a book recommendation?” She turned to Carolyn and said, “Miles is rather anxious because he’s about to have an overdue book. The book hasn’t been engaging, though, and he wondered if you had a good recommendation.”

  Miles quickly added, “And I’m bringing the overdue book tomorrow to return it. And pay the fine.”

  “Which will be all of a few cents.” Myrtle rolled her eyes.

  Carolyn said, “Don’t worry, you’re not the only one with overdue books! What kinds of books do you like reading?”

  Myrtle said, “I think the problem is that he’s attracted to really boring books and then he runs into trouble finishing them. Maybe he needs the kind of book he usually doesn’t read and doesn’t like.”

  Miles looked at Myrtle coldly. “Or maybe a really riveting book that is something I would read.”

  “What do you usually enjoy?” asked Carolyn.

  “World War II nonfiction,” said Miles. “But nothing too dry.”

  “Would you be open to reading some good World War II fiction?” she asked, tilting her head thoughtfully.

  Miles looked a bit startled, as if he somehow hadn’t realized there might be such a thing. “I’d could try.”

  “And if it’s a bit gritty from time to time is that all right?” asked Carolyn.

  Miles nodded. “It’s war, after all.”

  They followed Carolyn into the stacks and she pulled out The Boat Runner by Devin Murphy. “See what you think,” she said.

  Miles looked a lot more relaxed now. “Thanks,” he said with a smile.

  Myrtle said, “I actually had a question for you, Carolyn. I’m sure you’ve heard about poor Lillian’s death. Actually, you might even have been at the funeral reception for a little while, but it was so crowded it would have been easy to miss you.”

  Carolyn shook her head
. “I sure did hear about Lillian. Such an awful thing. I couldn’t make the funeral or reception because I was working.”

  “I know you used to be next-door neighbors up until fairly recently. I was wondering if she might have been a difficult person to be neighbors with,” said Myrtle.

  Carolyn said, “Oh, she wasn’t too bad. She did such a wonderful job with her yard and it always looked lovely. And I was very fond of her children. Martin was a great reader.”

  Myrtle said, “Why do I have the feeling that he was a great reader because of you? Lillian didn’t strike me as much of a reader.”

  “Maybe I helped a little. He’d always come knocking on my door when he was a little guy and would go through all the children’s books I’d have out. Then he’d solemnly borrow one and take it for a couple of days and trade it out for something else.”

  Miles frowned. “This is Martin Johnson, right?”

  Carolyn said, “It might sound a little surprising, but it’s true. And Lillian always had a soft spot for Martin.”

  “Not so much for Annie, though?” asked Myrtle.

  Carolyn looked a little sad. “Unfortunately, I think they had something of a more complicated relationship. Lillian could be very stern and not only with her daughter. I also overheard Lillian being rather rough on her employee when she’d come over.”

  “Sounds likely,” said Miles.

  “Was Martin any different as he grew older?” asked Miles. “He somehow doesn’t seem the bookish, sensitive sort anymore.”

  Carolyn said, “He has a pretty grandiose lifestyle now, hasn’t he? No, I didn’t see any signs when he was younger that he’d turn out quite as he has. He did run with a rough crowd in middle school, though. I never heard of his getting into any trouble, though, even though the other boys did. I think Lillian kept on top of both of the kids.”

  Myrtle asked, “And how about Tallulah? What do you know about her?”

  Carolyn considered this before diplomatically answering, “She’s apparently quite an excellent golfer. At least, that’s what I hear. And she did keep a nice yard.”

  Myrtle said, “We’ve heard she and Lillian had a disagreement recently.”

  Carolyn frowned and said, “I don’t really know about any argument, but I can only guess it had to do with the land sale Lillian was planning. She told me about it one day when I saw her in town. She said she’d had quite a good offer from a developer and had been trying to sell that parcel of land for ages. When she was telling me about it, though, I couldn’t help but think Tallulah couldn’t have been too happy about it. After all, some of that land was directly behind her house.”

  There were suddenly a lot of chipper, small voices and Carolyn said, “Oh, we’d better get your book checked out. Storytime just let out and soon they’ll all be with their mamas at the circulation desk.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Afew minutes later , Myrtle and Miles were walking back down the library steps to his car.

  Miles pulled carefully out of the parking spot. “I’m not sure we really learned anything new, did we?”

  “We learned there are good World War II novels out there as long as you’re willing to read something that might occasionally be gritty,” said Myrtle.

  “Aside from that, though? I guess we had more confirmation about Lillian and Tallulah’s disagreement.”

  Myrtle said, “And don’t forget, some more insight into Martin’s background and character. I wanted to know more about what makes Martin, Martin.”

  “And you succeeded in that?” asked Miles in a dubious voice.

  “I think so. I think he’s a lot smarter than we realize. After all, he’s been a reader most of his life. It might suit him to play the good old boy when he’s trying to sell insurance, but I have to wonder if he’s just pulling the wool over our eyes altogether,” said Myrtle.

  Miles gave Myrtle a sidelong glance. “I’m hoping you’re feeling like a break. It’s been a very long day already, considering we were up early. I was thinking about going home. I could read my new book.”

  Myrtle said, “That’s fine, only because I need to write up my coverage of Lillian’s funeral and reception for the paper. Perhaps I should check in with Wanda, too, and see if she has any other information for me.”

  Miles pulled into Myrtle’s driveway and stopped the car. “How do you plan on doing that? You pretty much have to drive to check in with her. And she doesn’t have a phone.”

  “She does have a phone. The phone Sloan gave her.”

  Miles said, “But she hardly even charges it because Crazy Dan doesn’t pay the electric bill.”

  “Maybe I’ll be lucky this time. After all, you slipped her some money. Maybe she paid her bill.”

  Miles looked pleased. “So that’s it for today? We’ll go our separate ways and meet up tomorrow morning? Hopefully not at 3 a.m.?”

  Myrtle said, “No, let’s go out for supper. I want to hash things out some more and I do better when talking it through with my loyal sidekick than with Pasha.”

  Myrtle’s loyal sidekick made a face. “Can we at least make it something of an early night?”

  “If you’d like to. Although I must say I think it’s counterproductive to do so, considering how early you end up getting up.” Myrtle opened her door and grabbed her cane. “Just call me later when you’re ready to head out.”

  Myrtle wrote her story of the funeral quickly, carefully putting in all the details. She emailed the article to Sloan and called Wanda on the phone.

  The phone rang several times, which Myrtle thought was a promising sign. Surely, the phone wouldn’t ring if it wasn’t charged. She smiled as she heard a gritty voice and then frowned again. It appeared to be Wanda’s voice mail.

  “Ain’t here. Leave message,” it gruffly instructed.

  At the tone, Myrtle said, “Wanda, it’s Myrtle. Please call when you get this message. I’d like to check in with you.” She hung up and scowled at her phone. When it instantly started ringing, she jumped.

  “Wanda?” she asked.

  There was a pause and then a chuckle. “I didn’t realize Wanda chatted on the phone.”

  Myrtle smiled as she heard her daughter-in-law’s voice. Her smile grew when she heard Jack’s in the background, making truck noises. “How is the smartest, best little boy in the world today?”

  “Jack is having a big day,” said Elaine with a laugh.

  “That means you’re having a big day, too.”

  “Exactly.” Elaine paused. “I know you’re busy over there, but could I ask you a favor?”

  “Yes, I’ll keep him,” said Myrtle promptly. “I bought him a toy ambulance the other day and I’ve been dying to give it to him.”

  Elaine said, “Oh, sorry! I meant a different favor. Although you can definitely keep Jack if you’d like to for a few minutes while I run a couple of errands.”

  “Perfect! He and I can play trucks together,” said Myrtle complacently.

  “Great! That will let me run to the post office and the grocery store. Do you need anything from either place?” asked Elaine solicitously.

  “Not a thing,” said Myrtle.

  “All right then.” She paused again. “And this favor of mine. May I run it by?”

  Myrtle raised her eyebrows. A favor to drop off? Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Naturally. What is the favor, though?”

  “I don’t think I’ve mentioned it to you, although I’ve spoken with Sloan about it.” Elaine’s voice grew bubbly and Myrtle winced. She knew what was coming, then.

  “I think Sloan might have said something to me about it, now that I think about it. Something to do with literature?” asked Myrtle.

  “Yes! I’ve been writing poetry and short stories. Oh Myrtle, it’s been so much fun! And it’s a cheap hobby that only requires a pencil and paper. I can do it while Jack is playing with his trucks. It’s been the
best thing ever.”

  Myrtle’s heart sank. Elaine really seemed to have become quickly invested in this one.

  “Of course you can run it by. You want me to edit it for you?” Myrtle crossed her fingers. It would be much easier to be merely looking for grammar and punctuation errors and not at whatever horribly flawed content Elaine brought to her.

  “Well, that too, but mostly I want to know what you think. You’re the one who knows English inside and out. You’re the one who taught great works of literature through the years. You can quote all the top authors and poets. I want your opinion on what I’ve written.

  Myrtle grimaced. She made her voice as pleasant as possible as she said, “I’d be honored to take a look, Elaine.”

  “Jack and I will be right over then! I’ll just throw a few things in a bag for him.” Elaine sounded breathless in her happiness and Myrtle wretchedly hung up the phone. It was easier when Elaine’s horrid hobbies were things that could be thrown in a closet like knitting or photography or sculpting. Much harder when one had to critique something.

  To distract herself from her pending doom, Myrtle pulled out chocolate chip cookies and made some lemonade from a mix. Then she opened her coat closet and got out the toy ambulance she’d gotten at the consignment shop. It was nearly as big as Jack and in perfect condition . . . aside from the fact that the siren appeared to no longer be working.

  When the doorbell rang, Myrtle squared her shoulders and opened the front door. Jack’s little face beamed up at her and she leaned over to give him a big hug. “Jack! How’s the best boy ever?”

  Elaine was right behind him, bearing a canvas bag full of snacks and toys. She also held a folder that likely carried her scribblings. She smiled at Myrtle. “Thanks so much for this. I know you have a lot going on right now with Lillian’s death.”

  “It’s no bother to me a bit,” lied Myrtle. “I’ll try to have feedback ready for you before long.”

  Elaine said, “And be sure not to sugar-coat it! Really. I want real feedback so I can improve. If it’s awful, tell me it’s awful.” But her eyes were shining in a way that indicated Elaine felt her writing was actually rather good and not awful in the slightest.