Myrtle nodded. “It certainly does take some time.” She glanced at Miles. “We should let you get back to your beautiful yard, Sherry. Miles and I are going to take a walk and then we thought we’d go over to the nail salon and get manicures.”
Sherry beamed at Miles, who reddened. “That’s a wonderful idea. And Miles, kudos to you! Most men are so silly about manicures. I’m glad to hear you’re man enough to get your nails done. I have seen some men who are in dire need of a manicure or pedicure, let me tell you.”
As Myrtle and Miles walked away, Miles muttered, “I thought we’d agreed that I was going to be your driver, only.”
Myrtle said brightly, “I realized how good it would be for your reputation among the merry widows of Bradley if you got a manicure. You were always pegged as the sensitive sort because of your book club picks, but this will really cement your legacy.”
Miles sighed. “I’m pretty sure I don’t need any more attention from the merry widows than I’m already getting.”
“Just the same, get the manicure. It’s clearly not as rare as you think because the salon has it up on their ‘services’ menu.”
Miles said, “Your nails don’t look like they need another manicure. Are you just wanting to get a different color?”
“I’m getting a pedicure this time,” said Myrtle complacently. “That will give me plenty of time to speak with Nicole. And they take a bit of time so it’s good that you’re getting a manicure so you won’t be waiting too long.”
Miles gave her a sideways glance and said delicately, “I thought pedicures were fairly expensive things to get.”
Myrtle said, “Yes, they are. But guess what I got in the mail yesterday? An unexpected refund from my doctor’s office for overpayment. Isn’t that wonderful? That never happens.”
“And it’s burning a hole in your pocket?” Miles asked dryly.
“It certainly is. I’m unaccustomed to such riches. So I’ll spend a bit of it on the pedicure today.”
They walked around the block so they wouldn’t have to pass Erma’s house again and risk an encounter. Then Miles drove Myrtle over to the salon.
Chapter Sixteen
MILES WALKED INTO THE nail salon with some trepidation, but was relieved to see that it was a very businesslike, clean décor. “I thought it might look like the Beauty Box salon where you get your hair done,” he murmured.
“It’s not nearly as fussy or prissy,” agreed Myrtle.
Nicole came over to greet them, wearing a sparkly red top and black capris. “Good to see you two! What can I do for you?”
“I thought I’d get a pedicure today. I suppose I should match the color with my manicure or I might look quite wild. And I was able to talk Miles into a men’s manicure, if there’s someone available who can help him with that.”
“Absolutely,” said Nicole briskly. “Follow me.”
Myrtle grabbed the bottle of nail polish and retreated into the back of the salon as Miles sat down with a woman who immediately started soaking his hands.
Nicole put a liner into the pedicure tub and carefully adjusted the temperature of the water for Myrtle. Then she started chatting with her, which was just what Myrtle wanted.
“I heard about Eloise. It’s getting very creepy in town with a killer unleashed like this. Has Red made any progress?”
Myrtle snorted. “If he has, he hasn’t shared that information with me. I’m hoping to be able to attain some information from Lieutenant Perkins from the state police shortly. I’ve made a special pudding to bring to dinner when Red hosts him.”
“Are puddings hard to make?” Nicole expertly pulled out her clippers, files, and other tools.
“Goodness, no. But they do make a terrible mess.”
Nicole said, “So you think you might be able to find out how the cases are going from Perkins? I’d like to hear if there has been any progress on my dad’s death. I haven’t heard anything from law enforcement except for questions.”
“Perkins is a bit more forthcoming sometimes. We’ll see. After all, I’m an investigative reporter and I need to write my next piece on the case for Sloan soon.” Myrtle paused and then said, “Speaking of Sloan, I heard from Sherry that you and she hung out with him some last night. And that singing was involved.”
Nicole chuckled. “It was quite the evening. I have the feeling Sloan probably woke up with a headache this morning. He was really drowning his sorrows last night.”
“Well, he has quite the convoluted love life. I think he drowns his sorrows on a semi-regular basis.” Myrtle paused and then said, “I’m sure, working here, that you probably hear a lot of local gossip.”
Nicole grinned at her. “Do I get to be a source for one of your articles? If I am, I don’t think my clients will open up to me anymore. And that might be a blessing or a curse—I’m not sure which.”
Myrtle said, “Oh, not for an article. I can’t print rumors, of course. But I’d love to hear what the local gossips are saying, in general.”
Nicole said, “They’re saying that Bailey Pratt has lost his mind.”
“Really?”
“I guess not really, but he’s certainly very distracted. Some have said that he confessed to my dad’s murder.”
Myrtle pressed her lips together. She really didn’t want to confirm that information. “Is that so?”
“And that’s not the only thing. He clipped somebody’s car in the parking lot. It was bad enough to get his insurance company involved.”
“Mercy.”
Nicole continued, “And one of my ladies told me that she was behind him in the line at the Piggly Wiggly and he walked out without paying for his groceries. The poor check-out girl had to chase after him. He was apparently very embarrassed.”
“I’m sure anyone would be. I wonder what he must have on his mind to do such a thing.”
Nicole said sharply, “On his mind . . . or on his conscience? If he’s responsible for my dad’s death, I want him to face justice. I know people are saying that his confession didn’t add up, but maybe he did that on purpose to deflect attention from the fact that he really is the murderer.”
“You’re saying he acted as if he didn’t have any of the real facts about the murder when asked so that his ‘confession’ made it look as if he were actually innocent,” said Myrtle.
“Exactly. I’m not saying Bailey did it, but he’s sure acting really odd. Or guilty. He’s not the kind of person who ordinarily behaves like that, you know? He’s always been this really organized guy who manages a very successful career from everything I’ve always heard.”
It certainly was interesting. Considering that Bailey’s original alibi for Jax’s murder had been that he’d carefully been charging his devices after a business trip, it seemed like he wasn’t the sort of person to be behaving in a very absentminded fashion. He clearly did have something on his mind, but what was it?
The pedicure progressed very nicely and Nicole chatted about all sorts of other Bradley-related gossip. It appeared that there were many people in town with quite a few skeletons in their closets.
When she was done, Myrtle admired the matching color on her toes. Nicole put her in a pair of disposable flip-flops and took her over to a dryer to get her polish dried. Miles was already done with his manicure and seemed pleasantly surprised as he surveyed his hands.
“They do look better. Healthier,” he said thoughtfully.
“That’s what I was saying. It’s a nice service, isn’t it?”
Miles said, “Your toenails look good, too. Nice matching color. But you’re not going to be walking around in those foam flip-flops, are you?” He cast a look at the orthopedic shoes she’d come in with which looked a lot sturdier and more appropriate for an octogenarian to walk around in.
“No, I’m going to sit under the dryer until they’re totally dry. No worries.”
It took some time. Enough time that Miles started reading an old copy of Vogue. But then they were able to pay and
take their leave. Nicole gave them a cheery wave as they left.
“Back to your house?” asked Miles as he started up the car.
“Oh, I think so. Otherwise, Puddin might be goofing off and doing no cleaning whatsoever.”
“Even without a functioning TV?” asked Miles.
“Certainly. She might be dozing on the sofa. It’s always important to keep her on track.”
Sure enough, as soon as they walked into Myrtle’s house, they were confronted with the sight of Puddin holding a remote and looking completely confounded. She’d apparently been completely focused on the task at hand and jumped when they walked in the house.
Puddin leveled a furious look at Myrtle. “TV’s broke.”
Myrtle said, “I’m fully-aware of that. What’s the status of my kitchen?”
Miles peered over into the kitchen and winced.
“Never mind,” said Myrtle. “Apparently, it’s the same disaster area it was when I left.”
Puddin muttered, “Shoulda told me the TV was broke.”
“Absolutely not. There’s no reason for me to disclose any issues with any of my entertainment gadgets with the person who’s here to clean up my house.”
Puddin narrowed her eyes at Myrtle. “Maybe I like to play the TV in the background when I work.”
“The problem is, when the television is on in the background, you tend to drift back to it. The television acts like some sort of homing device.”
Puddin sighed. She walked over to the kitchen, squaring her shoulders. She called behind her in a catty voice, “What happened in here, anyway?”
Myrtle said offhandedly, “The dry ingredients exploded.”
Puddin turned to glance directly at Miles. A look passed between them that Myrtle couldn’t quite define. “Better get to it,” said Puddin, slouching into the room.
“And don’t use my cleaning supplies!”
Miles and Myrtle settled into the living room, Miles on the sofa and Myrtle in her armchair. Miles said, “Did you get any good information from Nicole? It sounds like she could have murdered Eloise, from what Sherry was saying. She was out last night, at any rate.”
Myrtle could tell that Puddin had paused in her cleaning. She supposed Miles and she were now functioning in the place of the television. “Pay no attention to us, Puddin.”
There were some grumblings from the kitchen as the sound of very lackadaisical cleaning started up again.
Myrtle said, “What I mostly gleaned from our conversation, was that Bailey Pratt seems to be under quite a bit of duress.”
“That was already apparent, though, wasn’t it? He confessed to a crime that he seemed not to have committed. It’s not the most rational thing to have done.”
The cleaning sounds from the kitchen stopped again.
“Puddin!” hollered Myrtle, making Miles jump.
Puddin’s pale face peered sourly around the corner of the kitchen door. “I got a right to hear stuff like that, Miz Myrtle.”
“But it doesn’t have anything to do with you. You’re just looking for gossip that you can share with your cousin, Bitsy.”
Puddin’s features darkened. “That Bitsy always has better gossip.” She wandered fully into the living room.
“Well, you’re not going to one-up Bitsy with anything that we’re talking about. We’re having a private conversation. A private conversation that Miles and I are now going to conduct in the backyard.” Myrtle stood up.
Puddin tilted her head to one side. “I might have some gossip, too.”
“I’m assuming any gossip you have comes from Bitsy,” said Myrtle.
This insinuation irritated Puddin. “I hear stuff, too!” she said furiously.
Miles cleared his throat. “What exactly did you hear?”
Puddin gave Myrtle a triumphant look at being asked the question. Then she lowered her voice to make her gossip sound more ominous. “That guy from the theater? You know him?”
“You mean Allen, I suppose?” said Myrtle stiffly.
“Yeah, that’s him. Bitsy says—I mean, I heard—that he slashed a hole in that dead man’s tire.”
Myrtle pursed her lips. “Yes, I’d heard the same thing. But it was just conjecture on Jax’s part. He didn’t actually know the identity of the person who’d committed the vandalism.”
Puddin screwed her face up as she tried to digest what Myrtle had said. “Keep tellin’ you to speak English.”
Miles helpfully interpreted. “Jax, the dead man, was just guessing that Allen had slashed his tires. He didn’t actually know that.”
Puddin suddenly looked smug, realizing she knew something they didn’t. “But Bitsy cleans across the street from Jax. She saw Allen do it.”
Myrtle and Miles exchanged a glance. “And Bitsy’s sure of that?” asked Myrtle.
Puddin gave her a scornful look. “Course she is. Saw him right as she was comin’ out of the house to get in her car. He had a box cutter out and was slashin’ at the tires somethin’ fierce.”
“I guess he was unhappy with Jax,” said Myrtle mildly.
Puddin said, “Mad enough to kill him, maybe.”
“All right. Now enough of all that. I need you to go ahead and finish up in that disaster of a kitchen. Otherwise, I’ll end up having somebody like Tippy Chambers drop by, for sure, just to embarrass me.”
While Puddin reluctantly addressed the kitchen, Myrtle and Miles moved outdoors to talk. They walked gingerly down to the lake and sat on Myrtle’s dock to watch the water.
“So, you said Bailey Pratt was falling apart,” said Miles, trying to remember what the thread of conversation had been before Puddin had totally hijacked it.
“Nicole did. She hears things at the salon like Bitsy and Puddin hear things when they’re cleaning. Anyway, he has apparently been very absentminded. Nicole said he clipped a car in a parking lot. And he walked out of the Piggly Wiggly without paying for his groceries.”
Miles frowned. “And this was Bailey?”
“Yes. That’s the surprising thing. He always seemed to have his life together. What do you supposed caused it all?”
Miles thought about this for a few moments as a sailboat went by on the lake. “I suppose it could have to do with Marigold. From what I understand, he’s completely devoted to her.”
“And Marigold doesn’t seem half as devoted back,” said Myrtle. “In fact, I think Marigold has another paramour. Maybe Bailey is so focused on how to win Marigold back that he’s distracted in every other way.”
“Confessing to murder seems like rather a stretch, though,” observed Miles.
“Yes. But Nicole wondered if his confession was a cover of some sort.”
“A cover?” asked Miles.
“That’s right. She thought Bailey might have killed Jax and Eloise and then given a ridiculous confession to distract the police from the fact he actually killed them. That Bailey was making it look like he hadn’t killed them when he had.”
Miles said, “That seems like a very convoluted plan and one that could easily backfire. Besides, I thought we’d just established that Bailey was so distracted that he was making all sorts of mistakes. It seems strange that he would have chosen that particular approach to deflect attention from himself.”
Myrtle shrugged. “It wasn’t my theory, it was Nicole’s.”
Miles looked at his watch. “What’s next? You’ve spoken with everyone, haven’t you?”
“I have. So now we should watch Tomorrow’s Promise. Then I’ll wait for Elaine to provide her code word for us to come over and try to get some information from Perkins.”
Miles raised his hands as if warding off an attack. “Oh, no. I’m not part of your Great Supper Caper. I’m staying put at home tonight and eating a tomato sandwich with cheese.”
“What? I thought you and I were going to drop in over there together.”
“Nope,” said Miles soundly. “You and your pudding and your gate-crashing activities are all you.”
&nb
sp; “Well, pooh,” said Myrtle.
“What are you trying to find out from Perkins, anyway? It sounds as if we might be further ahead than the police as it is?”
Myrtle said, “How do you figure that?”
“We have the information from Puddin, courtesy of Bitsy, that Allen was responsible for Jax’s slashed tires. That sounds like something the police don’t know about.”
Myrtle shrugged. “The way Bitsy talks, it’s entirely possible that the whole town, including the police, know all about it. Anyway, I want to find out more about Eloise’s death. And I feel as if I have the responsibility to make sure that neither you nor I are considered as suspects. I’d like the time of her death, for instance. Maybe you and I were otherwise occupied during that time.”
Miles said, “I hardly think Pasha is a good alibi for you. And I was completely alone.”
Myrtle gave him a stern look. “You really need to stop saying that. It makes you sound very guilty.”
“I find myself feeling guilty, even though I had nothing to do with Eloise’s death. It seems as though I should have been protecting her.”
Myrtle quirked an eyebrow. “Being her knight in shining armor? How gallant of you, Miles. However, the uncomfortable truth remains the same—Eloise’s death was the fault of Eloise. You had nothing to do with it and had no responsibility for her since the two of you weren’t a couple any longer.”
“I suppose that’s true,” said Miles, perking up a little.
“I always speak the truth,” said Myrtle airily. “You know that.”
Miles said, “If we’re just in waiting mode now, I might as well go home and take a nap. I’m feeling pretty worn out from the last week.”
“All right. I’ll let you know if I get a signal from Elaine. It’s about the right time in the investigation for Red to want to hash things out with Perkins, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed that it’s tonight.”
After Miles went home, Myrtle went into her house, made sure Puddin was still working on the kitchen disaster, and then proceeded to “fix” her television.
Death of a Suitor Page 14
