Puddin called out from the kitchen, “Hey! How’d you do that?”
Myrtle sniffed. “I have all sorts of talents, Puddin. Fixing TVs just happens to be one of them.”
Puddin narrowed her eyes suspiciously as if fairly certain Myrtle’s skills with electronics weren’t usually something to write home about.
Myrtle watched a little television but didn’t find anything to keep her interest. She decided to go through her copy of The Importance of Being Earnest and mark it up for her book club talk next time. She reminded herself to keep the discussion on a more simplistic level, considering the apparent limitations of the group.
At some point, Myrtle dozed off. When she awoke, the kitchen was clean and the money she’d left on the table for Puddin was gone.
She’d just decided to watch her tape of Tomorrow’s Promise when she got a text message.
I’m getting purple belt tonight at six-thirty it read. It was, of course, from Elaine.
Myrtle smiled to herself. Then she frowned at the clock. Six-thirty was only fifteen minutes away. She definitely wanted to change clothes for dinner with Perkins so she put on a pair of black slacks and a dressy top. Then she took the puddings out of the refrigerator. Myrtle pulled the saran wrap back on one of the ramekins to peer at it. It was fairly chunky looking to Myrtle’s eye. Perhaps, she decided, it was because it was especially thick. But no one would want runny pudding. Thick was good. Satisfied, she covered the pudding back up and then packed up a tote bag and proceeded across the street.
Red opened the door, a wry expression on his face. “Just happened to be dropping by, Mama?”
“I had a culinary triumph and decided to share it with my family,” said Myrtle, putting her nose in the air and sailing past him into the house.
Elaine, looking slightly flushed, called out to her from the kitchen. “Myrtle! What a lovely surprise!”
Chapter Seventeen
“ISN’T IT?” SAID MYRTLE. She put down her tote bag and gave Jack a huge hug. He ran off to bring her a toy to show her. Lieutenant Perkins rose from the sofa to greet her and she gave him a hug. “So nice to see you again, Perkins!”
Red was still looking at the tote bag with distrust. “What’s this culinary triumph you were talking about?”
“Pudding. It’s absolutely delicious.”
“Is it? Have you tasted it, Mama? Because it seems to me that not sampling your own recipes is one of your failings.”
Perkins seemed to be concealing a smile.
Myrtle said breezily, “I didn’t have to taste it. I just gave it a visual inspection. It looked just fine and will be a perfect dessert for our dinner.”
Red glowered at her. “You’re not planning on staying for dinner?”
“Well, of course I am! Goodness, Red, you’re acting as if you and I never enjoy a meal together.”
Red gave Perkins an apologetic look.
“I’m delighted at the opportunity to visit with you, Mrs. Clover,” Perkins said promptly.
Myrtle beamed at him. “We’ll have a wonderful time, won’t we?”
Red said, “The problem, Mama, is that you’re here with an agenda.”
“An agenda? What a silly thing to say, Red. My agenda is simply to have a nice visit, see my darling grandson, and distribute puddings.”
“I think the agenda has more to do with the signs your gnomes are holding. I was hoping that the rainstorm the other night would have destroyed them, but no such luck,” said Red.
Myrtle said smugly, “That’s because I carefully put them in gallon-sized zipper bags.”
“Very ingenious,” said Perkins.
Myrtle smiled at him. “I thought so. And since we’re already on the topic—”
“Here it comes,” said Red with a sigh.
“I wondered if Miles is no longer considered a suspect. I suppose I should also ask about myself, since I believe I might have been under suspicion, too.”
“Mama, no one seriously thinks an octogenarian is drowning people in the lake,” said Red, rolling his eyes.
“Well, that’s certainly very shortsighted of them.”
Red said, “So now you’re trying to talk yourself into being a suspect?”
“I’m just saying that I could have done it. I didn’t, but I could have. I had no motive to kill Jax, of course, but that Eloise drove me up a wall. Besides, she was most unfair to Miles.”
“That’s the part that makes Miles a suspect,” pointed out Red.
“As if Miles could harm anybody or anything. If you look up the word ‘innocuous’ in the dictionary, it probably has a photo of Miles by the entry.”
Red muttered, “It sure won’t have a photo of the puddings you brought.”
Perkins seemed to be trying to cover up that smile again. Then he quickly said, “I don’t think anyone seriously considers Mr. Bradford a suspect, Mrs. Clover.”
Myrtle folded her hands in her lap and looked satisfied. “That’s good to hear. I might have another question or two.”
Red put his head in his hands.
“Stop being so dramatic, Red. Curiosity is a good thing. It’s supposed to slow cognitive decline. Anyway, I was wondering about Eloise’s untimely death. Have you narrowed down the time it happened?”
Red glanced over at Perkins as if asking how much they wanted to disclose. Perkins said carefully, “We think it might not have been very late in the evening. The water does obscure the time of death a little. But it probably wasn’t too much later after the victim had her encounter with Mr. Bradford.”
Myrtle sniffed. “It wasn’t much of an encounter, really. It was Eloise trying to be pushy and Miles firmly telling her things were over. That woman was really in a state of denial.”
Perkins said, “It does sound as if she was.”
“She thought she could have her cake and eat it, too. Having a relationship with two men at once . . . absurd!”
Perkins nodded. “I was hoping I could ask you a question in return, Mrs. Clover.”
But just then, Elaine called them to supper. Jack had already been apprehended by his mother and placed in a booster seat at the table. He grinned at Myrtle, showing off his baby teeth. He appeared to be eating something gelatinous and colorful that Myrtle fervently hoped would not be served to the adults at the table.
Fortunately, Elaine put a lasagna on the table just moments later, relieving Myrtle’s mind tremendously. She helped her plate and put some garlic bread on the side.
“It’s lucky Elaine made enough food for all of us,” muttered Red. Then he looked thoughtfully at his wife and mother.
Myrtle decided a distraction was in order before Red realized Elaine was in league with her. “Perkins, you mentioned you had a question for me.”
Perkins carefully put some lasagna on his plate. “You always do an amazing job investigating.”
Myrtle straightened in her chair, looking pleased. Red continued muttering, this time under his breath.
“I was wondering if you’ve uncovered anything interesting pertaining to the case,” continued Perkins smoothly.
Myrtle paused, her desire to show off warring with her instinct to keep her findings under wraps. She did so like to solve a case before her son did. She pasted a regretful look on her face and said, “I’m afraid everyone has not been forthcoming. They’re all very stingy with the information they give out. I’m coming up with nothing.”
Now Red was looking pleased. And Perkins was considering her thoughtfully. “That’s interesting,” Perkins said slowly. “And unusual, too. I know ordinarily people spill all kinds of gossip to you.”
“True.” Myrtle picked up her glass of sweet tea. “Folks in town do like to talk. But I suppose this time they’re wanting to just keep their thoughts to themselves for one reason or another.”
Fortunately for Myrtle, Jack decided to be charmingly distracting right then. He was blowing raspberries and grinning at them. The raspberry sounds were making the disgusting-looking substance
he was eating spray everywhere and Red hurried off to get a paper towel to clean him up.
The conversation turned to other topics then. Myrtle asked after Perkins’s mother, who was also a puzzle aficionado. “She’s taken up bridge, too,” said Perkins. “Do you play?”
“Not any longer,” said Myrtle.
Elaine chortled. “Myrtle beat everyone at bridge and no one wanted to play with her anymore.”
Perkins chuckled and Red added, “This has actually been a recurring theme throughout Mama’s long retirement. No one will play scrabble or canasta with her, either. She may even have been banned from chess.”
“I’m not good at chess.” Myrtle waved her hand dismissively.
“You may not think you are, but how many invitations have you gotten to play it lately? Even Miles won’t play games with you anymore.”
“We do puzzles together,” said Myrtle with a shrug.
“Sometimes it’s best to stick with non-competitive activities,” said Elaine.
Myrtle was doubtful of this philosophy but didn’t argue the point. She glanced around at everyone’s plates. “It sure looks like it’s time for pudding.”
Red was shaking his head before she’d even finished the sentence. “Can’t. I’m stuffed. I ate far too much pasta and garlic bread.”
Elaine quickly added, “I’d better put Jack down. Sorry, Myrtle. I’ll be sure to have some after lunch tomorrow. You were awfully sweet to bring it.”
Perkins cleared his throat. “I’d be pleased to have some, Mrs. Clover.”
Myrtle beamed again at him. “Excellent! I’ll have some, too. I always have enough room for pudding.” She said this with a sideways glance at Red who hastily got up and collected the dinner plates to put in the dishwasher.
Myrtle collected the puddings and put one in front of Perkins and one at her own place setting. “Bon appétit!”
Myrtle took a big bite of her pudding and Perkins took a somewhat more conservative bite as Red watched, smirking, from the kitchen.
Myrtle knit her brows as she swallowed down the pudding. “Hm. It’s quite chewy for a pudding, isn’t it? I think that’s what I like most about it. It’s not like those watery puddings out there.”
“It’s nice and thick,” said Perkins after he’d taken a large sip of water. “Chunky, as a matter of fact.”
“Yes, I think so, too.”
Perkins quickly finished his pudding like a man on a mission as Myrtle watched in amazement.
“Goodness, but you were hungry! Would you like some more?”
Red called out from the kitchen, “You can have mine, Perkins!”
Perkins said carefully, “That’s very generous of you, Red, but I can’t take your portion. Besides, it was very filling and I’m completely full now.”
Myrtle took another mouthful and swallowed it down with some difficulty. “Yes, it is, isn’t it? Very filling. I might be finished with mine, myself.”
Red took the pudding containers to wash out as Elaine came back into the room. “Well, Jack’s in his bed, although I’m not sure he’ll stay there.”
“Would you like some pudding?” asked Myrtle.
Elaine patted her tummy. “I’m still really stuffed, Myrtle, but thanks. I’ll save the treat for tomorrow. Would you like to say goodnight to Jack? He’s still awake in there, for sure.”
“That would be perfect. Then I’ll take my leave and let all of you continue with your evening.”
Red looked relieved. “Need me to escort you back home, Mama?”
“Certainly not! It’s directly across the street.”
“Yes, but it’s getting dark out there,” said Red.
Myrtle glared at him. “I know how to cross the street by myself. I don’t need an overgrown boy scout helping me. Besides, I have a cane.” She lifted it up threateningly at Red, who quickly backed off. Elaine and Perkins shared a smile with each other.
Myrtle walked back to Jack’s room where her grandson was definitely not sleeping but was instead looking at a book by the light of his nightlight. He was wearing dinosaur pajamas and grinned when he saw Myrtle.
“I have a hard time falling asleep sometimes, too,” said Myrtle, giving Jack a hug. “Want me to read the story to you?”
As it happened, the picture book was all about dinosaurs. Apparently, there had been more types of dinosaurs discovered since Myrtle had been reading dinosaur books to Red. She stumbled over most of the names, which seemed to have far too many consonants in them. Jack carefully corrected her with no judgment at all. By the time she’d finished the story, Jack was looking sleepy.
Myrtle tucked him in and walked back out into the living room. Red and Perkins had been talking but quickly became quiet when she entered the room. “Jack seems to be falling asleep now,” she told Elaine.
“Well, you must have worked some real magic on him. I was sure he was going to be up for a while,” she said.
“I think he became exhausted while correcting my pronunciation of dinosaur names. I never realized there were so many,” said Myrtle.
Red said, “Apparently the scientific community has been working very hard discovering new dinosaurs and naming them. I’m not sure why they couldn’t stick with easy names. Some of Jack’s dinosaur books are total tongue-twisters.”
They chatted for a couple of moments about dinosaurs, Red apparently trying to get back into his mother’s good graces after irritating her over the pudding and the offer to escort her home. Then Myrtle thanked Elaine for supper and took her leave.
Instead of walking back home, Myrtle headed toward Miles’s house. She spotted some quick movement from the bushes and was joined by Pasha.
“Clever girl! Were you keeping an eye out for me? I’d rather have you escort me than Red any day. Would you like to go visit Miles?”
Pasha smiled up at her, green eyes shining.
Miles looked less than delighted when he opened his door.
“Pasha and I have come to say hi,” said Myrtle.
Miles opened his door wide and Pasha strode in, making a swift lap around the house to ensure she accurately remembered where all the entrances and exits were. Then she settled down next to Myrtle on the sofa.
“How did everything go at Red’s?” asked Miles, a wary note in his voice.
“Oh, it was fine. Although it wasn’t extremely helpful. I did get an approximate time of death for Eloise, although we had something of an idea for that. Apparently, she died not too long after speaking with you.”
Miles sighed. “I had the feeling that was the case.”
“I did press them over whether you and I were suspects. Red acknowledged quite snarkily that I wasn’t much of a suspect.” Myrtle scowled, still feeling a sense of injustice over this.
“I suppose there aren’t very many octogenarian murderers.”
“Red is very limited in terms of his imagination. Anyway, there was a bit more hesitation over whether you’re still considered a suspect but Perkins acknowledged that you weren’t very high on his list of possibilities.”
Miles looked relieved. “That’s good. I wasn’t looking forward to the idea of spending my golden years in prison.”
Myrtle nodded. “You’d have a hard time fitting in. There probably isn’t much Faulkner in the prison libraries.” She paused. “They also tried pumping me for information, but I resisted. I told them that I hadn’t been able to find out anything—that people had been remarkably close-mouthed.”
“And they believed that? That people in Bradley hadn’t been gossiping?”
Myrtle shrugged. “They appeared to accept it. I’m a good actress.”
Miles asked, “And what happened with the dessert?” He had a watchful look on his face.
“Elaine had baked a lasagna and garlic bread and Red and Elaine had so many carbs they were too stuffed to try the pudding.”
Miles nodded in a knowing way. “And Perkins?”
Myrtle said, “Perkins loved the pudding. As did I. The only
problem was that the dessert was so thick and chunky that it was quite filling, too. But he and I ate most of ours.”
Miles said carefully, “The pudding was . . . chunky?”
“Yes, it was. Which was a vast improvement over the thin, watery puddings I so often see.”
Miles nodded. “Right. Well, moving forward, what are we doing next? Investigation-wise, I mean.”
“At this point, we’re going to need to try to ferret out more information. Maybe we can go out and about a bit more and see if we can run into some of our suspects around town. Now that I have my medical refund, I can afford a trip to Bo’s Diner.”
Miles sighed again. “The problem is that I don’t feel much like being out and about right now.”
Myrtle frowned at him. “What? You’re not feeling well?”
“It’s not that. It’s just that I have the terrible sensation that everyone is looking at me when I go out.”
“That certainly sounds like paranoia, Miles. Perhaps we should get you to your doctor.”
Miles shook his head. “It’s not paranoia when it’s true. You know what it’s like in Bradley. People talk. When I’m out running errands, people are either looking at me like I murdered Jax in a homicidal rage because he was seeing the woman I was dating, or else they’re looking at me with pity because Eloise cheated on me and is now dead.”
Myrtle said sternly, “Miles, if you’re going to continue living in a small town, you have to adopt the attitude that it doesn’t matter what people think.”
“It’s easier for you to say that. People don’t talk about you.”
Myrtle snorted. “People don’t talk about me? Are you out of your mind? That’s the main reason Red wants to hide me away in Greener Pastures Retirement Home. People have talked about me for decades. I’ll remind you that I have sign-holding gnomes in my front yard.”
“Well, that’s true.” But Miles still looked glum.
Myrtle tilted her head to one side thoughtfully and stroked Pasha. “You need some cheering up. I know. Was there anything from your childhood that made you cheer up? Something that you found comforting?”
Death of a Suitor Page 15
