“Is it about your campaign? I have to admit I did a little informal polling and there’s quite a bit of local support for you as a candidate. I think you might be a shoo-in.” Bonner grinned at her.
Myrtle didn’t look surprised. “Well, that’s not too surprising. After all, I taught many of them. It’s not as if no one knows who I am. However, after careful consideration, I have decided to drop out of the race.”
Bonner’s eyes bugged out. He clearly came from the tradition of never dropping out of anything, especially if he had any kind of support. “Dropping out? Why on earth for? You’re not having any health issues, I hope.”
Myrtle shook her head impatiently. “Nothing like that. It’s just that I had a good conversation with Tippy Chambers and she’s decided to run for the council seat. I’m throwing all my support behind her. Besides, she’s currently the only candidate.”
Bonner’s eyebrows flew up.
“The only candidate, Miss Myrtle? Why, I thought Erma Sherman was in the race.”
Myrtle shook her head sadly, as if very upset about Erma. “I’m afraid not. You might have heard about the incident last night. Were you out and about last night?”
“I most certainly was not out and about last night. I do have one excellent habit that you helped instill in me in my formative years, Miss Myrtle.”
Myrtle tilted her head. “What’s that?”
“A love of reading. The only thing is that reading at night makes me very, very drowsy. Sometimes I’ll drop off in the middle of reading a book and have to re-read a page or two.”
“So you wouldn’t have heard then,” said Myrtle.
“Heard what?”
“That Preston Cook was murdered last night . . . in Erma’s yard, actually.”
Bonner’s eyes bugged out. “You’re kidding me.”
Myrtle sniffed. “I don’t joke around about violent death.”
“Why . . . what on earth is going on? As far as I’m aware, Erma and Preston didn’t even know each other.” He frowned and looked as if he were trying and failing to connect the dots.
Myrtle stepped in to try and help. “Well, Erma seemed to think it had something to do with her running for the council and that’s apparently why she’s dropped out. But I believe it might have more to do with the remarks Erma was making at Royce’s funeral. You were there, weren’t you?”
Bonner wrinkled his brow as if trying in earnest to fish this elusive information from his brain. “I was at the funeral. But for some reason, I can’t really seem to recall any remarks from Erma. Although she might have mentioned that she’d been suffering some stomach upset.”
“She also mentioned that she had important information from the night Royce was killed,” said Myrtle.
“Why would she say something like that?” asked Bonner slowly.
“It’s typical Erma behavior. She does like the limelight, even if it means outshining the deceased at a funeral,” said Myrtle with a sigh. “Still, it doesn’t mean she deserved to die because of it.”
“Erma died, too?”
“No, no. But I’m wondering if the reason Preston was in her yard in the middle of the night was because he was trying to get rid of Erma before she disclosed whatever it was that she knew. How well did you know Preston?” asked Myrtle.
Bonner shook his head. “Not very well at all. No, ma’am. He worked on my car from time to time and we engaged in polite small-talk, but that’s about it. I’d hate to think that the man was a killer, though. He sure didn’t seem to fit the profile. Now it sounds as if I’m going to have to find a new place to repair my car when it goes on the blink.”
He cast a concerned eye out the front of the town hall building to the BMW sedan.
“And nothing has occurred to you as to what might have happened with Royce?”
Bonner said, “Absolutely not. Any talk of some sort of enmity or professional rivalry between us was completely overblown. You can ask Jenny—I’ve been over there a few times since Royce died to try and help her out. Royce and I were golfing buddies. We’d known each other since forever. Sure, Royce was trying to get under my skin a little for running, but that doesn’t mean I’d want to kill him.” He paused. “I do have to say that it’s odd that Preston was discovered in Erma’s yard. You know, Erma took the brunt of Royce’s heckling at the debate.”
Myrtle quirked a brow. “You think Erma might have killed Royce and then Preston?”
“Well, she could have, couldn’t she? I’m not saying there was anything deliberate about Royce’s death, mind you. But she could have really had her feelings hurt during the debate because Royce was being rather ruthless. Maybe Preston found out about it and went over to Erma’s to try and blackmail her or something. Then, instead of paying him, she killed him.”
Myrtle considered this. As appealing as the prospect was for Erma to be hauled off to prison, the reality was that Erma was really quite innocuous. She simply didn’t have it in her to commit two heinous murders.
She shook her head. “I followed you on that, Bonner, but I just don’t see it. No, I think something else is going on. Any other observations?”
“Hm. I suppose I did see Scotty Rollins speaking with Preston at the funeral. Maybe he killed his father in a fit of pique at not being helped financially and Preston knew he’d done it. Then Scotty had to kill him.”
Myrtle nodded slowly. “I see. Okay, well, that’s an interesting theory. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Bonner looked as happy as he did when she’d given him a good grade on an essay back in high school.
Tippy finally came out of the town clerk office and smiled as she saw Bonner there. Bonner strode up to her holding out his hand.
“Tippy, Myrtle gave me the news and I’m just as pleased as punch! Welcome aboard.”
Tippy shook his hand in her businesslike grip and then said wryly, “Myrtle’s put the cart a bit before the horse, although it’s true that I have my packet. But I’m a long way from being elected.”
Bonner whipped a pen out of his pocket and said, “May I, Tippy?”
Tippy handed him her packet and he signed off on her candidacy. “Miss Myrtle?” he asked, proffering the packet to her.
Myrtle scribbled out her name. “Tippy, you’re practically halfway done. Head over to Bo’s Diner and you can finish it off and turn it back in.”
“I was going to take you back home so Miles didn’t have to worry about it,” said Tippy staunchly.
“Don’t be silly—I can walk home myself. You get your paperwork completed and we’ll all feel a lot better.”
Myrtle said goodbye and watched as Tippy headed out the door. Myrtle paused because she saw someone on the way in . . . someone she wanted to speak to. It was Polly Switzer, wearing a smile when she spotted Myrtle.
Polly was on the town council and could be counted on to give an accurate picture of what might be going on there.
“Myrtle!” said Polly. “How are you doing? Have you tied up that election yet? I’m looking forward to having another grownup on the council.”
“Yes, I’d noticed you were really the only adult in the room during those meetings. Sad to say, Polly, but I’ve decided to drop out. However, the only reason I did is because Tippy Chambers is stepping in. You know she’ll do a great job.”
Polly, who had looked concerned when Myrtle said she was dropping out, looked instantly relieved at the mention of Tippy. “Yes. Yes, she definitely will. Oh, that’s good news, Myrtle.”
Myrtle said, “I have a couple of questions for you that only an insider would be able to answer.”
Polly grinned at her. “It sounds like Myrtle Clover, Ace Reporter, is on the job again.”
“Well, I thought I’d try to figure out what’s going on since there hasn’t seemed to be a lot of progress on the case so far. What I wanted to know about was Bonner and Royce’s relationship.”
Polly chuckled. “Let me guess. Bonner made it sound as though he and Royce were the best of fr
iends.”
“He certainly did. Oh, he said there were some hurt feelings about the fact they didn’t choose Royce’s construction company for that big project but continued saying that they still got along just fine and even played golf together.”
Polly said, “Well, the issues between Royce and Bonner were a lot more contentious than that. The golf games were, too,” she added dryly.
“So you think there were hard feelings between them still? More than just feeling a little piqued?”
Polly nodded her head. “Most definitely. In fact, I was delighted when you stepped into the race because I was really worried about how the council meetings were going to go if Royce won the election. I didn’t think I wanted to deal with all the sniping on a regular basis.”
Myrtle smiled at her. “Thanks so much. You’ve given me exactly what I was looking for.”
Polly continued walking toward the elevator. “Good to see you, Myrtle. Good luck solving this case.”
Myrtle ran into Red on his way to the station. Unfortunately, he appeared to have heard Polly’s words before she’d disappeared into the elevator.
He groaned when he saw her. “Mama, I’m starting to feel like I can’t escape you. And what sort of nonsense was going on in your yard this morning?”
“It was a lovely fundraiser for my now-defunct campaign.”
Red’s eyes brightened. “What? You mean you dropped out?”
“You needn’t look so gleeful, Red. It was a carefully-calculated decision.”
Red said, “I can believe that. Everything you do is carefully calculated. But what made you decide to drop out?”
“Because Tippy Chambers is dropping in. I was the mastermind behind that.” Myrtle paused. “Perhaps I should be her campaign manager. Oh, never mind. Tippy is so organized, she doesn’t require one.” She gave Red a sweet smile. “Have you found out any information on the brouhaha last night?”
“If you’re referring to the murder that took place next door to you, only a few bits and pieces here and there.”
Myrtle raised her eyebrows. “Surprising. Because you appear to have been up all night.”
“As, I’m sure, were you,” said Red smoothly. “Now, Mama, I really have to go. I’m meeting up with Lieutenant Perkins to go over things.”
“Go over things you haven’t found out yet? That does sound rather premature. Unless you have discovered some information on Preston’s murder and are simply reluctant to share it with me. Please give Perkins my regards.”
“Just stay out of trouble, Mama, please? Don’t think I didn’t hear Miss Polly telling you good luck on solving the case. That’s the last thing you need to be doing—being nosy and getting the murderer riled up. And no gallivanting around in the middle of the night. This last murder was a little too close to home.” Red hurried into the police station inside the town hall.
Myrtle took a thoughtful walk back home. At least, it was thoughtful until Pasha started loping along beside her.
Myrtle stopped and beamed at the black cat. “Pasha! You’ve been so attentive lately. Are you worried about me? At least you show it in a much more appropriate manner than my son does. I’m glad you’re keeping an eye on me.”
Pasha half-closed her eyes and gave her rattling purr. She resumed her accompaniment of Myrtle on the stroll back to the house.
Wanda opened the door to them and Pasha wound herself around Wanda’s legs as Wanda bent down to rub the cat.
“I’m going to grab some tuna for Pasha. She’s being such a good girl and brilliant, too, as always. She knows bad things are happening around here and she’s looking out for me,” said Myrtle as she headed back to the kitchen.
On the way, she passed by Miles, who had apparently been sleeping in the armchair. He woke with a start and rubbed his eyes.
“Coffee for everyone!” declared Myrtle. “Heavens, Miles, you’re looking about as groggy as Red.”
Miles chuckled. “So you ran into Red at the town hall? I’m sure he was very happy to see you.”
“Delighted, as always! He claimed he’d made absolutely no progress on the case, which is rather hard to believe. I think he must be trying to keep everything under his hat, as usual. Which means I’m going to have to strike out on my own for information once again. Anyway, Tippy is now the candidate we’re throwing our support behind because she did get her paperwork. I ran into a couple of others at town hall, too.”
Miles took a big sip from his coffee, figuring he was going to be asked to be sharper than he currently was.
“First, I spoke with Bonner, who was genial as always, but not particularly helpful. He spun this yarn about he and Royce being golfing buddies. Said that maybe they had their disagreements, but it hadn’t created hard feelings on either side. He did mention Scotty speaking with Preston at Royce’s funeral, but that was a silly thing to bring up considering Scotty was speaking with everyone at his dad’s funeral. It would have been rude not to,” said Myrtle.
Miles looked confused. “What was Bonner trying to make of that? Was he saying that Scotty found out Preston knew something about Royce’s death and then Scotty killed Preston?”
“I don’t think he knew what he was saying. I think Bonner was just throwing things out there to see what would stick and deflect attention from himself. Anyway, then I ran into Polly. You remember Polly, Miles.” Myrtle turned to Wanda. “Polly is on the council and is sharp as a tack. Polly said that Bonner and Royce most certainly did have hard feelings toward each other and that their golf games weren’t that friendly, either.”
“Are anyone’s golf games friendly?” asked Miles. “I remember being dragged out to the golf course and feeling a distinct level of enmity under all the friendly-sounding camaraderie.”
“The point is that Bonner is lying,” said Myrtle, giving Miles a disapproving look. “We don’t need to take this as a statement on golfing as a hobby.”
“Aren’t they all lying?” asked Miles.
“Yes,” croaked Wanda.
Myrtle looked at her thoughtfully and had a sip of coffee.
“I’m sure Wanda is right. Everyone is trying to present their own version of the truth. And in each version, they’re making sure they’re the ones who end up looking innocent. At least I know what our plan is now.”
“Were you going to share the plan with us?” asked Miles dryly.
“We’re going to go to the barbeque restaurant and see Scotty, of course. We haven’t spoken to him for a while. Even though he probably does lie, I don’t somehow think he’s lying quite as much as everyone else.”
Miles didn’t seem to like this idea. “Barbeque sauce isn’t good for my digestion.”
“Fortunately, they have other things at the restaurant, Miles. You could order cornbread muffins or corn on the cob.”
“Sounds like a lot of corn,” muttered Miles.
“For heaven’s sake, Miles! They have collard greens there, too.”
Miles looked unhappy but nodded.
“Wanda, do you like barbeque?” asked Myrtle.
Wanda said, “I do. But I ain’t gonna go.”
“Why on earth not?”
“’Cause I done run out of money,” said Wanda. “Won’t git another check from Sloan fer a week.”
“But I’ll pay for it. It’s just barbeque.”
“You done paid enough lately,” said Wanda firmly.
Miles cleared his throat. “It would be my pleasure to pay for the meal, Wanda.”
Wanda gave him her crooked smile. “You’re a good cousin. But you done paid enough lately too. I’m gonna eat a sandwich outta the fridge and play cards.”
Myrtle still feel a bit resistant to this plan, but saw the set of Wanda’s jaw and realized she wasn’t going to get anywhere. “Well, all right. When I come back, we’ll all watch Tomorrow’s Promise together, all right?”
Chapter Nineteen
Miles and Myrtle walked out to his car. Myrtle sighed. “I feel like Wanda needs to be in t
own, don’t you? It’s been good to have her stay with me for a while. She just seems so isolated when she’s out there with that crazy brother of hers. Plus, here in town she eats better and can visit with people and is near medical care if she needs it.”
Miles was quiet for a few moments and then said, “That’s all true. But I wonder if it’s how Wanda feels about it.”
“You think she misses home?” Myrtle, although she prided herself on her imagination, couldn’t seem to picture it—missing the dark, cluttered house in the middle of nowhere. “Misses Crazy Dan?”
Miles shrugged. “It’s hard for me to imagine it too, but it’s all she’s known. Plus, you know how people are when they see her in town. It’s like a celebrity appearance. They all huddle around her. It’s very tiring.”
Myrtle made a face. “Well, that’s true. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over my many years, it’s that people are often thoughtless and annoying. I’ll have to find out what Wanda thinks about all this. I’d been wondering if maybe I could help find her a small duplex or something that she could afford in town. Maybe she wouldn’t like that, though.”
“I think it’s something she should be asked about,” said Miles.
Myrtle thought about this on the short ride to the barbeque restaurant. The parking lot for the old building was usually packed, but they’d timed their trip there well and there were only a few cars out front. The restaurant had been there for as long as Myrtle could remember, which was a very long time. It was the kind of local hole-in-the-wall place that didn’t exactly exude “fine dining,” but offered the best barbeque in the county.
They walked in and waited a moment for their eyes to adjust from the bright sunshine outside to the dim interior. When they did, Miles and Myrtle saw Scotty at the front register, grinning at them.
“Look who’s here,” he said. “How are things going?”
“Oh, pretty good,” said Myrtle. “I spoke with your mother recently and she said that you’re doing great. She mentioned you were working here now and that your new apartment was really working out.”
Murder on the Ballot Page 15
