A Body at Book Club: Myrtle Clover #6

Chapter Nine

The unusual quarrel with Miles was the catalyst that set Myrtle's night into a downward spiral. She slept restlessly that night and was plagued with insomnia at two-thirty in the morning. She'd had to squash her first instinct, which was to go over to Miles for their milk and cookies.

Myrtle decided to channel her insomnia and restlessness into something more productive. She started a load of laundry, emptied her dishwasher, and then sat down at her computer to write the news story about the mushroom poisoning. She wrote about Naomi and her involvement in both book club and garden club. She mentioned that the garden club had brought in a special speaker from the county extension office who had talked at great length about poisonous mushrooms, as well as other garden problems. Without coming right out and making the connection, since it was a news story, she wrote that not long after that meeting, Naomi had been poisoned by a Destroying Angel mushroom.

Myrtle read over the story carefully, tweaking her word choice and ensuring the article was as factual as she could make it. Then she opened up another document and wrote her regular, helpful hints column. She had several decent things to put in there this time...it really all depended on what people emailed over to her. A couple of times she's unapologetically made up tips, not having any material. It kept her creativity alive, she'd decided. But this time she had a tip for putting a dry towel in with a wet load in the dryer to speed up the drying process. And a tip for using old milk containers as watering cans by poking holes into the plastic cap.

Myrtle ended her tip column with an appeal to the public to keep an eye out for Pasha.

She hopefully looked outside her front window to see if her newspaper had come—at this point, it was four o'clock in the morning. It hadn't, but it arrived thirty minutes later with a skidding sound on her front walk. Myrtle fetched it, and quickly finished the crossword puzzle. Then she read over the tips column and the news story one more time and emailed them to her editor, Sloan.

Myrtle was walking into her kitchen for a refill of coffee when her computer made a chiming sound to let her know she'd gotten an email. She frowned and headed back over to the desktop.

There was an immediate response from Sloan there. She was amazed that he woke up this early. The email said: I'm sorry, Miss Myrtle, but I can't run this story. Thanks for the tip column, though, and good luck with the missing cat. It's always a good idea to add a bit of human interest to a column—great job.

Myrtle hadn't been trying to add human interest to the column. She'd just wanted to get her cat back. And it was extremely annoying about the news story. Red continued shutting her down at every turn. It was turning out to be a most unsatisfactory day already...and it was only five a.m.

It was after breakfast when things became worse.

Myrtle's phone rang at eight-thirty and she frowned at the wall phone. Phone calls before nine o'clock in the morning were tacky. She walked over and picked up. "Hello?" she asked.

A nasal and insistent voice said, "Is this Myrtle Clover?"

"Tell me who this is, first," said Myrtle impatiently. "You're the one making the call."

"This is Nan, a representative from Greener Pastures Retirement Home. Is this Myrtle Clover?"

"Yes it is," said Myrtle guardedly.

"We understand that you want to be placed on the waiting list for Greener Pastures," said the woman in a rather pompous tone.

Myrtle spluttered, "That I want to be on the waiting list? Pardon me?"