Progressive Dinner Deadly: Myrtle #2

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Myrtle didn't stay on the ground long. Injuries or no injuries, she was not going to be a sitting target for a killer. There was no sign of the cat and now she wondered if she'd imagined it. She felt around for her cane, grabbed it, got up, and hobbled to Miles's house. His initial exasperation at being awakened in the middle of the night was replaced with concern when he saw how shaken Myrtle was. 

"Did you see the car?" asked Miles as he put a mug of hot tea in Myrtle's hands.  

"No. I heard it, saw something rush off, but that was it. It didn't have its lights on." 

"I guess not. This wasn't someone with safety on their mind." Miles put his teabag on his saucer.  

"Who would want to kill you?" asked Miles. Actually, he could think of quite a few people. He'd qualify for that list from time to time. And Myrtle's son would be on it eighty-five percent of the time. "I mean, which of the suspects?" 

Myrtle, fortunately, was not in an easily-insulted mood. "You know, I think this all goes back to blabbermouth Erma. She told half the town at the funeral home that I just needed a little bit of evidence and then I'd bag the killer. I'd imagine that most murderers would find that news a little discomfiting." 

"Okay, you say half the town, but really, who was there? I can't remember much except that Erma was making a fool of herself as usual." 

"Out of our favorite suspects? Georgia was there," Myrtle ignored the flush that crept up Miles's face. "Sherry was there. Cullen was somewhere around there, but I don't know what kind of condition he was in. Sherry could have told Cullen. Willow was there, although she seemed more upset about Erma's graphic depiction of the crime scene. Simon and Libba were still greeting visitors, but Cullen could have told them about it later. So...basically everyone was there." 

"And you weren't denying Erma's blathering." 

"Well no. She was being too darned interesting for once. I wanted to see where she was going with it all." 

Miles sighed. "Actually, it doesn't really matter who was there or not. It was on the front page of the local rag, remember? Either someone thinks you're getting too close to the truth, or they're worried you're going to. Your nosiness may not seem so harmless anymore. Last time you were nosy, you helped solve a murder. Now you probably seem more like a crime fighter than a snoopy old lady."  

Miles hid a smile at the idea of a strident Myrtle in storm trooper gear out annihilating evil. "So, actually, you don't really know anything. You just told Erma that you did because you were irritated with her. And she blabbed this lie to half the town." 

Myrtle was miffed. "I certainly do know a few things. During the course of my investigation I've found out lots of interesting tidbits." 

Miles raised his eyebrows. 

"Well first of all, I know that someone knew I take little middle of the night walks. They were familiar enough with my habit to wait for me to come out and then try to run me down." 

Miles nodded. "So who would know about that?" 

Myrtle snorted. "Just about anybody. Erma bellowed it out during the supper club for anyone to hear. Remember? She was making fun of the way I was thumping with my cane." 

"Right. And there were a lot of people standing around, although I can't really remember who was that close." 

"Everyone was that close. No offence, Miles, but we were all standing at very close quarters."  

Myrtle stirred her tea while she thought. "I also know Blanche Clark was afraid of Jill, but I really don't know why." She paused. "But I think it might have something to do with Jill's snooping. Maybe Jill was blackmailing Blanche, or maybe Blanche was just worried that Jill could blackmail her. Or Blanche is just worried that people would talk."