A Body in the Trunk : Myrtle Clover Book 12

Chapter Seven

Sloan said in a fast mumble, "I like Adelaide. I'd like to date her or something. I knew she needed some extra work because she was saying that teaching didn't pay very well, so I offered her a small, paying job here. Asking her out while she was working for me isn't appropriate, I know. I was trying to figure out what to do when I overheard her tell Forsythia Thomas that she was seeing someone. You know how nosy Forsythia is."

Miles said sympathetically, "That must have stung."

"It did," said Sloan with a quick nod. "And then it stung more when I saw her out later in Neil Albert's car."

"Well, I hope you've crossed her off your list of likely love interests. Anyone who dates married men isn't a good candidate," said Myrtle. She tilted her head to one side. "Although you bring up an interesting point. I could help find you a date."

Miles groaned and gave Sloan a sympathetic look.

Sloan's eyes opened wide. "No, Miss Myrtle. That is, I'm sure I'll find someone nice to go out with. On my own, without help."

"Not at the rate you're going, Sloan. In fact, this is the first time I've even heard you profess interest in dating for a long while," said Myrtle with a frown.

"There's only so much rejection one guy can take before he needs a break from it," said Sloan with a shrug.

"What kind of person are you looking for?" asked Myrtle. "I hope you're not lowering your standards."

Miles looked fervently at the door as if planning to bolt from the newsroom.

"I don't really know," said Sloan. "Mostly? I think I just want a friend. Somebody to go to a baseball game with or to see a movie with. A friend."

"But a friend who's a woman," said Myrtle.

"Exactly." Now Sloan was looking wistfully at the door, too.

Myrtle said, "Okay. Let me mull that over for a bit. Bradley has a limited number of possibilities, after all. Perhaps we need to widen the net to surrounding towns. But now, moving back to my newspaper article, I'm supposing that you want me to write it because it will look like revenge if you had to write about Adelaide killing Neil Albert?"

Sloan's red face now turned pale. "Gosh, you don't think that Adelaide actually did it, do you? Why would she do that? She clearly liked the guy."

"Why wouldn't she do it? Maybe she was upset that he wasn't divorcing his wife to marry her. Maybe they had an argument and she lost control. Who knows why she might have done it? There are other people who might have done it, too, and it's very early in the investigation. Be assured that I will write a careful, thoughtful, insightful piece, as I always do."

Sloan said in a rush, "Of course, Miss Myrtle. But if you could keep from telling Red about the story? You know how he hates it when you write crime-related articles."

"Believe me, I don't tell Red everything I know. I know how to keep secrets," said Myrtle. She was turning to leave, but then turned back around again. "Since you're out and about a lot, have you heard anything about Tarleton Fleming?"

"Like the fact that he's out of a job?" asked Sloan, raising his eyebrows.

"What do you know about that?" asked Myrtle.

"Only that he was in the pub a few nights ago, spilling his guts out about how miserable his life was right now." Sloan, apparently fearing that Myrtle's delicate sensibilities might be offended said, "You know that sometimes I go to a pub after work. Just for one drink."

Myrtle knew that Sloan frequently went to the pub after work. For a lot more than one drink. She'd seen him walking the short walk from the pub to his house on numerous occasions. "Your pub habits aren't my concern, Sloan. But I'm sorry to hear about Tarleton."