Chapter Fourteen

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Blanche's house was a nice brick home, surrounded by lush landscaping. The deputy had already left, fortunately, and Red and company didn't appear to be on site yet. "Perfect timing," said Myrtle.

Blanche answered the door immediately. She was wearing all black and some very grim makeup that appeared to be hastily applied. "How sweet of you both," she murmured, looking at the plant. "Won't you come in?"

"We were so sorry to hear about Nash," said Myrtle, as sincerely as she could say it. "It must be such a terrible shock for you."

Blanche nodded sadly. "I couldn't believe it, Myrtle. Simply couldn't believe it. I made the deputy say the words three times before they even started sinking in. Why, I only saw Nash yesterday and he was fit as a fiddle."

Myrtle resisted the strong urge to remind Blanche that it wasn't illness that felled Nash.

Blanche continued, "I couldn't face the day after I heard the news. My world had grown dark and cold, so I put on black to match it." She blinked mournfully at Miles, who gave her a startled smile.

"And I see you closed all the blinds," said Myrtle. "To further reflect your mood."

"Hmm? Oh, no, that's just because I'm hungover. Blasted vodka."

A chuckle started bubbling out of Miles, which he hastily converted into an awkward-sounding cough.

Blanche said, "You're both so kind to understand what I'm going through. I know it wasn't as if Nash and I were married, or even engaged, but it's still a loss, just the same. Another prospect bites the dust." Her eyes glowed with sudden malevolence. "Somebody's gotta be punished for that."

"Any ideas who?" asked Myrtle.

"Absolutely. I think it's that nutty Belinda. She's been giving me the stink-eye every time I see her out and about. What a ridiculous woman."

Miles said mildly, "I thought she was rather nice. Although perhaps misguided in terms of relationships."

"You're only thinking she's nice because you're nice, Miles," said Blanche. "I tell you, the woman is off her rocker. I guess Belinda took offence that I started dating Nash because she's been calling me at all hours of the day and night and then hanging up."

"But you know it's her," said Myrtle.

"The silly woman is one of the contacts on my phone! Of course it's her. I finally blocked her number and haven't heard from her since then. What's annoying is that the deputy was asking questions as if I had something to do with Nash's death." Blanche gave an inelegant snort.

"Were you able to provide the deputy with an alibi?" asked Myrtle.

"Sure was. I was out partying with Georgia last night. We tied one on at the bar downtown. Your boss at the newspaper saw us there, too. What's his name?"

"Sloan," said Myrtle. She found it very plausible that Sloan had been frequenting the bar.

"Right, Sloan. Anyway, Georgia knows how to live it up. We were doing vodka shots for a while and I couldn't keep up with her."

Miles looked intrigued.

"I danced with Sloan and Georgia danced with lots of people. The bar finally kicked us out to close up, and she and I staggered back to our respective homes since nobody could drive."

"And Nash wasn't with you?" asked Miles.

"Nope. He said he had to work." Blanche shrugged.

"Really? He didn't seem to be attired for working," said Myrtle.

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