A Body at Book Club: Myrtle Clover #6

Chapter Ten

Myrtle heard the kitchen door swiftly slam behind whoever was rapidly leaving. She hurried to the window, but saw nothing. There were woods bordering that side of the house (more of Rose's precious trees) and the intruder had taken advantage of their cover to escape.

So Rose must have just been murdered. Myrtle shuddered at the thought that she could have walked in on a murder in progress if she'd arrived moments earlier. She jumped as she heard the sound of a door again and then realized it was Red coming at last.

Red called out, an anxious sharpness to his voice, "Mama? Mama, where are you?"

"I'm in the living room, Red. Right here."

Red hurried in, his face relaxing a little when he saw she was all right, but then tensing up again when he saw the slumped figure on the floor. "What in the Sam Hill is going on here? Two murders in Rose Mayfield's house in the last week?" He pulled out a handkerchief and quickly swabbed his forehead. Then he placed a quick, terse phone call to the State Bureau of Investigations (SBI), which was the North Carolina State Police. "What were you doing here again?"

Myrtle hesitated. After receiving the phone call from Greener Pastures that morning, she wasn't exactly in a sharing, cooperative type of mood. Red would be furious if he thought she was poking around in the murder still. She thought she might just test his detective skills a little and see if he or the state police noticed the crossword puzzle book. Myrtle had a feeling they might overlook the clue—the real clue.

So, instead, she said firmly, "I'd asked Rose to be on the lookout for Pasha. I gave her a flyer and all. I was following up with her to see whether she'd spotted her. Rose spends a lot of time outside, gardening."

Red raised his eyebrows, glancing around. "Doesn't look like Rose paid all that much attention to the flyer. I don't see it lying around or posted on her French doors or anything."

Myrtle snapped, "Maybe she's got it on her fridge. Who knows? Maybe she has a photographic memory and simply stared at Pasha's picture and then tossed the paper. Who cares what I was doing here, anyway? I didn't kill Rose. But I surprised the person who did."

Red drew in a gasping breath. "You did? You saw him?"

"No, I didn't see him, I surprised him. When he heard me calling out for Rose when I opened the door, he hid in the kitchen. I heard him run out a few minutes later. I guess he must have run into the woods," said Myrtle.

"Seems likely," said Red. His lips were pulled down into a ferocious frown.

"I'm sure no one saw a fleeing suspect, either," said Myrtle. "No one sees anything in this town!" She glared at Rose's body.

"Now, it's hardly Rose's fault that she was too dead to witness the killer's getaway," said Red with a roll of his eyes. "I told you to keep out of all this, if you remember. Don't think I'm buying the story about the cat. I have a terrible feeling this is all going to end poorly if you don't butt out, Mama. This person means business. He might even have seen you through the kitchen door or a reflection or something. Might have recognized your voice."

Myrtle guiltily recalled that she'd identified herself as she'd entered Rose's house. "So this murderer might have seen you snooping and is deciding that you're next, Mama."

"I wasn't snooping!" Myrtle drew back as if she'd been stung, her face flushing with the lie.

"Regardless, you're probably in danger. Why don't you just do something fun to distract yourself? Go to Bo's Diner with Miles or something."