| |
The attendant smiled at Myrtle. She was clearly new and had not experienced any of the rabble-rousing activities Myrtle had engineered in the past. “Actually, Mrs. Hayes isn’t in her room right now. I saw her on my way over here. She’s in the puzzle room.”
As the three followed the attendant’s directions, Myrtle scoffed, “A puzzle room. I wonder if they polled the residents about what they wanted the room to be. Maybe it would be better suited for a video game room. Or a computer lab. Or a library. The thing is, they don’t ever seem to take the inmates’ wishes into account.”
Miles said, “I think a puzzle room sounds rather nice.”
Myrtle pursed her lips. “Of course you do.”
After wending their way through the maze of hallways, they found the room. Inside, there was an elderly lady with snow-white hair and a pleasant expression on her face. She was not working on the cityscape puzzle on the large table, but rather on her knitting. It appeared to be a scarf.
“Eunice?” asked Myrtle quietly.
The old woman looked up quizzically, but calmly. “Hi there,” she said.
“It’s Myrtle Clover,” said Myrtle gently. “How are you doing?”
“Fair enough,” said Eunice. “Although I’ve been waiting for the flight out of here.”
Miles seemed startled, but Myrtle took this in stride. “Have you? And the flights have been canceled?”
Eunice blew out a sigh. “That’s right. I’ve been stuck here in Nicaragua. This vacation has gone on far too long.”
“It would be easier if the food was better,” said Myrtle.
Eunice made a face. “Those hot dogs and baked beans. Yuck.”
Myrtle said, “These are my friends, Miles and Wanda.”
Eunice gave them a polite smile before turning her attention back to Myrtle. “You seem very familiar.”
“We used to teach together, you and I.”
Eunice said, “Did we? Did you teach science, too?”
Myrtle shook her head. “I was in the English department.”
“Right, right,” said Eunice hurriedly, hastily trying to cover up the fact that she’d forgotten.
Myrtle said, “I saw Frank the other day. He seems like he’s getting along pretty well.”
Eunice smiled. “He is, isn’t he?” She looked down at her lap, appearing surprised by the scarf and the knitting needles she’d laid down there. Then she smiled again, remembering. “This scarf is actually going to be for Frank. He lost his.”
“That’s what men and boys do, don’t they? I remember my Red coming back from school without his jacket more than once.”
Eunice nodded, picking up the needles once more. “Yes. Frank will need this for the playground, for sure.”
A passel of old women came into the room. One of them said, “That’s Wanda! The psychic!”
Eunice happily returned to her knitting, seemingly forgetting the conversation she’d been engaged in.
Myrtle gave the old women a steely look before murmuring to Wanda, “You don’t have to do a single parlor trick. I can get rid of these old biddies in a second.”
But Wanda shook her head. “It’s okay. Might give ‘em some entertainment.”
The women gazed pleadingly at Myrtle. Myrtle said, “Ten minutes.”
They gave an excited squeal and quickly swamped Wanda as Myrtle and Miles took a seat by the puzzle table. Soon, they could hear Wanda saying, “Miz White, you lost a family recipe. It’s in yer blue notebook. Got stuck in there.”
Mrs. White thanked her profusely and hurried out the door to find it as Wanda moved on to Mrs. Monroe and an ancestor’s spirit.
Myrtle watched her carefully. “She seems a bit better now, doesn’t she?”
Miles was carefully putting puzzle pieces into the correct spots on the cityscape. “Hmm? Wanda, you mean?”
“Yes. Usually, when Wanda’s in a group of harpies like this, she looks unhappy and exhausted. But right now she seems composed and more energetic.”
Miles looked up from his puzzle to study Wanda. He nodded. “Bet that’s because Crazy Dan left. Now that she doesn’t have to deal with the stress of living with her brother, things are looking up for her. Now she has more energy to pour into everything else.”
“That’s actually a very perceptive comment, Miles.”
Miles said, “She might also be relaxed because she has real income coming in. Not only is she being paid by Sloan for the horoscopes, she’s also got that wealthy private client. Worrying about money takes a lot of time and energy.”
“You’ve decided she’s doing all right, then? Financially?” asked Myrtle.
“I don’t think she’s swimming in it, but she seems to be a whole lot better off than she used to be. Especially if she can easily swing five hundred dollars a month for a car payment.”
Myrtle nodded. “Right. Because she doesn’t have to deal with her brother’s online buying habit.” She was watching Wanda as Miles worked on the puzzle for a few moments. Then Myrtle’s gaze was diverted by someone walking through the door. She sat up straighter. “It’s Frank Hayes!”
Miles glanced up. He and Myrtle gave Frank a wave. He looked rather confused at the group of elderly women huddled around Wanda. He came over to join them at the puzzle table.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “Is Greener Pastures holding an actual event?”
Myrtle scoffed. “As if. No, this is a spontaneous event that my friend Wanda kindly agreed to. Nothing to do with the retirement home.”
Frank sighed. “I was hoping to hear that they’d actually planned an activity my mom might enjoy or find stimulating.” He paused. “What are you two doing here? Making a reconnaissance mission?”
Myrtle said stiffly, “Certainly not. I have no desire to leave my home. No, we’re here because I donated some whimsical yard art for the residents’ enjoyment. Then, knowing your mother was here, I decided to have a little visit with her. I didn’t realize Eunice was living with dementia.”
Frank sighed. “Some days are better than others. How did she seem to you today?”
“She didn’t recognize me, but she seemed happy overall. She’s knitting away over there and seemed content. Does she like it here at Greener Pastures?”
Miles gave Myrtle a warning look. Myrtle sometimes felt it was her mission in life to convince people to leave Greener Pastures.
But Myrtle blithely proceeded. “It’s just that the food is so terrible. And the activities are silly, as you just pointed out.”
Frank held out his hands as if making his case. “I didn’t want her to come here. I wished she could stay at home. When I felt like she wasn’t safe by herself, though, I had to make the choice.”
“Well, she does seem happy.”
Frank leaned forward as if someone could possibly overhear them in the chaos of women pestering Wanda for answers to the questions of their hearts. “I heard you two found Isabella.”
“I’m afraid so.”
Frank shook his head. “It’s all such a terrible shame. I just can’t believe it.”
Miles said, “It sounded like you spent time over there regularly. It must have come as a shock.”
“It was a really relaxing place to go,” said Frank. “Isabella was always welcoming. Not just welcoming, she was funny, smart, and easy to talk to.”
“Have the police been by to talk with you again?” asked Myrtle sweetly.
Frank looked startled by the question, and Myrtle continued. “It’s their standard procedure, you know. If they spoke with you after the first death, they should do so following the second.”
“I suppose you should know,” said Frank. “After all, you’re the mother of a cop. But the police only spoke to me the first time because they thought I could provide useful information.”
“Are you sure that’s why they spoke with you?” asked Myrtle, just as sweetly. “I thought perhaps it was because of your contentious relationship with Gerald. At least, that’s what people are saying.”
Frank’s face flushed at this. “People in this town will talk about anything. They’re all gossip-mongers.” He looked nervously across the room at his mother, still happily knitting away. “I just hope the gossip won’t reach Mom’s ears. It might kill her.”
“We certainly wouldn’t want that. Maybe the police would give you a pass if you were able to produce an alibi, Frank. Perhaps you were visiting your dear mother?”
Frank shook his head. “Mom sleeps in until lunchtime. Sometimes the staff has to rouse her to get her to the dining hall before it closes. I was just at home.”
“Not on plumbing-related calls?” asked Myrtle.
“There were no calls this morning.”
Myrtle said, “Well, that’s certainly very unfortunate. Here’s another question for you. When was the last time you saw Isabella? Considering, of course, that you frequented Serenity Springs often.”
Frank considered this. “I suppose it must have been Monday. I knew Isabella was having a tough time, and that she was worried about her business. Serenity Springs hasn’t been open for very long.” He looked glum suddenly. “I wonder what will happen to it.”
“How was Isabella on Monday?” asked Myrtle.
Frank looked a little irritated. “Like I said, she seemed worried about the business. I was over there just making sure she was okay. I told her how sorry I was that everything had gone poorly. I knew Isabella had a lot riding on the wine tasting.”
Myrtle tilted her head to one side. “You mentioned that a little last time.”
“What?”
“That you thought Isabella might have had something to do with Gerald’s death. Since she had so much invested in the tasting and Gerald was likely going to write a very negative review,” said Myrtle.
When Frank spoke, his tone was chilly. “I didn’t really think that. I’d just mentioned that Gerald had been unconscionably rude and inconsiderate to Isabella when all she was trying to do was learn the ropes.”
Myrtle said, “I’ve heard the same thing from at least a couple of people. What I don’t understand, though, is why Isabella would have started out in the business without knowing how to run it. She didn’t seem like the kind of person who’d try that.”
“No, of course she wasn’t. Isabella told me herself how much research she’d done. Not only that, she’d worked at other vineyards to try to get experience. That doesn’t mean that she wasn’t going to run into unexpected issues, though. Of course she’d have wanted to ask Gerald to guide her through some of them. He’d been in the business for decades.”
“I see,” said Myrtle. “So there were just some things that cropped up.”
“Yes. But some of those issues were pretty big deals. The vineyard’s first vintage had all kinds of problems, according to Isabella. There was some kind of severe pest infestation that affected the muscadines and grapes. Gerald had already gotten a sample of the new vintage and was planning to write some kind of scathing review. I guess he was at the tasting to see what else he could write about.”
Miles asked, “Did you talk to Gerald about the reviews?”
Frank snorted. “I avoided Gerald as much as possible. But Ben Foster filled me in when I saw him coming into work one day. Ben was worried Gerald might cause Isabella’s business to go under. Gerald had given Ben the review to read. Gerald had complained about the wine’s off-putting flavors.”
Myrtle frowned. “Everyone seemed to like them.”
Frank shrugged. “I liked them, too. But I’m no wine connoisseur.”
Miles said, “Nor do we own a competing vineyard.”
“Right,” said Frank. “Gerald might have had an ulterior motive. Anyway, Gerald was going to publish that the wine tasted like ‘rotting fruit’ and ‘vinegar.’ He was also going to mention that the vineyard failed to address quality control issues.”
Myrtle pressed her lips together in annoyance at the dead Gerald. “That seems really over-the-top.”
“It was,” said Frank. “And according to Ben, a review like that could have damaged the vineyard’s standing in the wine industry. Serenity Springs could have lost a lot of sales and prestige. I’d known, from things she’d said before Gerald’s death, that she’d asked Gerald for tips, and he hadn’t helped out. I got the rest later.”
“It seems pretty clear Isabella had nothing to do with Gerald’s death, considering she’s now deceased herself. Any other ideas?” asked Myrtle. She glanced over at Wanda, still in the melee, to make sure she continued to be all right. She was relieved to see that she was focused and in charge of things.
Frank blew out a breath in a thoughtful manner. “Well, I suppose Julia Greystone would be a prime suspect, wouldn’t she? Looks like she had lots to gain. I don’t really know her, of course. Mama used to tell me Gerald was pretty awful to his daughter. When Julia was a little girl, she’d come over to Mama’s house for kind words and cookies.”
“That was very nice of her,” said Miles.
Frank smiled. “Mama loved mothering strays of all kinds. She took in a baby squirrel that had gotten separated from its mom one time. I guess she thought Julia was much the same.”
Myrtle asked, “What did Eunice say about Gerald and his daughter?”
“Just that Gerald acted like he didn’t have the time for Julia. She wondered if he’d ever wanted children to begin with. Mama said Julia’s mother wasn’t much better, either. She was too wrapped up in dealing with her unhappy marriage to give Julia much thought.”
“Thank goodness Julia had your mom then,” said Miles.
They looked over at Eunice. She’d fallen asleep over her knitting.
Myrtle gave Frank a stern look. “You need to keep up with your scarves. Your mom is working hard on them.”
Frank quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out another knitted scarf. “Mama is just confused,” he said in a chilly voice. “I don’t lose my stuff.”
Myrtle decided it was time to vacate Greener Pastures before a staff member tried herding her into a room. “It was good seeing you, Frank. And your dear mother.” In a loud voice, she said, “Wanda is now leaving the building. I repeat, Wanda is leaving.”
There was a disappointed groan from the crowd, which had grown significantly since Wanda had started. Myrtle took Wanda’s thin arm and guided her out of the puzzle room while women continued throwing questions at her.
“We’ll charge admission next time,” said Myrtle grimly. “What chaos. Are you all right, Wanda?”
“Yep, Was fine. We don’t have Miles with us, though.”
Myrtle looked behind her. “Did we lose Miles in the maelstrom? Why does he have such a hard time keeping up?” While they waited, Myrtle fiercely guarded Wanda. An old man approached her to ask something, and Myrtle hissed at him.
Miles finally caught up with them. “Sorry,” he said, looking flushed. “My shoelace was untied, and I was worried about falling. Then someone asked if I wanted a tour of the facility. I had a hard time getting away from them.”
“For heaven’s sake,” said Myrtle. “Let’s get out of here. I feel like Greener Pastures is trying to grip us in its evil clutches.”
Miles made haste as he pulled out of the parking place and away from the retirement home. “To the dealership.” He looked in the rearview mirror at Wanda. “You’re sure you like this car?”
Wanda said, “Yep. It’ll do jest fine.”
“And the payments are all right? I’ll see if I can negotiate it down, of course, but if I don’t get anywhere, you’ll be able to afford them?”
Wanda said, “Reckon so. I done did the math on it.”
“All right. If the mechanic says the vehicle checks out, we’ll head back to the dealership and do some haggling.”
Fortunately, the mechanic said the car was in tip-top shape. They headed back to Sunny Auto Haven in two cars.
Jeremy was waiting for them. He stepped out, grinning. “What’s the word on the car?”
Miles said, “Looks like it checked out. The lady would still like the car.”
Jeremy looked over the moon at this statement. “Wonderful! Let’s go ring it up.”
Miles put the brakes on him. “Let’s go to your office and talk about the price.”
Jeremy’s face fell. “Oh, this is a haggle-free zone. The price on the window is the price of the car.”
Miles shook his head. “I don’t believe so. I took the liberty of pulling up the market value of the car on the Kelley Blue Book site. Sunny Auto Haven has overpriced the vehicle. Also, I couldn’t help but notice the car wasn’t in pristine condition.”
Jeremy turned to Wanda with pleading eyes. “You said how much you liked the car.”
Wanda said dryly, “Miles is talkin’ fer me.”
Jeremy seemed very sorry to hear this. He turned back around to Miles. “Yes, let’s meet in my office to discuss it.”
In the end, Miles was able to get Wanda quite a decent discount. The paperwork took forever. Myrtle entertained herself by pulling out a crossword puzzle book from her huge purse. Wanda, scrawling her name over and over again, looked relieved when the process was finally over.
“Congratulations,” said Jeremy, giving his million-dollar smile. “You’re the owner of a beautiful car.”
Wanda looked very pleased. Miles looked pleased too, although he had one question for Wanda when they left the building. “How are you going to get home?”
Wanda looked surprised. “Drive muh car.”
“But you didn’t want to drive it earlier.”
“Wudn’t my car.”
Miles said, “I see. Excellent. Would you like to practice in the parking lot before you head on the main road?”
Wanda shook her head vigorously. “Nope.”
Wanda apparently didn’t like the idea of the rows of cars for sale acting as targets for her amateur driving. Miles carefully drove her car out of the parking lot, and Wanda then climbed into the front seat.
“Be careful,” said Myrtle. “Are you sure you don’t want to do driving practice with Miles?”
“Used up enough of y’all’s time today.” Then Wanda gave Myrtle a serious look. “Yer in danger.”
Myrtle blew out a sigh. “Naturally. Anything else?”
Wanda took the question at face value and seriously considered it. “I see th’ danger, but not the person behind it.” She squinted hard, as if the person’s face was right in front of her. “Nope. Don’t got it.” She paused. “Be nice to Erma.”
“Oh no,” groaned Myrtle, as an image of her rat-faced neighbor popped unbidden into her head. “Anything but that. I’d rather just be in danger.”
“Jest be nice.” And with that, Wanda drove carefully away. Her driving pace made Myrtle look like a speed demon in comparison.
Just minutes later, Miles pulled into Myrtle’s driveway. “Looks like Erma is on her way over now,” said Miles. “Which is my cue to get out of here.”
“Miles!” said Myrtle.
“Wanda didn’t tell me to be nice to Erma,” Miles pointed out reasonably. He left post-haste.
Myrtle squared her shoulders and faced her grinning nemesis. “Whatcha doing, Myrtle?” she asked.
“Oh, just heading into my house.” Myrtle’s voice was fervent with the hope that she could take refuge in her small house as soon as possible. But Wanda’s voice rang in her ears. She took a deep breath and steeled herself to be nice.
“Right. Hey, do you have any tips for dealing with nail fungus?”
Myrtle shook her head. “Not in my wheelhouse. Perhaps a podiatrist?”
“Do you have the number for one? Somebody you recommend?”
Myrtle said through gritted teeth, “Fortunately, I haven’t needed one.” She glanced over at Erma’s yard. Then she frowned. “Erma, it looks like you’ve been getting rid of some of your shrubs.” This, in itself, was not a bad thing. Erma’s shrubs were hollowed-out things, a patchy green on the outside and mere sticks on the inside. However, Erma’s method of eliminating them seemed odd.
“Tippy said they were dead. Guess I’ll be replacing them.”
Myrtle said, “It looks like you’re using a hoe.”
“Well, I’ve been cutting them back with shears first. Then I use my hoe and yank them up.” Erma looked down at her red, mottled hands, which appeared to be bearing the brunt of the activity.
“Would you like to borrow my shovel?”
Erma grinned at her. “Well, sure! I left mine out and it rusted ages ago, and I keep forgetting to get a new one. Thanks, Myrtle. That’s very nice of you.”
As Myrtle retrieved the shovel, she ardently hoped that this was as nice as she needed to be to Erma and would satisfy Wanda’s vision, whatever it had been.