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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.”
“Yes, he was upset about it. Spent his whole life at the bank, you know. He was furious,” said Sloan.
“Did he mention who he was so upset with?” asked Miles.
“Sure didn’t. Just was very steamed up,” said Sloan.
Myrtle said, “Thanks for the information, Sloan. I’ll get back to you with the story later today. And, before I forget, I have Wanda’s horoscopes for you. You might be interested in one of them.”
Sloan said eagerly, “I’m interested in all of them. Her horoscopes are a hot commodity for the newspaper. My subscription rates have skyrocketed because of them.”
He took the piece of paper from Myrtle and quickly scanned it. Once again, a flush spread up from his neck to his forehead.
Myrtle knew he’d found Wanda’s message for him: Love is on its way.
Miles drove the short distance to the diner. “What did the horoscope say? I must have been on the lookout for more chickens and not listening by that point in our visit.”
“Love is on its way,” said Myrtle.
“That doesn’t really sound like Wanda’s diction,” said Miles.
“My whole job is to clean up Wanda’s diction,” said Myrtle. “Without changing the substance of her predictions. No, Wanda’s message was more like: look out fer love. There is always tidying to be done with Wanda’s column.”
“And you’ve decided to insert yourself in Sloan’s love life,” said Miles.
“How conniving you make me sound, Miles! I’m simply trying to help my former student. Which should be easy enough—he’s set the bar rather low, simply looking for a friend,” said Myrtle.
Miles said, “He’s just being realistic. After all, Sloan isn’t exactly the local heartthrob.”
“Perhaps. But he does have other good qualities,” said Myrtle. “I don’t think setting someone up with him would be that much of a hard sell.”
Miles parked and they walked inside the crowded diner, past the old men in baseball caps who sat in front every morning drinking coffee and cutting up. An old bell jangled as they opened the door.
“Oh good,” said Myrtle. “It’s crowded, but I don’t think we’ll have to wait to be seated. There’s a booth right over there.”
Sure enough, a waitress with ‘Jen’ on her nametag hurried over to seat them. “Know what you want, hon?” she asked.
It was a good guess, since Myrtle was such a regular that she had no need to study the menu. “A pimento cheese slaw dog, please. With fries.”
Miles actually studied the menu thoughtfully. “A veggie plate, please.”
“Three or four veggies?” asked Jen, pen hovering over her order pad.
“Go for it, Miles. You only live once,” said Myrtle.
“Four. The peach slices, rice and gravy, corn pudding, and fried okra.”
Jen rushed off to get their orders in and Miles said, “I have the feeling that my order isn’t as healthy as it could be. It might even have more calories than your pimento cheese slaw dog.”
“Well, not if you count my fries. At least it will taste good. At this point in my life, I’m trying to avoid bland food. If I’m eating, the stuff should taste good,” said Myrtle. She glanced across the room and started waving at someone. “It’s Elaine! With Jack.”
Elaine walked up to them with a smile and with Myrtle’s grandson, Jack, in tow. Despite spending much of her day on the floor with a preschooler, she looked remarkably tidy in appearance with her smooth, black bob of hair, white Capri pants, and crisp blue top. Jack, who was a very busy nearly-three-year-old, was wearing brown overalls and a big smile. He handed a toy truck to Myrtle.
Myrtle drove it on the table for a minute, making impressive truck noises, before handing it back to him. “Won’t you sit with us?” she asked Elaine. “I think we took the last free table.”
“Thanks, but we’re just here to pick up our takeout. They’re not quite finished, so I’ll hang out here until it’s ready,” said Elaine. “I meant to call you to see how you and Miles were after your traumatic day. Red said you were fine.”
Myrtle made a face. “How would Red know? Never mind, Elaine. We’re fine, aren’t we Miles?”
Miles nodded. “Myrtle and I have become quite accustomed to discovering dead bodies. It’s not at all traumatic for us now.”
Jen brought their food and Myrtle handed a French fry to Jack, who grinned at her again. “Fry,” said the little boy in a whisper.
Myrtle said, still smiling back at her grandson, “But I’m glad to see you, Elaine, because I did have a question for you. Are you and Jack still going on those nature walks from time to time?”
Elaine said, “Oh, yes. And I’m getting lots of inspiration for my yard during those walks. Did Red tell you that I’ve taken up gardening? Well, I guess I’ve always done some gardening and dabbled in garden club and that kind of thing. But now I’m really trying to do some real landscaping.”
Myrtle and Miles exchanged a quick, wary look. Elaine had a multitude of hobbies and none of them ever went according to plan.
“I even had some landscaping ideas for your yard, Myrtle, if you wanted to let me have a go at it,” said Elaine eagerly.
Myrtle figured that Elaine couldn’t make the yard worse than it already was, considering it was under Dusty’s tender ministrations. “That sounds lovely, dear. But what I wanted to ask is if you were on a nature walk yesterday, specifically.”
Elaine said, “Jack and I were, actually. Lyle was supposed to go over identifying poisonous plants and I wanted to make sure that I could recognize poison ivy and poison oak and sumac. The whole thing was going to be a challenge because I had Jack with me; I wasn’t sure how I was going to get close enough to really study the poison ivy without getting Jack covered with it. Then I thought, ‘Oh! I’ll just use my cell phone to zoom in and take pictures. Then I’ll have the photos to refer to later.’”
Miles said, “And the nature walk went as planned?” He speared several bits of fried okra on his fork.
Elaine shook her head. “No, as a matter of fact, it didn’t. We’d just gotten going when it started pouring down rain.”
Myrtle and Miles looked at each other. It was the same rainstorm they experienced when they were driving Clara to look for Neil.
Myrtle said, “I suppose the rest of the walk was canceled?”
“Rescheduled. I persuaded Lyle to cover the poisonous plants another time, since I really wanted a primer,” said Elaine. “It was a shame. Jack really needed a good walk yesterday, too.”
“What do you think of Lyle Solomon?” asked Myrtle. She gave Jack another French fry and watched him gobble it up.
Elaine shrugged. “He seems very knowledgeable. But he’s a little weird, too. I get the impression that caring for his yard is a tremendous part of his life. He really didn’t want to have to cancel because of the rain, but everyone was leaving.”
Myrtle said archly, “So if Lyle were using the nature walk as an alibi for Neil Albert’s death, then the alibi is no good.”
Elaine looked startled and didn’t notice Jack taking a fistful of Myrtle’s French fries and stuffing them into his mouth. “What? No. Why would Lyle want to kill Neil?”
“Why would he give a false alibi?” asked Myrtle with a shrug.
“And a pretty gutsy one at that,” said Miles. “Lying when the police chief’s own wife could negate his alibi.”
Elaine said, “Obviously he didn’t want anybody to think that he might have done it. But I still don’t understand why he would do it. This is a guy who only cares about nature and spending time in it. He doesn’t really seem like the violent type.”
“Have you ever paid attention to Neil’s yard?” asked Myrtle, raising her eyebrows.
Elaine frowned in thought. “Well ... not especially. I’m usually so distracted when I drive down our street. Jack always seems to become ravenous as soon as he’s in the car. I’m ordinarily fishing around for a bag of Cheerios or something, instead of studying the state of people’s yards. But I think I’ve noticed that Neil’s yard isn’t exactly manicured. Is that what you’re getting at?”
“Precisely!” said Myrtle, thumping her hand emphatically on the table. When Jack looked at her in amazement at the sound she made, she gave him the remainder of her French fries as reparation.
“Why would that offend Lyle?” asked Elaine. “He’s not the yard police.”
“You may not know this, but Lyle Solomon lives directly next door to Neil,” said Miles helpfully.
“Ohhh,” said Elaine. She paused, and then nodded. “I see. Well, in that case, I hate to be the one who completely ruins Lyle’s alibi, but he was not on a nature walk yesterday. At least, not with any of his group. Perhaps he took a solo walk?”
A woman at the register called out, “Clover? Order ready to go!”
“That’s us!” said Elaine. “Let’s go take it home, Jack. Aren’t you hungry?” She gazed at her son in bafflement.
Jack shook his head. Myrtle winked at him.
Thirty minutes later, Myrtle and Miles were quite full, themselves. Myrtle had decided to order the peach cobbler to make up for the fact that she’d not eaten any French fries. “So, have we decided?” demanded Myrtle.
Miles started up the car. “Decided what?”
“Where we’re heading off to next. Are we going to follow up with Lyle and ask why he lied about where he was last night? Will we scrounge up Tarleton and find out more about his public squabble with Neil over his job?” asked Myrtle. “Should we check back in with Clara and see how Dusty did with her lawn and if she’s remembered anything else that could be helpful?”
Miles said, “How about none of the above? That so-called healthy lunch did me in. I feel a nap coming on.”
“We can’t nap while there’s a murder to solve!”
“All right then, why don’t we go back to your house and watch Tomorrow’s Promise while I digest my food and try staying awake?” said Miles. “I don’t think I’ll be good for anything until I’ve rested for a little while.”
“I suppose so,” said Myrtle.
They settled into Myrtle’s living room, Myrtle in her comfy armchair and Miles looking very drowsy on the sofa. They were just hearing Arlena tell Rohan that she didn’t love him when the doorbell rang.
Myrtle frowned. “Guests during Tomorrow’s Promise? Must not be someone who knows me very well.”
She walked to the door and peeked out the side window. She turned to give Miles a startled look and then quickly opened the door. “Tarleton Fleming! What a pleasure to see you! Please come inside. I was just thinking the other day that it’s been a long while since I’ve seen you.”
A graying man with faded good looks stepped inside. His shoulders were stooped as if he carried the weight of the world on them, and his face seemed to reflect the same. As usual, he wore good quality clothing that had seen better days, but which were scrupulously preserved and cleaned.
“Miss Myrtle! It’s so good to see you.” He peered across the room and saw Miles quickly rising to his feet. “And Mr. Bradford? Good to see you, too.”
“Yes, Miles and I were just watching our favorite soap opera,” said Myrtle.
“And call me Miles, please,” said Miles. He added in a splutter, “I wouldn’t ordinarily watch a soap opera, but there is this one particular storyline that has me hooked.”
Myrtle rolled her eyes at him. “Whatever.” Then she took Tarleton by the arm and led him over to the sofa. “Won’t you have a seat? Maybe I can have the opportunity to get you hooked on a soap opera?”
Tarleton smiled at her. “I’d love that, but I really can’t today. I just wanted a few minutes of your time and then I’ll get out of your hair.” He hesitated. “This is very hard for me. Perhaps it’s good that both of you are here so that I won’t have to repeat myself at Miles’s house—I’m sure I’d have ended up there. You see, I’ve found myself unemployed.”
Myrtle saw the effort with which it took him to say the words and hurriedly interjected, “I’ve just found out about that. I’m so sorry. It sounded like it all must have been very unfair?”
The last bit was definitely a question and she wondered if Tarleton would answer it. He appeared very reluctant to talk about the bank. Actually, he appeared very reluctant to talk, at all. He seemed generally embarrassed.
Tarleton nodded. “Yes, although we all know that life isn’t fair. At least, we know it by the time we’ve reached our ages. I’d arranged for a job for a new neighbor of ours—you probably know him. Neil Albert.”
Myrtle said, “Yes. Although I suppose we should say, under the circumstances, that we knew him. You’ve heard about his tragic death yesterday?”
Tarleton flushed. “I have. I heard about it right away because I was visiting with someone else and they knew about it. It’s the small-town information network.”
Miles said glumly, “The gossip here is faster than the internet.”
Myrtle shot him a repressive look. “So you were visiting someone last night? When it happened?”
Tarleton shifted a bit. “No. I heard about it first thing this morning, when word was just breaking. Last night I was out driving. I needed to de-stress, so I took to the car and went for a ride in the country.”
“And did that help?” asked Miles curiously. “I always think driving is fairly stressful.”
Myrtle gave him another repressive look.
“It did, but only for a short while. That’s when I decided that I needed to be proactive instead of wallowing around in my unhappiness. Which is why I’m here,” said Tarleton.
He seemed to be on the verge of changing the subject, which was the last thing that Myrtle wanted. She said, “I’m shocked about the bank. Positively shocked. Whenever I thought of the bank, I thought of you.”
She was now shocked to see tears welling in Tarleton’s eyes. Myrtle, who had a horror of seeing people cry, quickly rummaged around for the tissues in her purse.