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MARIGOLD RAISED AN eyebrow. “Well, I’m certainly not calling her.”
Miles hurriedly said, “Don’t look at me. I’m trying to keep my distance.”
“Then I shall do it myself. Which is always the way to do things if you want them done right, anyway.” Myrtle pulled out her cell phone and peered at her contacts list.
Miles said, “Don’t you think she might have turned in by now?”
“I don’t. She just had quite a disturbing experience. She might be in bed, but I know she’s not sleeping.”
Sure enough, Eloise answered the phone with alacrity, sounding fully awake and alert. “Myrtle? Is everything okay?”
“It’s just fine, Eloise. But I realized just a minute ago that you never talked about what happened to Jax. You mentioned that you’d gone over there for a late visit and spoke about your relationship with him. But you didn’t talk about a cause of death.”
Eloise said, “Didn’t I?” She hesitated. “Red told me not to tell anyone what I’d seen.”
Myrtle walked out of earshot of the others. “I’m the only one you should tell. But don’t say a word to anyone else.”
“I suppose it’s all right since you’re Red’s mother. Anyway, it was the weirdest thing. He was covered by some sort of beverage—it was all over him.”
“A beverage? What, like a glass of water?”
“It was probably coffee or tea because there was a mug nearby. And he was slumped on the floor right next to his kitchen counter.”
Myrtle said, “But this doesn’t sound like foul play at all, does it? It sounds like he had a heart attack, convulsed, spilled his coffee or tea or whatever, and then fell to the floor. It’s unlikely that Red would have called in the state police if it hadn’t been a suspicious death, though.”
“There was blood on the floor, around his head. Maybe that’s why?”
Myrtle said, “What kind of counter does he have? You said he was by the counter.”
“It’s granite.”
“Hmm,” Myrtle said. “Maybe he hit his head on the way down.” Now eager to get off the phone as quickly as possible, she added, “Well, thanks for this, Eloise. You know how curious I can be and I wasn’t sure I could sleep tonight if I kept mulling this over.”
“I thought you didn’t sleep most nights.”
“True. But I like to improve the odds. Thanks.”
Myrtle hung up the phone and walked back over to join the others. “She didn’t know what had happened, unfortunately,” lied Myrtle.
Marigold said, “Are we sure Jax was murdered? It just seems so unlikely to me. Couldn’t his death have been from natural causes?”
“I seriously doubt it. And the only reason I can say that with confidence is because Red called the state police.”
Marigold stood up. “Thanks for making the call, Myrtle. Now I’ve just got to try to make myself believe that Jax is really gone.”
Myrtle wasn’t quite ready for Marigold to leave yet. “I was wondering something myself, Marigold.”
Marigold sat back down and looked warily at Myrtle. “Wondering about what?”
“Since it seems Jax was murdered, who do you think might possibly be responsible?”
Marigold considered this. She sighed. “I suppose his daughter, Nicole, but she always sort of gets on my nerves, so perhaps I’m just being ungracious.”
Myrtle said, “I don’t think I know Nicole. What’s she like?”
“Not at all friendly to me,” said Marigold dryly. “It made me wonder if Nicole was worried that I was going to divorce Bailey and marry Jax.”
“Was that something you were considering?” asked Myrtle, raising her eyebrows.
Marigold nodded. “It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. I kept reminding myself that the grass was always greener on the other side of the fence. But I don’t exactly feel close to Bailey and had been sharing more of my life and time with Jax. Anyway, Nicole seems like she is always living above her means or wants to live above them.”
“Big house? Expensive car?” asked Myrtle with curiosity.
“More like fancy vacations and designer clothes and purses. She’s always really flamboyant and dramatic, too, as if she’s on stage the whole time. I don’t feel like I really know her. And she hovered a lot around Jax. She was always popping in to see him and she didn’t leave when I was there. I could tell by the look on her face that she disapproved.”
Miles said, “Maybe she was the kind of daughter who was always going to disapprove, no matter who Jax was seeing. Is she just really overprotective?”
Marigold snorted. “That’s nice of you to say, Miles, but I’m afraid it’s not true. Well, it’s not true that she was overprotective of Jax. But she was definitely overprotective of Jax’s money. That’s the impression she gives, anyway. And I don’t think she likes me one jot. It was driving me crazy. I’d plead with Jax not to answer the door but he’d always let her in.”
Myrtle said, “I’d never gotten the impression that Jax had a lot of money. Or that he cared about it all that much. Didn’t he drive an older model car?”
“Oh, yes. Jax liked to spend money, but on things that gave him pleasure, and those were always the little things. Concerts, movies, hotdogs over at Bo’s Diner. He was a happy-go-lucky man. My happiest times with him were when we’d just hang out on his back porch, listen to music, and we’d eat lunch and laugh. Good times.”
Marigold looked perilously close to tears again, so Myrtle quickly interjected, “But the money? You said Nicole is interested in his money. That implies that he had more than just a little money to play around with.”
Marigold nodded and got a conspiratorial look on her face. She leaned forward as if someone might somehow overhear them in Myrtle’s living room. “Well, that’s something of interest. I’m sure Red will find out at some point. Jax had lived on that three-acre property of his for ages, you know. A real estate developer wants to put an apartment complex there. It would have meant big money for Jax . . . quite a payout, from what I understand.”
Miles nodded. “But Jax didn’t want to sell it.”
“He sure didn’t, no matter how Nicole tried to persuade him. Like I said, he and I were happy to sit on his back porch and look at the water. He wouldn’t have traded that view for a million dollars.”
“Would it have been a million dollars?” asked Myrtle, brows raised.
“Oh yes. It was going to be more, I believe. They kept increasing the amount of their offer after Jax continued turning them down.”
Myrtle said, “He sounds like he was being very sensible to me. When you’re happy somewhere, you shouldn’t mess that up by moving. Nicole had a very good motive, it seems.”
Marigold said, “I certainly think so. I wouldn’t mind that young miss being taken down a peg or two. I’m not saying I want her arrested, mind you, but I sure wouldn’t mind if Red put a little fear into her heart.”
“I’m not sure that Red’s interviews are ever all that frightening,” said Myrtle. “But they might be if you were guilty and thought that you might go to prison.”
“Exactly.” Marigold looked at the rooster clock visible on Myrtle’s kitchen wall. “I should get out of your hair now, Myrtle. Sorry to disturb you two, but thanks for the information.”
Myrtle let her out and then closed and locked the door behind her.
Miles said, “Why do I have the feeling that you got more information from Eloise than you let on?”
“Jax apparently was covered by whatever he was drinking . . . Eloise thought it was tea or coffee.”
Miles said slowly, “But if you were drinking tea or coffee and you did have a medical emergency, it doesn’t seem likely that you’d be covered in it, does it? I mean, was it on his face, too? Or just dribbled down his front?”
Myrtle looked thoughtful. “Good point. Maybe that’s what Red noticed. If he had his drink all over his face, it would seem like someone possibly threw it at him. Maybe that’s what made him think it could be murder.” After a pause, Myrtle added, “This is all very interesting.”
“Which part of it?” asked Miles.
“A couple of parts. First off, Eloise and Marigold’s relationship.”
Miles said, “It doesn’t sound like there really is one.”
“Precisely. Those two actively dislike each other and it seems to revolve around Jax. I wonder if Jax was the type of man who enjoyed playing people off of each other.”
Miles shrugged. “He sounds like the kind of man who really just wanted to do whatever he wanted to do. Maybe he was a mite selfish. He certainly didn’t worry about seeing a married woman and breaking up a marriage. Nor seeing someone who was in a relationship with someone else.”
“Now, there’s no reason to be bitter, Miles. Remember, you didn’t want Eloise to begin with. Anyway, that’s one of the interesting things I got from our conversation with Marigold. The other one is that Nicole sounds like a real piece of work.”
“Either that or Marigold just didn’t like Jax’s daughter very much.”
Myrtle said, “It sounded like Marigold didn’t like Nicole because Nicole didn’t like her. Anyway, it does make sense if Nicole is a big spender and wants Jax’s property to sell to the developer. Imagine what she could do with a million dollars or more? What would you do with that kind of money, Miles?”
Miles shifted in his chair as if the thought of that kind of money made him distinctly uncomfortable. “Well, I suppose I would invest it,” he said stiffly.
“That sounds like lots of fun, Miles.”
Miles shrugged. “I might give some of it away. Wanda could certainly use it.”
Wanda was Miles’s cousin and lived in a hubcap-covered shack with her brother, Crazy Dan. She was also psychic and wrote a horoscope column for the newspaper that was quite popular.
“That’s very generous of you. Wanda would indeed be a worthy recipient. Of course, Crazy Dan is your cousin, as well.”
Miles made a face. “I don’t see myself giving Dan any money. We know he has that hoarding tendency. He’d end up buying things online and stowing them in stacks.” He paused. “What would you do with that kind of money, Myrtle?”
Myrtle said with a smile, “I might set up my own detective agency. Wouldn’t that be fun? Aside from that, though, there really isn’t anything I need.”
“Travel?” broached Miles.
“I do enjoy traveling, but the last couple of times I did it, things could get annoying. I think I’ve become a bit more of a homebody.”
Miles yawned. “Speaking of homebodies, I should be heading back to my own abode. I think I’m feeling sleepy. Aren’t you?”
Myrtle sighed. “I don’t know. That visit with Marigold sort of livened me up again. Maybe I’ll try and lie down for a while and see what happens. Want to come by tomorrow and have breakfast with me?”
Breakfast was ordinarily a safe meal to have with Myrtle. Myrtle’s cooking, at any other time of the day, was something to be feared and avoided at all costs.
“Sure,” said Miles. “Should we play it safe and make it for slightly later? In case we sleep in?”
“Okay,” said Myrtle. “Six-thirty?”
“If you sleep in?”
“You’ll have to check my pulse if I sleep past six. You know that, Miles,” said Myrtle impatiently.
“Well, I believe that I might sleep just a bit later than that, after all the excitement. Let’s make it eight o’clock.”
Myrtle grumbled, “I might be on a second or third breakfast by then.”
Miles did make it over at eight o’clock and Myrtle gave every evidence of having been awake for quite some time. She’d made fluffy pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, and set out some local jam to have with toast.
“This is a feast,” said Miles. He wondered again how Myrtle had been able to master breakfast so successfully, considering her culinary shortfalls at other times of the day.
“I haven’t eaten yet,” said Myrtle. “I decided to just drink coffee. But now the coffee has been sloshing around in my stomach for a few hours and I need something to soak it all up.”
They sat at the kitchen table together. Miles had his sudoku from home and Myrtle was working from her crossword puzzle book since she’d already worked the puzzle in the morning paper. They ate in happy silence for a while. Until there was a knock at the door.
“For heaven’s sake! It’s like Grand Central Station here.” Myrtle got up and stalked to the door, peering out the window. “It’s Red.”
Miles carefully put his fork down. “Uh-oh.”
“I’m sure he’s here to see me. He’s probably found out about that visit I had to Greener Pastures Retirement Home the other day.” Myrtle appeared in no hurry to let Red inside.
“Did you spur another insurrection?” asked Miles.
“Only a minor one. I reminded the poor inmates that they weren’t prisoners over there. They could leave. And they could protest conditions. They had a small parade of cars that went around and around the parking lot with signs for better food.”
Red knocked again, this time a bit louder and harder.
“And how did the parade go?” Miles hid a smile. The insurrections at Greener Pastures never seemed to go exactly as Myrtle imagined them.
“They made quite the impression on the staff, I heard. Until there was a fender-bender.”
“Hmm.”
The doorbell rang several times in a row.
“You’d think Red would have even worse blood pressure than he does,” mused Myrtle. “He gets so excitable sometimes.”
“Perhaps you should let him inside,” suggested Miles. “I don’t fancy the idea of having an angry Red interviewing me.”
Myrtle finally opened the door. Her son was standing there on the doorstep, quite flushed in the face.