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Miles shoved his puzzle away as if eager to put it out of his sight. “I think I want to mull this all over. Just to get things set in my head.”
Myrtle glanced at the puzzle. “Or you’re trying to escape your Sudoku.”
“It really is a bad one.”
“You said it was two stars,” said Myrtle.
Miles sighed. “Apparently, I’m not quite as adept at Sudoku as I am at crosswords.”
“Well, perhaps you can apply your talents to the case before you head home. Let’s see. Liam was really our best suspect, but I suppose we can count him out unless we’re cursed with two killers in this tiny town.”
Miles nodded. “Right.”
“So let’s start with Liam, our most recent murder. Who might have wanted to do away with our local lawyer?” asked Myrtle.
“Tripp was right there,” pointed out Miles helpfully.
“Very true. He was there and he was up to no good. But why would he have killed Liam? Unless Liam was trying to blackmail Tripp.”
Miles added eagerly, “And Tripp didn’t have any money. Not only is he jobless but he has a drug habit.”
“I can’t say I understand why Tripp would have called the police, though. Wouldn’t he have just wanted to slip away into the darkness? The whole thing looked suspicious, after all.”
Miles said, “So who else do we have? Carter? He was arguing with Liam.”
“Or not, if we’re to believe Carter.”
“Orabelle? She was arguing with Liam, too,” said Miles.
“But she just explained that. And it sounded like a reasonable-enough explanation.” Myrtle frowned. “I feel like there’s something there that I’m missing, though. I’ll have to have a think about it all later.”
Miles was still mentally scrolling through the rest of the suspects. “Pansy?”
“I suppose Pansy might have known Darren left her something in his will. And, by all accounts, Pansy has certainly fallen on hard times.”
Miles said, “Maybe Pansy killed Darren and Liam knew it and she had to get rid of Liam, too.”
“Although it’s a bit hard for me to see Pansy stuffing good-sized men out of office windows,” said Myrtle.
“Which takes me back to Tripp. Tripp also needed money and was rejected by Darren. Maybe Tripp, high on drugs, took his anger out on his uncle when he wouldn’t give him money. Then Liam knew something, tried to blackmail him, and Tripp pushed him out of the window out of desperation.”
Myrtle sighed. “It certainly makes the most sense. Although I rather like Tripp. And here he is on the cusp of changing his life for the better and having a fresh start.”
“It’s not like you to be sentimental, Myrtle.”
“No, it’s not. Maybe it’s because I taught him long ago and would like to see him finally make something of his life. He had a good deal of promise in school. Even though he didn’t choose friends well and wasn’t disciplined, he was smart.”
Miles said, “What about Orabelle? We just heard her say she’d had dreams of traveling and didn’t have the funds to make it happen. Maybe she acted out when Darren denied her money for carrying out her dreams. After all, hitting someone over the head with a flashlight sounds like an impetuous attack and not something anyone planned out. Maybe it was a heat-of-the-moment thing and then Liam found out and she had to do away with him, too.”
“Maybe,” said Myrtle. “Although how is Liam finding out all this information in our scenarios?”
“He must have come by Darren’s house that morning. After all, Darren mentioned clippings to me and they weren’t there when we arrived.”
“But why did Liam go there? To retrieve the clippings? That means Darren must have called Liam, as well. It sounds like Darren was a very popular person the morning he died. We have Tripp asking him for money. Now we have a supposed visit by Liam. And Darren reached out to you to invite you over. He must have been fairly reeling with visitors,” said Myrtle.
“He must have been. And we haven’t even talked about Carter yet.”
Myrtle made a face. “Carter should have realized how wonderful Orabelle was much earlier. He gets points off for chasing Pansy for far too long. But I suppose he’s redeeming himself now.”
“So Carter could have gotten a call from Pansy,” said Miles.
“That morning Darren died?”
“Sure. Or, well, that’s a lot to attribute to a single morning. Maybe Pansy called Carter, upset, the night before. Then Carter stews about it overnight, and first thing in the morning he can’t stand it anymore and goes storming off to confront Darren.”
“Right. To confront Darren over the fact that he doesn’t deserve Pansy, that he’s being mean to her because Darren simply treasures his alone time.” Myrtle snorted. “So you’re saying Carter got carried away, hit Darren over the head with the flashlight, and left. Liam sees him or knows something and then ends up arguing with Carter later—maybe pressuring Carter for money. Carter pushes Liam out of his office window to solve the problem. I think Carter’s office is even in that same building, isn’t it?”
“Most of the offices in town are,” agreed Miles.
Myrtle sighed. “There’s something there. I just can’t pinpoint what it is.” She glanced at her crosswords. “I think I’m going to let my subconscious work on it while I struggle through a crossword. Want to join me? I’m going to sit in my backyard.”
Miles stood up. “No, I think I need to turn my mind totally off. I’m going to head home and watch something mindless on TV. Once I can figure out what show actually qualifies as vapid enough. I’m not sure I’ve watched anything truly mindless before.”
“Well, give Puddin a call. She’s sure to be able to give you the lowdown in terms of what stupid shows she recommends.”
Once Miles left, Myrtle sat outdoors. As she thought through the cryptic clues for the puzzle she was working on, her gaze drifted around her yard and the slope heading down to the lake. Dusty had either pulled out a few gnomes for her backyard enjoyment, or had simply run out of steam and never transported them the rest of the way to the front yard.
She filled in an answer on the crossword and then glanced around the yard again. Wanda was right about those weeds. They were encroaching on her yard from Erma’s. And Dusty had obviously completely forgotten her request to spray. There were also dandelions which were about as tough as kudzu to get rid of. Myrtle scowled at the weeds. She thought about spraying them while her mind was on them, but realized the sun was too low in the sky. The last thing she wanted was for Erma’s lackadaisical attitude toward weeds to result in a sprained ankle on Myrtle’s part by taking a misstep in the yard. Annoyed, she took a deep breath and turned her attention back to the puzzle.
After a few minutes, Pasha came up to her with a purr. She’d apparently been hanging out in the middle of a row of hostas. The black cat rubbed against Myrtle’s leg and then gave Myrtle a fetching look.
“Brilliant Pasha!” crooned Myrtle. “You want a snack, don’t you?”
The cat’s eyes danced in response.
“Let’s go inside and open up some tuna,” said Myrtle. On the way in, she brought in the weed sprayer as a reminder to call Dusty the next day.
Pasha ate all the tuna Myrtle put out while Myrtle answered several more clues on the puzzle. Then the cat decided to curl up in Myrtle’s lap in the living room. This was an occasional, but always unexpected treat from the feral animal. Myrtle turned on the television and pulled up her recorded shows. There was a British police series that seemed good.
However, the series was too good and Myrtle was far too comfortable in the chair with Pasha’s furry warmth. The hours passed and Myrtle watched show after show. She was convinced she knew the identity of the show’s murder and was determined to watch until they uncovered the truth and her suspicion was finally validated.
So it was quite late and Myrtle was quite startled when there was a knock on the door. Myrtle frowned, pulling her robe closer around her as she headed to the door.
Pasha was even more startled and instantly hopped down, fur puffing out. Her eyes narrowed at the door.
“It’s probably Miles,” Myrtle said in a comforting voice to the cat. Pasha crept over to stand behind a chair and peered menacingly from the side. It didn’t bode well for Miles, if it was indeed Miles at the door.
But it wasn’t. It was Pansy.
Myrtle hesitated and then opened the door just a crack. First Erma, now Pansy. Really, it was unforgiveable that people were trying to horn in on her insomnia.
Pansy winced and smiled at her apologetically. “Sorry, Myrtle. I couldn’t sleep tonight and decided to go for a walk. I saw all your lights were on and know you frequently stay up late.”
Myrtle said with dignity, “I don’t stay up late. I have insomnia.” Although tonight was definitely a case of staying up late, Pansy didn’t need to know that. “And I’m terribly sorry, Pansy, but I was just about to try to turn in.” Behind her, Pasha gave a low growl and a shiver went up Myrtle’s spine.
Pansy said brightly, “Oh, this will only take a second, I promise. I’d just love to borrow that book you mentioned. You know, now that I’m getting back into reading after all this time.”
Myrtle raised her eyebrows. “I’m not sure that I mentioned a specific book. Just that I had a lot of good ones. But finding one that will be a good match for you may take time and tomorrow would be better for that.” She glanced through the door at the darkness beyond. “You’re really very brave to be walking around out there with a murderer on the loose.” Although Myrtle nearly substituted stupid for brave.
Pansy shrugged and said, “I guess, although I feel better holding this flashlight. After Darren died, I went right to the hardware store and purchased one. It hadn’t occurred to me that flashlights could be used to protect oneself.”
Myrtle shoved at the door to close it. No one knew what the weapon was. But Pansy shoved back, as hard as she could and pushed her way inside.
Pasha gave a low, moaning growl again.
Pansy said cheerfully, “Myrtle, you’re acting quite menacing. I have to wonder what’s behind that.”
“What’s behind that is crankiness at not being able to turn in. I’ll be back to my lovely, amiable self tomorrow.” Myrtle put her hands on her hips.
Pansy said, “It’s just that I had a revelation earlier, after we spoke. And, of course, just now, too.”
In Pansy’s still-cheery voice, Myrtle heard a note of intimidation.
“Did you?” asked Myrtle. She moved toward the front door, but Pansy blocked her way.
“I did. I mentioned something about the clippings and I saw an odd expression cross your face. It took me a while to decipher it.”
“Was it boredom?” asked Myrtle sweetly.
“No. It was . . . insight.”
Myrtle suddenly realized what had slipped her mind earlier. “Because you mentioned the clippings but I never mentioned clippings to you: just that Darren had told Miles that he knew something about Liam. Only the person who killed Darren would have known that.”
Pansy smiled at her. “I don’t know why people always underestimate you, Myrtle. You’re the smartest person in this little town. That’s exactly what I realized you’d gleaned from our conversation, even if you didn’t immediately realize it, yourself.”
Myrtle glanced across the room at her phone.
Pansy pushed her in front of her toward the phone until Pansy got her hands on it. “You’re looking for this, Myrtle? Here, let me take it.”
Pansy submerged it into Myrtle’s glass of ice tea while Myrtle fumed. Pansy gave her an innocent smile and then tipped her head back in a laugh.
Pasha, either upset by Pansy pushing Myrtle or upset by the shrillness laugh, launched herself, spitting and hissing, claws extended, at Pansy.