A Body at Book Club (Myrtle Clover Mysteries) (12 page)

“Elaine, do you have any errands to run this afternoon? Because I don’t want to make you go out if you don’t have to.”

“Right this second, I would
love
to get out, Myrtle. Jack has acted possessed all day. I don’t know what is going on with the poor guy.” Elaine’s voice was frazzled and sounded a bit sleep-deprived.

A possessed toddler. This didn’t sound good. And somehow Lena Fowler didn’t exactly seem like the kind of woman who took well to screaming toddlers. Myrtle frowned. Elaine seemed to be waiting for a response of some kind from her. What was it she’d been saying? Oh, right—wondering what’s going on with Jack? Myrtle tried to remember the pertinent details of screaming toddlers, but had to reach back in her memory about forty-five years. “Teeth?” she said vaguely.

“Maybe it’s teeth. Or maybe his stomach hurts. I’m just not sure.”

The sounds of unadulterated toddler fury continued. Myrtle adored her grandson. He was a wonderful, wonderful little boy. She loved it when they played with his toy trucks and when she read his favorite book with him. She just wasn’t altogether sure that she wanted to spend time with him under the present circumstances.

“I know what we can do. I can drop you off at your errand and wait in the car. Then we can drive over to the new cross-stitch shop downtown,” said Elaine in a loud voice that could be heard over the screaming.

Myrtle winced. “Cross-stitch?”  Surely Elaine wasn’t trying to foist her latest hobby on Myrtle again? She hadn’t the interest nor the eyesight to make the tiny little
x
s required for cross-stitch.

“I mean—
I
would go into the cross-stitch store and you would stay out in the car. With Jack. You know…so I wouldn’t have to take him in there.”

Judging from the shrieking Myrtle heard in the background, she could only pray that by that time Jack would have fallen asleep in his car seat from sheer exhaustion. “Of course, Elaine. I’d be happy to.”

“What?” asked Elaine over the racket.

“I’d be happy to! Delighted!  Yes!”  Myrtle’s voice rivaled Jack’s in volume.

“See you in ten minutes!” yelled Elaine.

So it was with great trepidation that Myrtle locked her front door behind her, squared her shoulders, and strode toward Elaine’s minivan. But to her relief, Jack beamed at her as soon as she cautiously opened the passenger door.

“What a love! You love to see your Nana, don’t you?”  Myrtle cooed at Jack. Then she carefully settled into the front seat. “What did you do?” she asked Elaine in a low voice. “Perform an exorcism?”

“Just about. I finally figured out that the word he was repeating was crackers. I couldn’t figure out what he was saying through all the howling. Once I gave him some graham crackers, we were A-OK.” Elaine looked over her shoulder as she backed out of Myrtle’s driveway.

“I wish my problems were as easily solved,” said Myrtle gloomily.

Elaine gave her a sympathetic wince. “Red told me you were on the outs with Miles. What happened?”

Myrtle sighed. “Nothing, really. It was all silly. I was in a frustrated mood and I threw an accusation at him.”

Elaine’s eyes widened. “An accusation? Against Miles? What on earth did he do?”

“Well. I told him he didn’t care anything about Pasha.”

Elaine thought on this for a moment. “He probably doesn’t, does he? I think I remember hearing about a couple of occasions when he was viciously attacked by Pasha.”

“Pasha was very protective of me,” said Myrtle stoutly.

“So Miles doesn’t care anything about Pasha,” said Elaine slowly, “but he does care about you. And he cared about your worries and your problems. So, from that viewpoint, he
did
care about Pasha.”

Myrtle pressed her lips together. If there was one thing she disliked, it was being in the wrong. She had snapped at Miles, it was true. Now she supposed she’d have to go to him, hat in hand, and apologize. At some point. It was all very irritating.

Elaine decided to let the topic be, which was just as well since they were pulling into the veterinarian’s office. “All right, so I’ll stay in the car with Jack and you can run in and ask Dr. Fowler about Pasha.”

It was also annoying not to really have a sidekick for these interviews. Perhaps she’d have to make up with Miles earlier than she thought. “What do you think of Lena Fowler, by the way? What’s your impression of her?”

Elaine looked confused. “As a vet, you mean? But we don’t have pets at our house.”

“No, I mean as a person. She’s in garden club and book club with us, you know—what do you think about her?”  Myrtle shifted her cane to help her get out of the van.

“Oh, goodness, I haven’t been to club meetings regularly for so long—you know I can go only on Jack’s preschool days. I mean, I
do
know Lena. But she’s not really in my peer group. I suppose I think that she’s tough, doesn’t suffer fools lightly, smart, no-nonsense. Athletic. And she probably gets along better with animals than she does with people.” Elaine absently handed Jack a sandwich bag full of toasted oats cereal.

Elaine was more perceptive than she thought. It’s a shame Red had been so adamant about Myrtle not being involved in this particular case. Elaine would never consent to acting as a backup sidekick, and it was a pity…she would be a good one.

Chapter Twelve

It was surprisingly quiet in the vet’s office. Usually it was bustling with people. The receptionist didn’t appear to be out front, either. Myrtle frowned.

A bell had sounded on the door when Myrtle walked in, so she figured someone knew she was there. She waited in the reception area for a minute or two. Finally, Lena strode into the reception area. “Oh. Mrs. Clover. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“No staff today?” asked Myrtle, looking around.

“Cindy had to take the afternoon off for a doctor appointment,” said Lena brusquely. “What can I help you with?”

She certainly was one to always get to the point in a hurry. It was usually a trait that Myrtle admired, too. Just not so much when she was trying to get to the bottom of a mystery. Fortunately, Myrtle had the ability to get right to the point, too.

“Was Cindy also gone early this morning? I know your office opens early.”

“We open at six for scheduled surgeries to get those completed before we open the doors for regular appointments,” said Lena smoothly.

“And did you have surgeries this morning?” asked Myrtle.

“As a matter of fact, we didn’t. Too bad, since we had several yesterday and will have a couple tomorrow. Some days it simply works out that way. I wish they could be more spread out.” Lena examined Myrtle through narrowed eyes. “Why are you so curious about my surgery schedule? Have you found Pasha?”

“Not yet. Was Cindy helping this morning, then?”

Lena began to look impatient. “She wasn’t, no. Why would she, with no scheduled surgeries? She came in late as a matter of fact. Why do you want to know?”

“Because Rose Mayfield was murdered early this morning in her home. I was curious where various people were during that time.”

Lena took a small step back from Myrtle as if trying to distance herself physically from the implied accusation. “Well. I’m sorry to hear about Rose. But her death has nothing to do with me. I respected Rose and have known her for years. What possible reason could I have to want her dead?”

Myrtle said in a musing tone, “I suppose the only reason you’d want her dead is if she threatened to expose you for murdering Naomi Pelter. Then Rose would represent a risk to be eliminated.”

Lena stared at her with her large, intelligent brown eyes set in her serious face. “Yes. If I’d murdered Naomi, and Rose indicated she was going to alert everyone, then I suppose I would want her out of the way. Of course, considering I had nothing to do with Naomi’s death, it means that I’d never have murdered Rose.” She gave Myrtle a piercing look. “Does Chief Clover realize that you’re out here nosing around?”

And, with a cold certainty, Myrtle realized the danger that Lena Fowler presented. She was a lot like Myrtle, actually. She had a low tolerance for nonsense. And she’d believe that what Myrtle was doing was nonsense—and, possibly, something potentially harmful to herself. Lena would think nothing of picking up a phone and tersely informing Red that Myrtle was checking into these murders…just to shut Myrtle down.

Myrtle’s realization must have played out on Lena’s face because she said, more gently this time, “Good luck finding Pasha. I know you’re worried about her, but I promise you that she’s probably just fine. Cats can get disoriented if they’re even slightly off their home turf so that’s a possibility. She may not be sure how to get back home to you, even if she’s geographically very close. Or else she might be lying low until the coast is clear. In either case, she’s likely just fine. I’m sure I’ll see you soon. At garden club, maybe?”

Myrtle quickly asked, “Have you gone to the last couple of meetings? I mean, I feel as if I don’t know what’s going on with that club since I haven’t attended for a while.”

Lena gave her a sharp look. “Yes, I’ve happened to make the last couple of meetings—sometimes my schedule unexpectedly opens up.”

“I’ve heard they’re pushing seating arrangements there. That’s one of the reasons I haven’t made it since I don’t want to be forced to sit next to Erma Sherman for an hour or more. Although maybe I could switch place cards with someone. Have you ever noticed anyone doing that?” Myrtle widened her eyes innocently at Lena.

The door chimed behind them and a short, chubby woman walked in carrying a small, excited dog. “I’ll see you soon, Miss Myrtle,” said Lena dismissively, moving to greet the woman.

Unfortunately, Possessed Jack had returned in the interim and Myrtle winced as she got into Elaine’s van. The volume of crying was loud enough that Elaine had opened the windows to let the sound go somewhere other than in their ears. They drove in tense silence (well, except for Jack) to the cross-stitch store. “I’ll be right back,” said Elaine loudly, with an apologetic look at Myrtle. She hurried into the store.

Myrtle opened the passenger door and then tugged at the van’s rear door until it slid open. A tearful Jack blinked at her in surprise. Never one to let even a momentary advantage pass unused, Myrtle said, “Hi there, Jack!  Nana is so glad to see you!  Here, I brought something for you to play with for a few minutes while Mama shops.”

Now she rooted around desperately in her pocketbook for something for Jack to play with. Her hands closed around a small cylindrical object and she pulled it out to find it was Wanda’s pepper spray. She hastily shoved it back into her purse. “One minute, just a minute,” she mumbled, hoping her placating tone would hold Jack off from any future wailing.

Then she pulled out her cell phone. Would Jack even want to play with her phone? She looked doubtfully at it. Elaine had a fancy phone and Jack wasn’t allowed to touch it in case he accidentally reprogrammed it or something. Myrtle’s phone was a basic flip phone that looked like something the dinosaurs might have placed their calls on. She shrugged and handed it over to the toddler. Jack was expecting
something
and Myrtle’s pocketbook didn’t seem to have much magic in it today.

Luckily, Jack seemed mesmerized by the strangeness of the archaic device. He turned it over and over in his hands. Then he discovered that it flipped up to reveal the numbers and he gazed at the device with rapt attention. And the fact that he was hitting buttons like crazy didn’t even worry Myrtle since Red had set up a lock on the phone when he’d gotten it for her. Cops are security conscious like that.

Elaine strode rapidly back toward the car, a worried crease on her forehead and a bag in her hand. Her frown eased when she couldn’t hear screaming emanating from the vehicle. “Miracle worker,” she breathed to Myrtle as she got into the car. Then she looked concerned again. “He’s not dialing China is he?”

“It’s got a lock code on there, so he can dial numbers all day,” said Myrtle. For the first time, she was glad to have the annoying passcode.

“Now we can actually hear ourselves talk,” said Elaine in relief. “Did Lena Fowler have any information about Pasha?”

Myrtle shifted in her seat a bit guiltily. Then she remembered that she and the vet actually had discussed Pasha. In a rather incidental way, but still. “Lena said that Pasha might be lying low until she thinks the coast is clear. That, or else she may be disoriented by being even slightly away from her usual stomping ground. She might not be far away, but ran just far enough to get away from the dogs that she isn’t exactly sure where she is or how to get back.”

“Aren’t there all those stories about cats making incredible journeys back home?” asked Elaine.

“I guess it depends on the cat. Or something. I don’t know…maybe dogs are really the ones who have the internal GPS. Aren’t those usually stories about dogs? Anyway, Lena made me feel a little better.”
That and the fact that Wanda had said that Pasha was okay
. But Myrtle would keep that information to herself. She certainly didn’t need to let Elaine know that she’d gone out to see Wanda.  That was always an indicator that Myrtle was working on a case.

Myrtle peered at Elaine. “How are you doing? This is a real rough patch for being a parent. Late nights, early mornings, uncertain naptimes. Are you holding on to your sanity?”  She summoned her courage and said in a firm voice, “Because if you need a break, of any kind, you know you can always bring Jack by to play with me. Miles was telling me just the other day that I’ve got just as much energy as a toddler. So we know I can keep up with Jack, you see.”

Elaine appeared to be choking up a little, much to Myrtle’s discomfort. She quickly regained control, however, and flashed a smile at Myrtle. “You don’t know how much I appreciate that, Myrtle. Believe me—if I need you, I have no compunction about giving you a call. You know that Jack loves spending time with his Nana. It’s going pretty well…it’s challenging being a mother, but I love it.”

“And you’re keeping up with outside interests, too. With the cross-stitch. That’s so important.”

Elaine said, “I’m trying. Some days I don’t really make any progress with my pattern. There are also the days when I have to pick my pattern up and put it down a million times to keep Jack from pulling down a lamp by the cord or climbing up a bookcase.” She gave a rueful smile.

Myrtle could only imagine what a pattern that had been picked up and put down a lot might look like…if you were a distracted mother. And poor Elaine didn’t have the best track record for arts and crafts.

Elaine gave her a sideways glance. “You mentioned Miles a minute ago. I hope y’all do make up soon. I know what good friends you are. Pasha’s a wonderful cat, but not everyone might understand that. Or even understand cats, period.”

Myrtle nodded. “It all just boiled down to squabbling between friends. Sometimes it happens.” She felt a pang, though, which she quickly suppressed.

“Well, you and Miles do spend a lot of time together. You’re bound to get on each other’s nerves.” Elaine pulled up into Myrtle’s driveway.

“Thanks for driving me out there,” said Myrtle.

“Thanks for calming Jack down,” said Elaine with a sigh. “I think I’m going to try to put him down for a nap as soon as we get home. He’s got to be worn out with all the crying.”

As if on cue, Jack wailed again.

Myrtle discovered that Jack wasn’t the only one who was exhausted from the events of the day. When she started feeling sleepy, she looked at her living room clock to find that it was only eight o’clock. But Myrtle was the last one to turn down an opportunity to sleep on the rare times sleepiness presented itself to her. She stuck another can of tuna outside, even if it ended up being  Chubbster that she fed, and put on her nightgown. She was fast asleep within five minutes.

It was two o’clock in the morning when she awakened. Myrtle was never surprised at waking up at two. It was a standard time when she ordinarily glanced at her bedside table clock. This time, though, her awakening was accompanied by an odd, unsettled feeling. She lay still in her bed, listening intently. Could it be Pasha outside? She’d heard a noise, hadn’t she?

Then Myrtle heard it again. It wasn’t a very catlike sound, though. Pasha wouldn’t be jiggling her back door handle. Was that what she was hearing? Myrtle swung her legs out of bed and slowly stood up, putting her arms through the robe she had placed on the foot of her bed and shoving her feet in a pair of slippers. Her pocketbook was in the armchair near her bed and she rummaged in it for Wanda’s pepper spray. Grabbing it, she pushed her bedroom door wider and peered out.

And saw a hooded figure tugging at her back door as if to open it.