A Body at Book Club (Myrtle Clover Mysteries) (17 page)

“I think he’s just tired,” said Myrtle brusquely. “Listen, Erma. This could be important.”

Erma gave a big sway this time and Myrtle resisted any impulse to try to steady her. Erma was big enough to pull Myrtle to the ground with her and Myrtle didn’t fancy a broken hip at this time. Erma caught herself and tried to arrange her features into a focused expression. “Okay. What is it?”

“The garden club luncheon that we just recently had…do you remember much about it?”

“You didn’t go,” said Erma in a loud voice. “Don’t you like garden club anymore?”

Several book club members glanced in their direction.

Myrtle said in a hushed voice that she hoped Erma would replicate, “I like it fine, Erma. I’ve just been busy. Now, can you remember who you sat next to at the luncheon?”

“I sure can. I sat next to Naomi Pelter. She was fascinated (Erma slurred the word almost beyond recognition) when I told her all about my kidney stones. Hung on every word.”

“Oh, I’m
sure
she must have.” Myrtle said. “And can you recall, Erma, who was on the other
side
of Naomi?”

Erma swayed a little again and her eyes glazed a bit. “Myrtle, thinking about gardening. Have you noticed that my grass is dying near the fence? What do you make of it?”

“Oh, that crabgrass? I think it might be afflicted with that virulent crabgrass disease that I heard about on the national news. A terrible thing. You should replace it with sod.”

Erma frowned. “I watch the national news, too. I didn’t see any stories on crabgrass disease. I thought that crabgrass was like cockroaches—they’d be the last things in the world to die in the case of nuclear holocaust.”

Erma butchered most of the words that came out of her mouth now. Myrtle felt a sense of desperation to get the information she needed before Erma was a lost cause.

“I watch PBS, Erma. The hour-long news program. And I can promise you that they spoke at great length on the tragic crabgrass disease that is sweeping our country. Now, do you remember who sat on the other side of Naomi at the garden club luncheon?”  Myrtle kept her voice low and it came out with a hiss.

Erma’s features brightened as she remembered. “Why, Maxine Tristan!  Our hostess!  She sat on the other side of Naomi at the luncheon. And she kept getting up the whole time!”

Erma’s voice was booming and it carried, even in a room of loud laughter. Myrtle gave a nervous glance over her shoulder and was horrified to see Maxine standing very close. But what had she heard? Maxine’s face reflected nothing.

“Do you ladies need anything else to eat or drink? Miss Myrtle, you haven’t gotten anything to drink yet.” Maxine gave her a smile.

“I’m not very thirsty, but thanks,” said Myrtle giving her a return smile. Apparently, her conversation with Erma was over because suddenly the woman lurched out of the room in the direction of the restroom.

Maxine’s eyes twinkled. “This is the best book club ever!”

“Hadn’t we better get started, though? I’m worried that the members won’t be able to function in another few minutes. Shouldn’t we get the auction going? Has everyone placed a bid?”

Maxine gave Myrtle an amused expression. There was something else there, too, something Myrtle couldn’t really put a finger on.

Maxine cleared her throat and lifted her head to call across the room, “Has everyone placed a bid in the silent auction? Everyone who was going to, that is?”  She paused and everyone in the room seemed to be staring at Myrtle. Myrtle shook her head to indicate that she wasn’t placing one. No one made a move toward the table.

“All right, then. In that case, as hostess, I will state that the auction is closed.” Maxine clapped her hands together to emphasize her words. “Now, let’s find out who had the highest bid. Unless Claudia, as our esteemed treasurer wants to?” Claudia shook her head violently. Maxine nodded, and then strode to the table and leaned over it, glancing at the bids. Everyone in the room watched her with big eyes. Claudia Brown hiccupped again.

“And the winner is.…” Maxine mischievously glanced around her to raise the tension as she paused. “Miles Bradford!”

There was both applause and long faces. “No worries,” called out Maxine. “I think we’ll have to do this again. This was too much fun to have it be a one-off. Miles, would you like to tell us all the title for the next book club meeting? We’re all waiting with bated breath.”

Miles was still sitting solemnly in his spot, looking a bit sleepy. He stood up. “Um, yes. The title of the book we’ll be reading for our next meeting is by William Faulkner. It’s
The Sound and the Fury
.”

Dead silence greeted this announcement. Myrtle smiled. A wide grin spread across Maxine’s face.

Chapter Seventeen

Then everyone turned to look at Myrtle.

“What is it?” asked Myrtle innocently.

“You put Miles up to that!” said Tippy Chambers, icily.

Myrtle decided it would be wise not to definitively answer any allegations or make any defense. “Miles simply has good taste. Faulkner is a classic,” she said. “He’s probably one of the most famous Southern writers we’ve got. I’m thrilled we’re going to read him in book club.”

Tippy looked as if her head hurt. “I read Mr. Faulkner in college,” she said slowly. “I didn’t understand a word. Didn’t he write in…what was it? Unconsciousness?”

“Stream of consciousness. Yes, that’s his narrative style in
The Sound and the Fury
.” Several book club members glared at her. “I might have read it before,” Myrtle said with a small shrug. “I’m a former English teacher, y’all. I will tell you that I think you’ll enjoy the stream of consciousness. It’s going to show the mental workings of a character who, like Winnie the Pooh, has very little brain. And who doesn’t like Pooh?”

Miles, intoxicated though he was, furrowed his brow to indicate that Myrtle’s analogy was something of a stretch. But Myrtle had the feeling that if she tried to hook the club members on the fact that the book’s title came from a famous soliloquy in Shakespeare’s
Macbeth
, she was going to get nowhere.

“So we’re reading Pooh?” asked Claudia hopefully. “I like the idea of rereading books from my childhood.”

Everyone stared at Claudia.

Tippy, struck a bit more sober by her horror of the book club selection, said, “Maxine? What
exactly
was in that iced tea?”

Maxine gave her a wolfish grin. “Whatever do you mean, Tippy?”

“You know what I mean!  Look at how dippy everyone is acting. I think you spiked that tea.” Tippy glowered at Maxine through narrowed eyes.

The members gave Tippy a somewhat irritated look at being called dippy.

Claudia started to howl. It was a ghastly sound, punctuated by hiccups as it was. “Oh! But I don’t drink!”

Miles rubbed his temples as if he were trying to think it through. “So…we’ve all had quite a bit to drink.”

Claudia cried louder and Myrtle rolled her eyes.

“Not
everyone
, no. But it appears as though everyone but Miss Myrtle and I have had too much.”

“I thought it was the best punch ever,” wailed Claudia.

“I think I know why you don’t drink,” said Maxine with a sigh. “Don’t waste tears over something like this, Claudia. I’ll get you safely home. And if you take an aspirin, drink a glass of water and have a little something to eat, then you’ll be perfectly fine. I only thought to add a little pizazz to our special meeting,” said Maxine innocently. “I made the teas Long Island Iced Teas in celebration.”

A collective groan rose from the assembled.

“But not to worry!  I will be driving home everyone who feels they need a ride. And then coming back to consume the remainder of the tea, myself.” She gave a husky laugh. “Miss Myrtle doesn’t appear to have drunk anything either, so she could drive some folks home in their car and then they could walk to her house later on to collect their vehicle.”

There were no takers. You could hear crickets. Myrtle gritted her teeth. She was a
good
driver. And she never drove a hair over thirty-five. Discrimination against the elderly. Again.

While everyone was arranging to either walk home or have Maxine take them, Myrtle thoughtfully watched Maxine.

Only Miles took Myrtle up on her offer of a ride home. And she had a feeling that Miles had only agreed because he thought she’d be mad if he didn’t. “How are you feeling?” asked Myrtle, glancing at Miles as he sat in the passenger seat. “You’ve been very quiet the whole time.”

“Alcohol makes me sleepy,” he said with a sigh. “Or, at any rate, liquor makes me sleepy. I don’t have the issue with wine as much.” He clutched his door with a tight grip.

Myrtle decided to graciously overlook the fact that Miles was nervous at being a passenger with her. “Well, our plan was a success, anyway. Aren’t you glad about that?”

A grin spread across Miles’s face. “I am. I really am. It was hard not to grin like a crazy man when Maxine announced that I had the winning bid. Faulkner!  We get to read Faulkner in book club.” He beamed.

“Yes, indeed, a tremendous success. A good thing, because you know we’ll never be able to pull that off again. Ever. Now that they know you’re on Team Myrtle, even if they
do
have another silent auction, they’ll be bidding up into the stratosphere to ensure that you and I are shut down. So we’d better enjoy our Faulkner. The best we can hope for is that they see the error of their ways after they read
The Sound and the Fury
and start adding more classical literature into the mix.” Myrtle carefully pulled up into Miles’s driveway. “How much did you have to invest to ensure the highest bid?”

Miles looked a bit glum once again. “Fifty-five dollars.”

“Well.” Myrtle cleared her throat. “That’s a nice donation to a worthy cause.”

“Did we ever find out what the cause was?” asked Miles, looking sideways at her.

“Uh…no. No, we didn’t. But I’m sure it’s something good. Good causes usually are good, after all.”

Miles nodded. Then he rubbed his forehead. “I’m already starting to get a headache. How ridiculous. I’d have been eating more hors d’oeuvres if I’d thought I was actually drinking.” He sighed, and then glanced over at Myrtle. “So what did you find out? I saw you talking with Erma. I knew if you kept talking to her, it must mean you were getting some information. And I didn’t see you scratching your head.”

“Yes. She remembered very clearly, apparently. Maxine sat on Naomi’s other side. Although apparently, she was out of her seat a lot. I guess she was talking with other garden club members or going to the ladies room or getting more drinks or something.”

“Is that what you really think?” asked Miles, gazing at her.

Myrtle shook her head. “No, unfortunately. I rather like Maxine, but I think she was up and down and walking around so that people would have a harder time remembering that she sat there. To put some distance between herself and Naomi.”

“Who would put Naomi and Maxine next to each other anyway?” grunted Miles. “I thought they couldn’t stand each other.”

“I think that’s the point,” said Myrtle slowly. “I think that’s what Claudia was saying in her very vague way. Maxine rearranged those place cards. No one in their right mind would put those two next to each other.”

Miles was quiet for a few moments, taking it all in. “Why else would she want to rearrange the place cards? What other reason would she have to want to sit next to Naomi Pelter?”

Myrtle looked at him. “I can’t think of any.”

Miles nodded. “But of course we have no proof. So we can’t call Red and tell him what you’re thinking. So this seems like a good time…for a nap.”

“I might even put my feet up, myself. Here, I’ll leave the car here in your driveway and walk home. Got my cane right here.”

Miles frowned. “Weren’t you carrying something with you when you arrived at book club?”

Myrtle tilted her head to remember and then growled, “The silly dip and chip dish. I leave that thing every time I go anywhere. Oh well, I guess I’ll get it back later.”

“Someone must have dropped you off. You wouldn’t have been able to walk over there with a dip and chip dish in one hand and a cane in your other.”

“Elaine did. On her way out to run errands. We figured you’d just give me a ride back. It’s okay. I won’t need the container until next book club anyway.” Myrtle climbed out of the car and headed briskly home. “See you later,” she called over her shoulder. “Be sure to drink water!”

Myrtle fed Pasha, who seemed pleased to see her. Then she decided to indulge by reading some of
The Sound and the Fury
. She just happened to have a well-worn copy beside her bed. Pasha decided to curl up next to her leg as she put her feet up to read.

She’d made it through the first fifty pages when her doorbell rang. Pasha growled and Myrtle frowned. “Who could that be? Seems like I saw everyone I knew at that book club meeting.”

Pasha ran under the bed as Myrtle grabbed her cane and moved to the door. She peered out the side window and saw Maxine there. Maxine saw her and smiled and held up the dip and chip dish. Myrtle hesitated. She did think that Maxine was behind Naomi’s death. But wouldn’t it seem even odder if Myrtle didn’t open the door? Wouldn’t that make Maxine even more suspicious? After all, Maxine didn’t really know she was onto her. She was going to be prepared, though. “One second, Maxine!  One second.” She seized her cane.

Where was her pepper spray? Myrtle’s breath hissed out in an angry sigh as she checked her pocketbook and on the bedside table. Nothing. Must have laid it down somewhere. She hurried to the kitchen and grabbed a knife, instead. Then she returned to the front door.

Myrtle forced a smile and slowly unlocked the door. “Maxine,” she said in as friendly a voice as she could muster. “That’s awfully kind of you to bring my dish by. But you didn’t have to—I could have gotten it later on.” She propped her cane against the wall and held out that hand for the dish.

Maxine moved forward, “Oh, I’ll bring it in, Miss Myrtle. I wanted to have a little visit.”

“Now isn’t a good time,” said Myrtle firmly. She pushed back. “But thanks for the dish.” She kept her hand stretched out for the dish.

“
I
think it’s a good time,” said Maxine. And the younger woman pushed her way through into the house, closing the door behind her.