A Body in the Backyard (18 page)

“You know,” said Myrtle in a confiding voice. “I’m glad you came over today. There’s been a couple of different things that I wanted to share with you.”

“Really?” Erma looked surprised and just a wee bit uncomfortable. It was the discomfort factor that Myrtle was going after.

“Yes. One thing I wanted to do was show you some of my old photo albums. Now that Elaine has this interest in photography, it’s made me even more interested in taking a look at some of my own pictures. I think I had quite an eye for composition, and I’m considering taking it back up!” Myrtle gestured to a row of ancient photo albums on the bookcase across the room. “Would you take five or six of those albums out for me?  This shouldn’t take too long—maybe a couple of hours. You have the time to spend with me, don’t you?”

Erma was definitely looking alarmed now. “No, not really. Not right now, Myrtle.”

“Oh, you have some place to go?  How about tomorrow?  Maybe tomorrow afternoon?”

“I’m pretty sure I have another doctor’s appointment tomorrow, Myrtle. Sorry.” Erma stood up and hastily walked toward Myrtle’s kitchen, carrying her dirty glass to put in the sink.

“Well then, the next day, surely. You won’t believe these pictures, Erma. There are some of the cutest pictures of Red you’ve ever seen. You’ll just love them,” said Myrtle.

Erma used a very firm, un-Erma-like voice. “I’m going to have to call you later and let you know when I’ve got time to sit with you and look through albums. It might take a while, though—I’ve been very, very busy lately!”

Now Erma was hurrying to the door. “See you soon, Myrtle. Or, well, if not soon, then some time.”

That was the quickest she’d ever dispatched Erma Sherman. The quickest, at least, when Pasha hadn’t been involved in the process.

Thinking about Pasha made Myrtle miss the cat, who hadn’t been around the house that day. This made her get angry with herself for missing a feral cat. She was sure the cat didn’t miss
her
. She wondered if Pasha was still miffed by the fact that Myrtle had held her against her will in her bedroom during the reception.

Myrtle’s thinking about the reception reminded her about the ham again. She bet the cat really would love some of it. And it still annoyed her that she’d spent so much money on a ham and hadn’t been able to use it. Maybe she’d just freeze the ham. Then she could cut off bits of it later on for a soup…and give a few bites to Pasha, too. Right now, with the case and everything, she just didn’t have time to deal with it, but later she would. She took the ham out of the fridge and put it in the freezer.

That night, Myrtle was visited by her usual insomnia. She might even have had the faintest hint of uneasiness. She looked out her kitchen window into the backyard—with a small degree of apprehension.

It was hard to tell in the dark, and with the grass as tall as it was, but it looked as if something was out there in her yard. The hairs on the back of Myrtle’s neck started rising. No, there was definitely something out there in that same space among the gnomes.

Myrtle held her breath as she fumbled with the light switch beside the door, accidentally turning on both the kitchen light and the grinding garbage disposal, cursing at herself as she did. She finally got the right one and peered anxiously out into the suddenly illuminated yard.

Pasha the cat lay in the spot where the bodies had been. She blinked at Myrtle in the light but showed no inclination to get up. She was glad to see the cat but didn’t want to disturb her from…whatever it was that Pasha was doing out there.

Did the spot smell odd to Pasha?  Was there suddenly good nighttime hunting in Myrtle’s backyard? Or was Pasha, as Myrtle strongly suspected, standing guard?

“Myrtle, I already have a barber,” said Miles coldly.

“Sometimes it’s nice, though, to shake things up a little bit, Miles. You know—to get a different perspective on your hairstyle from another professional,” said Myrtle.

Miles’s voice, coming through the phone, sounded quite icy. “I don’t have a
hairstyle
. My hair is just a standard men’s style. And I just got my hair cut two weeks ago…I don’t need a haircut.”

“It seemed to me that your hair was coming down kind of low over your ears,” said Myrtle judiciously. “You could go to have it shaped up a bit.”

There was a meaningful silence on the other end of the line.

“Oh, come on, Miles. What’s the harm in it?  I’ll even pay for the haircut. If you hate the way this fellow cuts your hair, then it’s going to grow back in a few weeks anyway. I can’t think of another way to talk to Buddy Fenton without visiting his house as a reporter for the paper—and I have a feeling he won’t dish on his old friend Dr. Bass if I’m representing the paper. What do you say?”

“I say that I think my own barber will get mad at me if I see a different barber. Then I’ll really be in a mess,” said Miles. His mind was clearly working overtime.

“Pooh on that! Barbers aren’t like beauticians—they’re not going to be hypersensitive and get their feelings hurt just because you try someplace different,” said Myrtle.

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the phone. “All right, I give up. But this better not end up getting me in trouble with my barber, Myrtle.”

“It won’t,” said Myrtle with satisfaction. “And at least this visit won’t result in some discovered cavities.”

Miles took an instant dislike to the barber as they waited for him to finish up with the client he had in the chair.

“He must have bathed in cologne,” said Miles, wrinkling up his nose.

“He’s a single guy. He’s just trying to make sure he’s attractive to the ladies.”

“In a barbershop?  What ladies is he going to see in here?” asked Miles.

“Well, I’m in here.”

Miles raised his eyebrows. “Yes, and you’re the only one. Besides, how are we going to explain your presence in here?  Are you my mother?”

“Very funny. I’m not old enough to be your mother, as you well know.” Actually, that wasn’t entirely true, so she kept breezily talking, “We’ll tell the barber that you’re not really driving anymore and rely on me for rides.”

Miles gave her a baleful look.

 “He’s not going to ask anyway. Why would he care that I’m here or what my relationship to you is?” asked Myrtle.

Apparently, however, that was just what Buddy Fenton was interested in. He immediately remarked that Myrtle was the first woman he’d seen in the shop for the last couple of weeks. “Are you just coming along to make sure he gets enough taken off?” Buddy asked Myrtle, with a wink at Miles.

“Oh, Myrtle?” asked Miles, in an offhanded voice that meant trouble. “She’s my designated driver. I always have a few cocktails with my lunch. Myrtle drives me around town afterward.” He sounded convincingly slurred.

Buddy gave a hearty laugh, slapping Miles on the back as if they were in some kind of men’s club together.

“I like the way you’ve set up your day,” said Buddy, putting a cape around Miles. “That’s the life, isn’t it?  I guess one day, after I’m retired, I’ll be able to do the same thing. You only have time for hedonism when you’re real young or real old, right?”

Miles had a wistful expression on his face, which made Myrtle smile. She knew that he hadn’t experienced hedonism during either young or old.

Myrtle cleared her throat. “So you did have a wild youth then, Buddy?  Who all did you go to high school with?  I’d already retired when you came through Bradley High, hadn’t I?”

“You sure had, Mrs. Clover. And that’s just as well for you—you wouldn’t have wanted to deal with my crowd, I bet. I was in there with Charles Clayborne and Hugh Bass—hung out with them.”

Myrtle said innocently. “Oh! That sounds like a wild crowd, for sure. I was so sorry about Charles. What a tragedy.”

Buddy carefully trimmed a spot above Miles’s ear. “It was, wasn’t it?  Of course, it wasn’t like I’d kept in touch with Charles. Nobody had from our group. Well, except for Hugh.” He suddenly stopped talking and pressed his lips together as if he hadn’t planned on saying that.

“Charles left Bradley soon after he graduated, didn’t he?” asked Myrtle. “So how did Dr. Bass keep up with him?  Just online and by phone?”

Buddy said slowly, “Not just that way, no. Hugh Bass ended up at the same college that Charles did. Of course, Charles wasn’t planning on being a dentist.” Buddy smirked at the thought of Charles going into dentistry.

“What was Charles thinking of going into?” asked Miles. He quickly hiccupped, in case his question had sounded too sober. Myrtle noticed that he didn’t claim any kinship to Charles.

“Anything shady,” said Buddy smoothly. “Charles wasn’t exactly a guy who minded operating on both sides of the law.” He stepped back to give his work a critical eye, then continued. “I’m not saying that Charles did anything outright illegal…in an
obvious
way, anyway. He wasn’t out there robbing banks, dealing drugs or breaking into cars or houses. But if there was something in the gray area that might make him some money, or some way to hustle some money on a phony business deal?  Charles was going to be up for it.”

Myrtle said, frowning, “Then why did Dr. Bass stay friends with him?”

Buddy Fenton tilted his head to the side and studied her. Summing her up probably, to see if she was just a harmless, nosy old lady. Then he glanced over at Miles. Miles hiccupped in a comforting way again and Buddy continued, “At first, I guess he thought that Charles was fun to be around. He was, you know. As long as he wasn’t trying to squeeze money out of you somehow, he could be the life of the party. He could tell jokes that would leave you rolling on the floor. And he had lots of exciting ideas for things to do, too.”

“But after that?” asked Myrtle. “After Dr. Bass maybe got tired of his shenanigans?”

Both Myrtle and Miles hung on Buddy’s words. For a guy like Buddy, this must have been very flattering. Myrtle could tell he was the kind of person who thrived in the spotlight and craved it. He wore attention-getting cologne and had the whole look-at-me attitude that she remembered so well from students when she taught school.

But he was also Hugh Bass’s friend. From all appearances, he was Hugh Bass’s
only
friend.  It might take a little persuading for him to disclose whatever dirt he had on Hugh and Charles, despite how much he longed to have a captive audience.

Myrtle quickly lied, “You know, I’m friends with Dr. Bass’s parents. Sweet people.”

Buddy smiled and combed Miles’s hair, taking small snips with his scissors. “Yes, they are.”

“They told me a story a couple of years back which I just barely remember. It was something to do with Dr. Bass and some trouble he’d gotten into while he’d still lived out of town.” Myrtle gave a ferociously thoughtful frown, as if the fascinating story was right there on the very edge of her subconscious and just waiting for her to spill it. She tapped her nose with a long finger as if that would help her to remember it.

Buddy looked sharply at her. He glanced around the shop to ensure they were truly alone. “So you know about what happened then. I’m surprised—I didn’t think that anybody knew that story. The only reason I know about it is because I was still good friends with him at the time. We’re friends now, of course, but we were a lot closer back then. I’ve been real careful not to say anything about it.”

“I know the story, yes. Dr. Bass’s folks were so worried at the time. Distraught. Anyone would be! I used to know all the details, but now I’ve forgotten,” stressed Myrtle, trying to appear foggy, vague, and hesitant.

Miles gave a few encouraging hiccups.

“Yes, so they went to a college in West Virginia. After graduation, Charles found some sort of work nearby and Hugh Bass went to dental school. This arrangement lasted for about four years. They were even roommates, trying to cut costs and share expenses. They still hung out together after Charles was done with work and when Hugh was out of class for the day. Hugh graduated and set up a practice, but they needed money. Whatever Charles was doing wasn’t bringing in a whole lot, and Hugh didn’t have any money to speak of, because he was paying back his tuition and paying rent for his new dental practice.”

“What did they do?” asked Myrtle. “I mean,” she added quickly, “remind me again what they did.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Charles persuaded Hugh he should do some funny business with the billing,” said Buddy, studying Myrtle carefully as if assessing how much she really knew about the whole business.

Myrtle nodded. “That’s right,” she said. She hesitated, trying to think how this might have been done. “So Dr. Bass started billing insurance companies for work he hadn’t actually done on the patients?” It was a wild guess.

But it was an accurate one. Buddy nodded again. “Yep. Billing for fillings and crowns when he’d only done a cleaning. That kind of thing. Of course it caught up to him eventually.”

Miles shot her a look. She had a feeling that he wasn’t going to soon forgive her for forcing him to get his teeth looked at by a criminal.

“Jail time,” she hazarded.

“Exactly. He owned up to everything and had a clean record up to that time, so he got off with the bare minimum,” said Buddy.

“But his dental license would have been revoked in West Virginia, of course,” murmured Myrtle in sudden, horrified realization.

Buddy gave her a quick sideways glance and shrugged. He appeared to be searching for something to say, probably on a completely different and distracting topic.

Miles continued glaring at Myrtle, momentarily forgetting his hiccups.

Myrtle said, still following the previous train of thought, “So when Charles came back into town, was he here to make trouble?  Could he have been trying to blackmail Dr. Bass?  Have you any idea what he was doing in town, Buddy?”

“I’m not a hundred percent positive,” drawled Buddy, “but my general impression of Charles is that, if he was heading your way to talk to you, you probably ought to quickly cross to the other side of the street. I haven’t known him not to try and stir up trouble. I know he never visited Hugh while he was serving time and split out of West Virginia just as fast as he could. He didn’t own up to the fact that he’d been the one to hatch the fraud to begin with. He was just an all-around bad egg.”