Death at a Drop-In (10 page)

“Well, it’s not like it’s a lot of information.  It’s just that Sybil indicated that she wasn’t exactly Cosette’s number one fan.”

Myrtle blinked at him in surprise.  “Well, aren’t you all full of local gossip?  How unlike you, Miles!”

“I was paying attention at book club, that’s all. Sybil Nelson was talking about Cosette.  She was quite vicious,” said Miles, thoughtfully.

“Interesting,” said Myrtle.  She plopped down in a kitchen chair to digest this news.  “I have no idea why Sybil would be angry at Cosette.  Wait, give me a clue.”

Miles hesitated.  “Boyfriend.”

“That’s my clue?  Boyfriend?  You could do better than that, Miles.  Okay, clearly, her boyfriend, Felix, is having an affair with Cosette.  So Sybil actually
said
that those two were seeing each other?  At book club?  How remarkable of her!”

“No, she didn’t say anything about an affair.  She said that Cosette was an insufferable braggart,” said Miles.

This startled Myrtle even more than learning of the affair.  “
Sybil
?  Sybil used a phrase like ‘insufferable braggart?’ Somehow, I can’t picture those words drawling out of her.  I may have underestimated Sybil.  All that loud laughter, hoop earrings, and costume-y peasant dresses misled me.”

Miles said, “No, that was my summary of her actual words.  She said something more along the lines that Cosette should learn to shut up and she thought she knew how to shut her up.”

“Ahh.  That sounds more like our Sybil.  After all, she’s the one who keeps forcing us to read all those incredibly imbecilic novels in book club.”

Miles nodded.  “She’s the one.”

“So she was upset at Cosette’s bragging, too.  No surprise there.  How did you find out about the affair, then?” asked Myrtle.

“I must have looked surprised at how vicious Sybil was.  She’s usually kind of insipid, you know?  But this was a really fierce attack on Cosette.  I was getting some more iced tea and Erma came up to me and explained that Sybil’s boyfriend was having an affair with Cosette,” said Miles.

“Oh, now I understand why I didn’t hear anything about all of this.  I was starting to wonder if I’d spent the entire book club in the bathroom or something.  If you were hanging around Erma, then I was obviously on the other side of the room, steering clear.”

Miles said, “That’s right.  Remember?  Erma was determined to drag you into conversation and you kept dashing off to get more food or to talk to someone else.”

“But we have to remember that Erma is usually not the most reliable source of information.  She tends to think that
everyone
is having an affair with everyone else. I’m not sure how much stock we can put into what she says.  She might have made up this affair—it could be pure conjecture to explain the shouting Erma witnessed at Cosette’s house.  If that’s the case, then what else do you think Sybil has against Cosette?” asked Myrtle.  She absently rattled the ice cubes in her now-empty glass of tea. 

“I’ve no idea,” said Miles simply.

“You must have
some
thoughts on it,” said Myrtle sharply.

“None at all.”

“Use some creativity,” said Myrtle.

“I wasn’t blessed with an abundance of creativity,” said Miles with a shrug.  He hesitated.  “Well, judging from what she said at book club, maybe…maybe she simply found Cosette…annoying.” He gazed at Myrtle with a satisfied expression as if delivering a particularly deep analysis.

Myrtle sighed.  “That’s what
I
told you about Cosette.  That would be
my
motive for killing her.”

“If it’s a good enough motive for you, it should be good enough for Sybil,” said Miles.  “Although I still think that Sybil doesn’t seem very likely as a suspect to me.”

“I think that Erma must be right.  There must have been something going on between Felix and Cosette,” said Myrtle.  “Or maybe Sybil simply suspects that there is. There sure was a lot of tension in that kitchen while we were in there.”

“Don’t remind me,” said Miles, looking pained.  “I don’t know when I’ve ever felt so uncomfortable.”

Myrtle continued, “As far as Sybil goes, I wish I could figure out a way for me to interview her without being completely obvious about it.”

“There’s always book club,” said Miles.

Myrtle frowned.  “Didn’t we just have book club?  Yes, I believe I suffered through it very recently.  And we ended up with that ridiculous book to read.”

“I only mean that you could invent a book club-related reason,” said Miles.

“Such as?”

“I’m not sure.  Tell her it’s your turn to pick the book and you want her opinion on which of three novels you should choose.”

“Isn’t that a pretty weak excuse for a visit?” asked Myrtle.

Miles wasn’t apparently in any mood to be delicate. “Myrtle, you’re old.  With age comes certain privileges.”

“Not enough of them,” grumbled Myrtle.

“I think you can get away with just about anything.  So what if the excuse is a bit weak?  You’ll simply look like you have too much time on your hands and put too much stock in small things.  She’s still fairly new in town and doesn’t even know you all that well, so she won’t be suspicious over having you asking her opinion.  Sybil won’t know you’re one of those ferociously clever old ladies,” said Miles.

Myrtle rather liked the
ferociously clever
.

“Besides, it seems to me that you don’t have to make up anything at all.  You’re a writer for the
Bradley Bugle
.  Tell Sybil you’re working on a story for the paper.  That would even be the truth, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh sure, Miles.  That’s certain to make Sybil open up about her boyfriend’s affair—talking to a member of the press.  No, she seems like the type to clam up if she’s talking to a reporter, even a reporter like me.  Remember, she’s a
suspect
in a murder investigation. And her boyfriend was having an affair with the victim, as far as we can tell.  None of that seems like stuff she’d want to have blabbed around town in the local paper.”

“I guess you should stick with the book club excuse, then.”

“Maybe Felix will be over there and I can interview him, too,” said Myrtle thoughtfully.

“That’ll never work out.  She’s not going to tell you anything while he’s around.  Maybe you can catch him at work and somehow broach the subject.”

“What does Felix do again?” asked Myrtle.

Miles seemed to be repressing a sneeze.  Or a laugh.  “He sells life insurance.”

“That might work.”  Miles’s laughter was obvious now.  “Miles, the way people are living, I could live another twenty years or more, easily.” 

 Miles apparently decided to avoid that subject. “Who are you favoring as a suspect, Myrtle?” asked Miles as he leaned forward in his chair to make sure that the boys were still engulfed in the cartoon.  They were.

“Tobin Tinker,” said Myrtle decidedly.

“What? Tobin?”

“I talked to Tobin at my house right before my unexpected encounter with Erma.  After we talked to Joan, I called Tobin about doing some work for me.  It took some prodding, but finally he really unloaded about Cosette.”

“You’re going to have Tobin do work for you?” asked Miles. His eyebrows raised in alarm.  “Won’t that make Dusty mad? I thought your whole existence was tailored around keeping Dusty happy.”

“That’s why I put up with the ridiculous Puddin as my housekeeper. That’s why I don’t complain when he misses spots when he mows…that’s right. He’s the only yardman in town who will weed trim around my gnomes.  I can’t afford to make him upset,” said Myrtle.  “But I found out that Tobin does tree removal.  He came over to take a look at my ailing pine tree down the hill.”

Miles puckered his brow. “I don’t remember a sick pine tree in your yard.”

Myrtle pointed out the window. “Out by the lake.”

Miles stood up to peer out the window.  “The skinny one on the lakeshore?  You’re not spending good money to take it down, are you? It’ll fall in the lake eventually.  Simply because you wanted to talk to Tobin?”

“I called for an estimate, that’s all.  The only problem is that he gave me such a good price on it that he’ll probably keep bugging me to have it removed.”

Miles glanced idly back at the kitchen window and jumped.  “That animal. It’s really a holy terror, Myrtle.  Can’t you do something about it?”

Myrtle turned to see Pasha glaring ominously at Miles.  “She just doesn’t like you, Miles. You give her mean looks and call her
that animal
.  She’s an absolute love with me.  And what I don’t understand is that people keep telling me that I should leave Pasha alone because she’s a wild creature…and then they’ll tell me that I should do something about her.  Very contradictory.”

“I suppose we mean that you’ve got some sort of obligation to the animal.  Seeing as how you’re feeding her and everything,” said Miles stiffly.

“I had her spayed and she’s had all her shots.  However, I’m not exactly planning on taking Pasha to a cat psychologist to find out why she dislikes most human beings on this planet except for me.  I simply accept that she has her reasons.  She’s a very clever feline,” said Myrtle.

Pasha bared her teeth at Miles.

“Very disconcerting,” said Miles grouchily.

Chapter Nine

There was a jaunty rap at the front door and Myrtle cursed under her breath.  “It’s Joan.  And it looks like I’ve babysat by plopping the kids in front of the television the whole time.”  She pushed herself out of the chair and grabbed her cane.

“You did do that,” said Miles. “But it was so much better than the alternative.  And we didn’t even have to boot up your computer.”

Joan looked even jollier than she had when she’d been dropping off Noah.  She greeted Myrtle and Miles with a huge smile on her face.  Myrtle was surprised to see that she had dimples—she’d never smiled enough for Myrtle to see them. Her mother’s demise seemed to put her in an extraordinarily good mood.  “How was Noah?” she asked, then spotted him staring with fascination at the television screen.

Myrtle said quickly, “Oh, we had a great time.  Yes.  We had snacks and we colored pictures, and I mentioned French to him, and….” She trailed off and winced as Noah continued watching, totally engrossed on the screen without sparing his mother a glance.  “We turned on the television.  Miles came over and he and I visited while the boys watched a cartoon.  I hope that’s all right,” she finished meekly.

“It’s absolutely fine,” said Joan, eyes twinkling behind her thick glasses.  She started putting Noah’s toys back in the basket she’d brought over.

“Is it?” asked Myrtle.  “For some reason, I’d gotten the impression that Noah was always expanding his intellectual horizons in ways that a cartoon dinosaur couldn’t provide.”

The dinosaur on the television appeared to be putting on the wrong outfit every day of the week.  If it were snowing outside, he wore a bathing suit.  If it were sweltering, he wore a winter coat.  Myrtle supposed this could potentially be considered educational.  In a very meager way.

Joan rolled her eyes.  “That was Mother’s idea. Poor Noah hasn’t had a minute of unscheduled time since he was able to sit up by himself.  Mother paid for foreign language teachers and music classes and sports coaches.  He’s probably absorbed in the TV because he’s never seen anything like it before.” Joan’s entire posture changed as she spoke about her mother. She slumped and her shoulders hunched over as if she were trying to hide.

“How did everything go at your dad’s house?” asked Miles.  “Is he doing any better?”

“And is your aunt still there?” asked Myrtle, trying to look sweetly concerned, when in fact she wanted to see if her chances were any better for speaking directly to Lucas.”

“Aunt Hazel is still there, yes.  She’s going to stay until a couple of days after the funeral to help out.  And it went really well, Miles, thanks.  Hard, of course, to go through Mother’s things, but it went well.  Dad kept asking me if I wanted Mother’s things and I had to keep turning him down…but that was the only real issue,” said Joan.  She snorted.  “As if Mother and I were the same size.  Mother was as skinny as they come.  And I…”  She motioned to the rolls of fat showing over her sweatpants.

“Well, I’m sure there are plenty of charities that will love to take her clothes,” said Myrtle.

“Exactly.”  Joan brooded for a minute, obviously still thinking about her mother. “We were different sizes. We had different temperaments.  Different personalities.  I don’t especially want to have reminders of Mother all over my house.  I’m very sorry she’s gone,” said Joan, not really sounding at all sorry.  “But I know the charities will be delighted to have her things.  And we got so much done.  It will be good for Dad not to have to live around all Mother’s things…he’ll feel a lot more at peace there.”

Myrtle thought this was an odd way of phrasing it.  “Well, you’re certainly good to help him out.  I know he probably isn’t sleeping real well and isn’t sure which way is up.”

Joan said, “Yes, but Aunt Hazel is helping out a lot, too.  The funeral is on for tomorrow, by the way.  Aunt Hazel wrote up the obituary—a good thing, since I had no idea what to say about Mother.  And she’s helping tidy the house up for any guests who might come by after the funeral or to drop in beforehand.  Dad’s getting to the point where he can at least talk to visitors now.  Thank goodness, Aunt Hazel has been here.  Now all he has to do is deal with the life insurance company and business-related things like that.”

Myrtle saw Miles raise his eyebrows at her.  Myrtle said carefully, “Well, I’ll be the first to admit that there can be a comfort in money—funerals are expensive things, aren’t they?”

“Exactly.  And Mother and Dad were flat out of money anyway, so thank goodness for the life insurance policy. And for such a big one—Dad will be completely out of the hole.”

“How very modern of your father!  He’s so right to realize that even women who stay at home are of great value.  Smart of him to get a policy to recognize that,” said Myrtle.

“Dad said that Mother was such a valuable part of their home that he’d have to hire a team of professionals to do all the things she did.  Mother bragged about it.  He found her so valuable that he took out a large life insurance policy on her.   He’d have to have a gardener, a housekeeper and more, just to replace all that she did.  Of course, this policy covers hiring for those areas—and more.”