A Body in the Trunk

by Elizabeth Spann Craig

  “Got it. Well, that makes sense. Miles and I always feel like outsiders there and that book can also be taught in middle school so book club should be able to manage. Oh, and do you have any updates on Miles needing to keep an eye open? He’s about to drive me crazy by thinking everything is a hazard to his health.”

  “He avoided the trouble headin’ his way. He kin relax,” said Wanda.

  “Excellent. Anything else?” asked Myrtle.

  “Yer in danger,” said Wanda.

  “Yes, thank you. I received that message during our last visit. And I haven’t been especially nice—I’ve just been myself,” said Myrtle.

  “And listen to Red,” said Wanda.

  Myrtle stopped cold.

  “You should listen to him,” insisted Wanda.

  “Wanda, that statement is entirely too broad. We should attach a start and end date to this prediction of yours. The last thing I want to do is start listening to my son,” said Myrtle. “If I went along with everything he said, the next thing I know I’ll be standing in the lunch line at Greener Pastures waiting for my fish sticks and green peas.”

  “Start listenin’ now. End when it’s over,” croaked Wanda. She paused. “That is all.” And she hung up.

  Miles said, “I’m scared to ask.”

  Myrtle pulled the popcorn out of the microwave. “You should ditch Hemingway for Hinton.”

  “The Outsiders? Really?”

  Myrtle shrugged. “It’s still in the literary realm and apparently will mean fewer phone calls from the book club. At least, I suppose it would. Who knows? I’m simply passing along what Wanda told me to tell you. Oh, and your ‘stuff happens’ window has closed. It’s expired, or something. You can resume being completely careless about your general health and safety.”

  Miles, despite his doubtful attitude toward Wanda’s predictions, looked extremely relieved. Then he politely asked, “And you? I’m guessing she reminded you that you were in terrible danger again?”

  Myrtle said, “Naturally. That’s her standard prediction. Although she also told me something deeply troubling.”

  “To go visit Erma Sherman?” asked Miles.

  “Even worse than that, as hard as it may be to imagine. She said for me to listen to Red.” Myrtle frowned.

  Miles raised his eyebrows. “Listen to Red? But that flies in the face of everything you believe in.”

  “Exactly. Combining that with the ‘don’t be nice’ warning, and I don’t really know what to think.”

  Miles said thoughtfully, “I’m trying to piece together when you might have been nice lately, and I’m coming up blank.”

  “Thanks.” Myrtle made a face at him.

  “Although I suppose that trying to set Sloan and Sally up on a date might qualify as being nice,” said Miles.

  “If this is your way of trying to stop me from matchmaking, you can forget it. Those two should at least explore the idea of having a relationship. No, I think it must be something else.”

  Myrtle put the popcorn in a large bowl and Miles walked into the kitchen to pour them iced tea. They brought everything into the living room, settled into their usual spots, and Miles hit ‘play.’

  The doorbell rang and Myrtle sighed. “This is typical. Whenever we want to watch Tomorrow’s Promise there seems to be an interruption.”

  She pushed up from her armchair and strode to the front door, yanking it open. “Hi, Tarleton. Did I forget that you were coming by today?”

  Miles hastily switched off the recording, being somewhat sensitive about watching the soap opera around Tarleton.

  Tarleton walked in, respectfully taking off his baseball cap. He still hadn’t seemed to get the hang of workman clothing. He wore a pair of elderly khaki pants and a somewhat-faded button-down shirt. “No, you haven’t forgotten anything. But I was next door and thought I’d pop over. Red seemed to think that you might want me to run to the store and buy you a new kitchen fire extinguisher? Would you like me to do that?”

  Miles gave a gasping laugh that finished in a cough. Myrtle glared at him.

  “That’s very kind of you, Tarleton. As much as I would not like you to get me a fire extinguisher, I realize that Red will not stop in his quest to replace mine. Plus, I’m trying to listen to Red for reasons too complicated to get into. But I hate you to have to go all the way to the store for just the one thing,” said Myrtle.

  Tarleton smiled and said, “Oh, it won’t be just the one thing. Red also gave me a list of things for himself, too. Seems he’s so busy that he doesn’t have time to run his own errands.”

  Myrtle nodded and looked at him closely as she said, “He’s been busy, all right. Since you were next door at Erma’s—my sympathy, by the way—you’re probably aware of Lyle Solomon’s passing.”

  Tarleton looked solemn. “I did hear the news. Ms. Sherman was quite alarmed about losing another neighbor.”

  Miles groaned. “She’s probably going to try to spend more time with the neighbors she has left.”

  “Apparently, Lyle would head out to the park very early in the morning to fill feeders and whatnot. You weren’t there that early this morning, were you? I thought perhaps you were someone who liked a walk first thing,” said Myrtle.

  Tarleton chuckled. “As a matter of fact, I’ve always thought of myself as a morning person ... or, at least as someone who could handle early mornings. But this morning, I think the stress of losing my job finally got to me and I slept in.”

  “Did you know Lyle?” asked Miles.

  “I did. I only knew him as a bank customer, but I’m sad to see him go. He found out that he and I share an interest in vegetable gardening and since then he’d always talk gardening with me,” said Tarleton.

  “Do you have any idea who might be responsible for such a thing?” asked Myrtle.

  Tarleton looked thoughtful. “I suppose it must be connected with Neil Albert’s murder, since I can’t imagine that there would be two murderers in Bradley. In that case, I imagine that Lyle must have seen or heard or known something about the murderer.”

  “And you don’t have any idea who this person might be?” pressed Myrtle.

  Tarleton said, “I can only make guesses. And what I know seems a lot like gossip.”

  Miles said, “Myrtle and I are very discreet.”

  Tarleton said, “It’s just Adelaide Pound.”

  Myrtle sighed. She’d thought Tarleton had something new to tell them. “Yes, you’d told us about her. That she seemed to annoy Neil when she met him outside the bank in the parking lot. That maybe their relationship was on the rocks.”

  “Yes. But I didn’t mention what happened the next day that she waited for him in the parking lot. This time, I could tell that Neil meant business. He had his shoulders squared and looked like he was really going to tell Adelaide off in no uncertain terms,” said Tarleton.

  “And did he?” asked Myrtle.

  “He never had the chance. Adelaide ... well, she sort of exploded. She was screaming and yelling and pitching a real hissy fit.” Tarleton shook his head. “She has a real temper. Plus, she’s a stalker. The more I think about it, the more I think she could somehow be involved.”

  “But do you see her killing Lyle in the park?” asked Miles doubtfully.

  “I don’t think she’ll stop at anything to get what she wants,” said Tarleton. He paused and then gave a small laugh. “Wow. We got serious really quick, didn’t we? Whew! I’m going to go get that fire extinguisher and let you two watch your soap in peace.”

  “It’s not really our soap,” muttered Miles.

  Tarleton waved to them. “See you soon.” And he left.

  Chapter Sixteen

  MYRTLE SAID, “I NEVER would have thought that Adelaide had such a short fuse.”

  “I never would have thought that Tarleton Fleming would catch me watching Tomorrow’s Promise twice,” said Miles. “Please let’s not have it on when he returns with the fire extinguisher.”

  “It se
ems like a lot of people chose this morning to sleep in,” said Myrtle. “First Clara, now Tarleton? That’s sort of odd, isn’t it?”

  “It only seems odd to people who don’t sleep,” said Miles.

  “All right, let’s go ahead and watch the soap before some other interruption happens. Our popcorn is already cold, too. Pooh.” Myrtle picked up a few offending kernels from the bowl.

  “I don’t think popcorn has to be served hot,” said Miles. “They sell it already-popped at the store in bags.”

  “For lazy people,” said Myrtle. “Because everyone knows that popcorn is better hot.” She paused. “I wonder what would happen if I put it back into the microwave for a few seconds.”

  “Let’s not find out,” said Miles.

  They settled down with their cold popcorn and drinks as Tomorrow’s Promise started its dramatic intro music. Minutes later, Veronica was just telling Tristan that she was carrying his baby and not Stefano’s when the show suddenly cut off.

  “What on earth is happening!” demanded Myrtle. “Miles, did you hit a button on the remote?”

  “The remote is on the table. It looks as if something else was recorded, instead,” said Miles.

  “What is this nonsense? Some sort of inane talk show?” Myrtle was enraged.

  “Maybe you got distracted when you were setting up the recording and accidentally overrode the soap for this talk show,” offered Miles.

  “Certainly not! I know how to work my remote and my recording system. This is not my error.” Myrtle’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll bet this has something to do with that Puddin. Puddin has been spending entirely too much unsupervised time in my house.”

  “Well, in the meantime, let’s turn the TV off. The last thing I want is for Tarleton to add sleazy talk shows to the list of my favorite programs,” said Miles morosely. He reached for the remote.

  “I’m going to call that Puddin and give her a piece of my mind,” fumed Myrtle, picking up the phone receiver.

  Dusty picked up the phone. “Too hot to mow!” he bellowed in the phone.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You wouldn’t be mowing, you’d be weed-trimming around the gnomes. And, I’m technically calling for Puddin, I do need you to come back out today,” said Myrtle.

  “She done cleaned for you a lot lately,” said Dusty. “Yer house gotta be clean. An’ I mowed real short last time fer you. Shouldn’t need mowin’!”

  “It’s as clean as a Puddin-style cleaning makes it. Which means it’s halfway done. And our recent rains have made my grass grow up along the sides of my gnomes. So, yes, I do need you to come out again. It shouldn’t take very long. And put Puddin on the phone. There was something else that I needed to talk with her about,” said Myrtle.

  A moment later a sullen-sounding Puddin was on the phone. “Yeah?”

  “Puddin, I suspect that in your unsupervised time here, you’ve been messing with my program recording. You’ve overridden my Tomorrow’s Promise for some sort of tacky talk show.”

  Puddin said, “Haven’t touched it! You musta hit the wrong button or somethin’.”

  “I know how to work my electronics and I can promise you that I didn’t hit any wrong buttons!”

  “Sometimes you’re distracted,” said Puddin in a considering voice. “Mighta not realized you done it.”

  There was a knock on the door and Miles let Tarleton in. He waved the fire extinguisher at her and smiled.

  “Puddin, I’m sure you’re behind this. And now Miles and I don’t know what happened with Veronica and Tristan. I have too much going on to put up with this foolishness!”

  “Whatcha got goin’ on?” asked Puddin nosily.

  “As a matter of fact, I’m working on an important story for the paper. Plus, I have book club tomorrow morning at ten. And I need my relaxation time. So, in future, leave my remotes alone!” She hung up the phone. “That Puddin.”

  Tarleton said, “I’ll just run this back to the kitchen, Miss Myrtle.”

  “Thanks, Tarleton,” said Myrtle absently as he headed, whistling, to the back.

  Miles said, “I probably should be going. We’re not going anywhere else today, are we?”

  “Not unless you want to go to another high school basketball game.”

  “I think I’ll pass. My back isn’t up to it,” said Miles. He walked to the front door, Myrtle following him. “By the way, you know that the book club meeting tomorrow is at nine, don’t you?”

  “Nine? We never have book club that early.”

  “Not ordinarily, but everyone voted on having a special breakfast book club, remember? People are bringing over breakfast casseroles and fruit and stuff,” said Miles.

  “Are they? It’s all quite distressing. I like it better when I know exactly what to expect and when book club is the same as always,” said Myrtle, wearing a thunderous frown. “Now I’ll have to go to the store and cook something.”

  Miles raised his hands up. “No. No, you don’t. There is plenty of food on the way. Whenever we have food at book club there are always way too many leftovers.”

  “That’s because book club is full of a lot of dainty women who nibble. I feel as if I’m surrounded by a bunch of rabbits. But I have to bring something, Miles. Everyone else is and it will look as if I didn’t get the memo.”

  “You clearly didn’t get the memo. Please don’t worry about bringing anything.” Miles was practically wringing his hands at this point.

  “All right, all right,” muttered Myrtle. She watched as he walked out and then walked into the kitchen.

  Tarleton was carefully opening the box the fire extinguisher was in.

  “You could really just leave that, if you wanted to,” said Myrtle. “I don’t think it’s going to come into any immediate use.”

  Tarleton gave her an apologetic wince. “Unfortunately, Red asked me to get it out of the box and find an appropriate spot in your kitchen for it.”

  “That Red,” said Myrtle, fuming. Then she remembered Wanda’s admonition to listen to Red. “I suppose that’s fine, then.” She paused. “How is it all going, by the way? Finding odd jobs and all?”

  Tarleton shrugged a shoulder and gave her a small smile. “It’s harder than I thought. Sometimes people don’t really have a list of things for me to do. Or they will have a list, but it’s disorganized and growing and I’ll have to keep running off to the hardware store to get more things.”

  “You should charge for your time and gas,” said Myrtle. “That’ll stop them from being so disorganized about it. Red’s been paying you, right?”

  “Yes, thanks. Is it okay if I put the extinguisher right next to the stove?” he asked.

  “Right next to the stove? What about over in the corner by the pantry?” asked Myrtle. “Or on the other wall, next to the fridge?”

  Tarleton gave that apologetic look again. “Red specifically said the stove.”

  Myrtle sighed. “All right then. Although he’s really getting on my nerves now. He acts as if I’m creating conflagrations every time I cook.” She glanced at the clock. “I’d better run—I have a story to write for the paper.”

  “You’re covering the murders, aren’t you?” asked Tarleton. “How is it going?” Then he frowned. “You wouldn’t put what I said in there about Adelaide Pound, would you?”

  “Uncorroborated stories? No, that’s slander. I can’t put any of the bits and pieces I know in there, only the facts so far. Which makes for very short stories,” said Myrtle.

  “What other things have you found out?” asked Tarleton curiously.

  “Oh, you know. People with secrets. People who didn’t divulge that they’d passed by Neil on the side of the road. People with obsessions. Just day to day life in Bradley,” said Myrtle. “But I think it’s all coming together. I’m starting to get the big picture. You know, I could use a quote from you for the article. That might liven things up a little and not make the story so dry.”

  Tarleton rubbed the back of his neck and shook h
is head. “I don’t know. Right now, I’m trying to scrape by with my handyman business. I wouldn’t want people to think that I’m nosy or anything.”

  “That would be impossible, since I’m the nosy one and I’m writing the story. Any blatant nosiness will automatically be attributed to me,” said Myrtle.

  “Okay, then. How about: These are tragic murders and my thoughts are with the families of Neil and Lyle. I have faith in Red Clover to solve the case and put the perpetrators behind bars.” Tarleton smiled hopefully at Myrtle. “Will that work?”

  “Well, Red will sure love it,” said Myrtle dryly.

  “Red is the one giving me most of my employment leads right now,” pointed out Tarleton. “As a matter of fact, I’d better head over to his house and drop off the stuff I picked up for him at the hardware store.”

  “See you later, then,” said Myrtle. She was already thinking about her article and as soon as Tarleton left, she walked straight for her computer.

  Myrtle had finished her story and was on the point of emailing it when the phone rang. It was Sally Solomon.

  “Sally! Good to hear from you. Is there anything that I can do for you?” asked Myrtle.

  Sally gave a small laugh. “Actually, there is something that you could do for me. Let me do something for you.”

  Myrtle blinked. “What was that again?”

  “Oh, I think my problem is that I haven’t gotten out of this house. And the house is full of Lyle memories, both good and bad. There’s been no real reason to leave home since everyone has brought food. But I think I need to get out,” said Sally.

  “You’ve called the right person,” said Myrtle. “Restless is my middle name. Why don’t you pop over here for a change of pace?”

  “I’ll do that for a few minutes, but I meant what I said about helping you out. I think running errands for you might help distract me. You don’t drive anymore, do you?”

  “I drive, but I don’t have a car. I’m sure there’s something I’ll need you to do—why not just run on over?” asked Myrtle.

  She set the phone down and frowned. With Tarleton running errands for her and doing things around the house, she felt like there wasn’t much of anything to be done. Then she snapped her fingers and walked back over to her computer, printing the article.