Hushed Up

by Elizabeth Spann Craig

  Miles said, “We weren’t in Martin’s house long enough to create a problem, I don’t think.” But he did drive a little faster over to Annie’s house.

  He asked, “What does Annie do?”

  Myrtle said, “She’s a teacher. She and I have talked about it before, actually. I don’t think she’s as crazy about teaching as she thought she’d be. That’s probably one of the reasons she was interested in moving away from town and starting over.”

  Miles said, “I thought teaching was sort of like preaching—you needed to have some sort of calling to do it. It’s not something suited to everyone.”

  “She might have simply been determined to do something completely different from what her mother wanted her to do,” said Myrtle with a shrug. “Lillian was pestering Annie to go into the flower business with her and there Annie was getting a teaching certificate. It must have driven Lillian nuts. Which was precisely what Annie wanted, I bet.”

  They drove up to a much more modest home than Martin’s had been. It was a small duplex apartment with overgrown landscaping.

  Myrtle rang the doorbell. There was a flutter of the curtains near the front door and then Annie peered out. She had sharp features, bright red hair and a suspicious expression on her face that quickly turned to surprise when she spotted Myrtle. She unlocked the front door.

  “Miss Myrtle!” said Annie, opening the door wide. “What a surprise to see you!”

  “Yes, dear. I was so sorry to hear the news about your poor mama.” Myrtle thrust the casserole at her. The casserole, having sat in a hot vehicle during the visit with Martin, was decidedly fishy in aroma and Annie’s nose crinkled just a little bit. Miles made an odd noise, which he quickly covered with coughing.

  Myrtle gave Miles a reproving look. “And this is Miles Bradford. Perhaps you’ve seen him around town.”

  Miles gave Annie an apologetic smile to cover either the casserole, the intrusion, or both. “I knew your mother. I’m very sorry.”

  Annie said, “Please come in. Just forgive the mess—yesterday was such a long day and I haven’t had the chance to clean up.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” said Myrtle, following Annie in. Although it was tough, as Myrtle quickly glanced around the small living room for a place to sit, not to think about it. Annie had papers and boxes and things all over the room. Miles patted his pockets for the comforting feel of the hand sanitizer bottle as Annie whisked the aromatic casserole away to the kitchen.

  Miles gave Myrtle a silent, questioning look and Myrtle hissed, “Just uncover a chair, Miles! It isn’t rocket science.”

  Miles looked miserably at the sofa, which would require extreme excavation. “I hate to move her things.”

  “It’s not as if her things are organized. I don’t think we’re messing up some sort of arcane system.” Myrtle picked up a pile of clothing and papers from an armchair and dropped them on the floor.

  Annie came back into the room and flushed. “I’m so sorry about this. I promise I’m not usually so much of a slob. I’m kind of stuck in a transition and don’t know what to do. The more I stew over it, the less-inclined I am to try to make sense out of this room.”

  Myrtle gave her a sympathetic look. “That sounds awful. What sort of transition are you struggling with?”

  Annie sighed. “You probably know from Mama that I was planning on leaving Bradley. She told everyone about it because she was so unhappy I wasn’t going to take over the flower shop.”

  Myrtle said, “Not everyone has an interest in flowers, my dear. Or a green thumb. I’m sure Lillian would have understood on some level, even if she was disappointed.”

  Annie smiled at her. “You’re nice to try to make me feel better. The truth was, Miss Myrtle, Mama was a total harridan.” Her face grew darkly reflective. “I never could do anything right. No matter what course I took, she was forever scolding me. I have the feeling that even if I had decided to work at the flower shop she’d have been telling me all the things I was doing wrong . . . selecting the wrong flowers, putting them in the wrong vase, arranging them wrong. It wouldn’t have been any better.”

  “And she wasn’t pleased with your decision to go into teaching, I know,” said Myrtle sadly.

  Annie sighed. “That’s putting it mildly. She was furious and stopped giving me financial assistance for school. Mama told me I’d be an awful teacher and I’d be miserable. The horrible thing is she might have been right. You’ve been great to listen to me talk about school, Miss Myrtle. But the fact of the matter is, I’m worried I’m never really going to get the hang of teaching. That it won’t get better with time.”

  Miles cleared his throat and said, “It must be a difficult occupation to settle into.”

  Annie gave him a grateful look. “It is. Right now, there haven’t been as many good days as there’ve been bad days and I’m just concerned it won’t get any better.” She gave a short laugh. “That’s sort of my explanation about why my house looks like this. I started packing my things a couple of weeks ago, thinking I’d try to take a teaching position in another town and get away from my family. But then I worried about starting over somewhere else, struggling with teaching and without any friends or community support.” She shrugged.

  Myrtle said, “You wanted to escape your family? Is Martin not very helpful, either?”

  Annie snorted. “Martin is concerned with one thing and one thing only: Martin. He’s incredibly obnoxious and a chronic liar. Plus, it drove me crazy to see him kissing up to Mama all the time.”

  Myrtle and Miles glanced at each other. Myrtle said, “We actually ran by Martin’s house on the way here and delivered some food.”

  Annie said, “Then you saw the mansion on the lake. Martin is a ridiculous show-off. And yet he and Mama always got along better than she and I did. I had to sit and endure family dinners together where Martin acted all sweet and Mama ate it up. Then she’d either barely acknowledge me or would spend the evening telling me how I always screwed everything up.”

  Myrtle said slowly, “That sounds like a terrible situation to have to deal with. I can understand you thinking about moving.”

  “Most of the time I wanted to get as far away as I possibly could. I started applying for teaching positions and I’ve had a few offers for other towns in the state. That’s one nice thing about being a teacher: you can find a job anywhere,” said Annie. She shook her head. “But then, when I heard the news yesterday, I wasn’t sure what to do anymore. And I’ve been changing my mind about moving every minute anyway.” She gave a short laugh. “When Mama died, I was apparently watching a recording of my guilty pleasure show . . . Tomorrow’s Promise.”

  Myrtle said, “Oh, that’s Miles’s and my show!”

  Miles gave her a dark look. He didn’t like her to spread that tidbit of information around.

  “Back to Martin, though. I apologize for anything that happened while you were there,” said Annie. “Did he try and sell you insurance?”

  Myrtle said, “Not very hard.”

  Miles snorted.

  Annie rolled her eyes. “But he did try. That’s just par for the course for Martin. I can’t figure what I’ve done to deserve such a dysfunctional family.”

  Myrtle said, “At least yours can’t be as bad as Simon and Josephine’s.”

  Annie gazed blankly at Myrtle.

  Myrtle said, “Remember from the show? Simon accidentally married his half-sister?”

  Miles gave Myrtle a curious look.

  “Oh! Oh, of course. Sorry, I drew a blank there. I tried to sleep last night but clearly I didn’t get as much as I should have,” said Annie.

  Myrtle said, “Maybe you can catch up on sleep tonight. Or have a nap? Maybe after eating the casserole and having a full tummy, you’ll be able to sleep a little better.”

  Miles shuddered.

  Myrtle said, “And of course we’ll all sleep better wh
en the police finally arrest whoever is responsible for your mother’s death. If we only had some idea who might be behind it!” She looked expectantly at Annie.

  Annie tilted her head to one side in thought. “Mama didn’t get along with many people well, but there was one person in particular she was really tough on. I’ll tell you what I told Red, Miss Myrtle—I’d talk to Bianca Lloyd.”

  Myrtle frowned. “Bianca Lloyd. The name doesn’t seem to ring a bell for me.”

  “She works at the flower shop.” Annie snorted. “She’s the one person Mama was ruder to than me. The way Mama talked to Bianca was scandalous. She thought Bianca was just as hopeless as I was. She didn’t like Bianca’s arrangements, her choice of flowers, the way she dressed, anything. Mama was practically abusive to her.”

  Miles asked, “Would she have come by your mother’s house?”

  Annie shrugged. “I have no idea. I tried to be involved as little as possible in Mama’s affairs. Who knows?”

  Myrtle asked, “Do you know what’s going to happen with Lillian’s shop?”

  Annie made a face. “Not yet. Martin and I are supposed to meet with Mama’s lawyer sometime today. That should be a fun meeting. But I know one thing—I don’t want anything to do with that shop. When I think about the shop, I think about Mama. When I think about Mama, I don’t feel good about myself . . . that’s the kind of effect she had on me.”

  Myrtle said, “But surely you should at least benefit if the shop is sold.”

  “I don’t really want a penny of that money. It would be tainted because it came from the shop.”

  Myrtle nodded. “I can certainly understand where you’re coming from. And now I think we should let you be. Thanks so much for inviting us in, Annie.”

  A few minutes later, Myrtle and Miles were back in the car.

  “Where are we heading?” asked Miles.

  “Oh, I think a trip to the grocery store is probably in order. After breakfast this morning, I think I’ve depleted most of my stock pantry and fridge items.”

  Miles set off in the direction of downtown Bradley and the Piggly-Wiggly grocery store.

  Miles said, “That was something.”

  “Yes, wasn’t it? That poor girl. It sounds like Lillian really tried to destroy her self-esteem, doesn’t it?”

  Miles said, “I meant more of the mess in there.”

  Myrtle rolled her eyes. “For heaven’s sake, Miles. Annie’s life is clearly in turmoil and that turmoil is being expressed through the disorder in her house.”

  “When I feel turmoil, I usually like to straighten things up,” said Miles. “But yes, I totally agree Lillian was poisonous for Annie if what Annie says is true.” He glanced at Myrtle. “I really didn’t know Lillian all that well. Was she like that with other people? Critical, I mean?”

  Myrtle said, “Well, she certainly wasn’t critical around me. I’d have put her right in her place. But yes. She was also a woman who knew her own mind.”

  “It’s odd she and Erma would be friends,” said Miles.

  “It’s odd anybody would be friends with Erma.”

  Miles said, “But Lillian sounds as if she was such a perfectionist and so precise and critical. And then Erma is . . . Erma.”

  Myrtle said, “One thing they had in common was the fact they loved complaining about their health issues. Apparently, Lillian had as many of them as Erma does. Besides, I’m not at all convinced Erma and Lillian were as close as Erma professes. But think of it this way—Lillian could easily push Erma around. And Lillian liked nothing better than to push people around. We’d be at garden club meetings and discussing an upcoming meeting or event and Lillian would be very scornful of any ideas other than whatever she proposed.”

  “How did the rest of the club respond to that?” asked Miles as he carefully navigated the car down the street.

  “In various ways. Some of the women became defensive. Others figured that, since Lillian was the resident flower expert, they should defer to her. And others, like me, simply didn’t care enough to have an opinion.”

  Miles said, “Not having an opinion doesn’t sound like you.”

  Myrtle said, “I only express opinions when I’m passionate about something. Who could be passionate about garden club?”

  “Tippy.”

  “Besides Tippy. Anyway, I think Tippy is a fanatic only because she likes to do everything perfectly.” Myrtle frowned. “That reminds me, I need to call her. She’s probably on pins and needles worrying about whether we should continue holding that wretched auction.”

  As Miles pulled in front of the grocery store and parked, Myrtle pulled out her phone. “I’ll stay in the car while I chat with her. I do hate seeing other people in the grocery store talking loudly on their phones.”

  Miles looked as if he’d rather Myrtle attempt multitasking by shopping and chatting at the same time, but obligingly waited.

  “Tippy? It’s Myrtle. Listen, I spoke with Martin and he said we should continue on with the auction . . . he didn’t think it was inappropriate at all.”

  Tippy breathed a sigh of relief but then asked sharply, “And Annie? Have you spoken with her?”

  Myrtle made a face at Miles. She’d forgotten to bring it up. “I didn’t, Tippy, but I can tell you Annie is not exactly bereaved. She doesn’t even want anything to do with the shop, just because Lillian owned it. I know she won’t think us insensitive for proceeding with the auction.”

  “Well, that is a relief! I’ve been worried sick because of all the deposits we’ve already made to the caterer and whatnot. Which reminds me, I need to speak with Lillian’s assistant at the flower shop to make sure she’s still able to supply the flowers for the auction, even without Lillian’s help,” said Tippy.

  Myrtle quickly said, “I’m happy to take care of that, Tippy. Miles and I were going to go by the flower shop this afternoon.”

  Miles rolled his eyes.

  “Really?” asked Tippy doubtfully. “Were you? That would be great, if you’re sure.”

  “I couldn’t be surer. I’ll talk to you later, Tippy, I’m at the store. Bye-bye.” Myrtle hung up and opened the car door. Miles glumly followed.

  “We were going to the flower shop?” he asked in a pointed voice.

  “Well, we could have been going to the flower shop, as far as Tippy knows. Maybe it’s Elaine’s birthday. Maybe I wanted to get an arrangement of flowers for the church sanctuary to honor someone’s memory.”

  Miles rolled his eyes. “Because you donate arrangements at the church all the time.”

  “Well I could. Anyway, Tippy was happy to have us go over there and now we have a reason to speak with that Bianca woman Annie was talking about.”

  Miles pulled out a grocery cart and he and Myrtle proceeded down the aisles.

  “What do you need?” he asked.

  “Everything,” said Myrtle. “I can’t for the life of me figure out what Red and I purchased during our last shopping trip. I don’t have much of anything in the house right now unless I want to make a meal of pickles and olives.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Actually, the olives might have made a nice touch for the casseroles I made for Martin and Annie. Pity I didn’t think of them.”

  Miles gazed briefly upwards, bearing a thankful expression.

  Myrtle tossed a few cans of soup into her cart and then stared down the aisle. She hissed at Miles, “That’s Lillian’s neighbor, isn’t it? The one Erma was talking to?”

  Chapter Nine

  Miles peered down the aisle. “I suppose so. She sort of looks like her, anyway.”

  “Martin said his mother had some sort of falling out with Tallulah, remember? We should talk to her.”

  Miles winced. “We’re accosting suspects in the grocery store now?”

  “We have to make our opportunities where we can find them! Seize the day and all that,” said Myrtle firmly. S
he walked with determination toward the woman with Miles reluctantly trailing behind with the grocery cart.

  When the woman spotted Myrtle, she lit up and hurried toward her with just as much determination.

  “You were at Lillian’s house yesterday morning, weren’t you?” the woman asked.

  “Yes. I’m Myrtle Clover and this is my friend, Miles Bradford. You were Lillian’s neighbor, is that right?”

  The woman nodded. “Yes, I was. Such a terrible tragedy.” But her eyes were gleaming. “I’m Tallulah Porter. Lillian right lived next-door to me.”

  Myrtle said, “A tragedy, for sure. Was Lillian a good neighbor? I know her yard was very nice, at least. I have a neighbor who does not keep her yard up and it’s a constant aggravation. It would be lovely to have a neighbor with a green thumb, like Lillian.”

  Tallulah tilted her head doubtfully. “I suppose you could say she had a green thumb. But it wasn’t like she was a farmer or owned a garden center or anything. She arranged flowers—that didn’t mean she grew them. But I guess she did all right with her yard. She was kind of funny about it. Real particular.”

  She turned her attention to Miles and he shifted away slightly. “From what I hear, you found Lillian. Is that right?”

  Miles said stiffly, “Unfortunately. It was a terrible day. Mostly for Lillian.”

  Tallulah looked disappointed that Miles didn’t appear open to sharing gory details.

  Myrtle asked, “You must have known Lillian pretty well, being such a close neighbor.”

  Tallulah looked pleased to be the resident expert on a murder victim. “In some ways. Like I said, she was real particular about things. I’ve seen her outside many a day with a pair of scissors clipping any grass blades the yard man had missed.”

  Myrtle said wryly, “It’s a good thing she didn’t have my yard man, Dusty. She’d have been out there for hours.”

  Miles said, “Was Lillian a difficult neighbor to have? I always think it’s hard when one has a difficult neighbor.” He cut his eyes sideways at Myrtle and Myrtle glowered at him.