“You’re not about to retire, then? Spend more time at home?” asked Myrtle.
Bailey pushed his glasses up his nose and regarded Myrtle with that same serious look. “Do you think I should be spending more time at home?”
This question flustered Myrtle a little. “I don’t think that’s for me to decide.”
Bailey said, “I have the feeling you know a bit about Marigold’s extracurricular activities.”
Myrtle flushed a little. “I might have heard some things. You know how small towns can be.”
Bailey nodded. “I was upset when I found out, of course. Marigold and I have been married for a long time. I admit that I’ve been away from home quite a bit, as you pointed out. The truth of the matter is that I like working and I like the software I’m selling. I also don’t really mind traveling to different places and getting a different perspective on the world. It didn’t really occur to me that Marigold would be finding someone else to spend time with while I was gone.”
He seemed very calm about it all. Myrtle wondered if he’d been this calm when he found out about the affair. He’d said he was “upset.” How upset did he get?
“But then, you know how marriage can be,” continued Bailey. He paused as if to wait for her to say that she did.
“Sort of,” said Myrtle. “My husband died decades ago and my memories are all rather foggy.”
“Well, just to remind you, one tends to get in a sort of routine. You build your lives around each other and then you’re in this cocoon of habit. I can’t really blame Marigold for being lonely and seeking out companionship.”
“I think that’s very generous of you,” said Myrtle.
He shrugged. “Like I said, I was upset at first. But then I thought about it. Jax was pretty much 180 degrees different from me in every way. Where I’m introverted, he was outgoing. Where I love reading, Jax did everything but read. Where I’m quiet, Jax was fun and loud.”
Myrtle nodded. “Has Red spoken with you? I’m imagining he has.”
Bailey said in a tired voice, “Of course he has. I must have looked like the perfect suspect to him. I definitely had motive and I was actually in town when Jax died. But I’d just come back from a trip and my sole focus was spending time with Marigold. And perhaps do some laundry. At any rate, I was home with her and settling back in after being on the road. We had a lovely dinner together at home. I made sure to spend time with her first before recharging my laptop and recording my sales notes for my manager over an email.”
It didn’t sound like much of an alibi. Marigold could be covering for him or he could have quickly slipped out of the house when he was allegedly composing emails. Myrtle said, “It’s nice of you to come to Jax’s funeral—considering everything.”
Bailey said, “I didn’t care about Jax at all, to tell you the truth, although I don’t mind sitting here and eating his food and drinking his wine. All I care about is Marigold. Jax wasn’t worth going to prison for, as I told your Red. I’m here to support Marigold who did care for Jax. It’s over now . . . I think it was actually over when I found out about it. And now, after this service, I’m anticipating that everything returns to normal.”
Miles, loaded down with food, plopped a plate down in front of her. Myrtle gave him an absent smile. “Bailey, you remember Miles, don’t you?”
Bailey’s expression indicated that he neither really remembered Miles, nor really cared to. He gave a grunt.
Miles sat down next to Myrtle. Myrtle said, “We were just talking about Jax’s death, Miles.”
Miles nodded. “Seems an appropriate topic. Considering the circumstances, I mean.”
“Yes, I thought so, too.” Myrtle noticed that Bailey’s gaze was following Marigold sadly around the yard as she spoke with others. “Bailey, do you have any thoughts about who might have done this?”
He brought his attention back to Myrtle with some difficulty. “Done what? This service? His daughter did, I’m sure. Nanette, or whatever her name is.”
“Nicole. But I meant Jax’s murder. Any guesses on who might have killed him?”
Bailey looked a little bemused at Myrtle’s question. Perhaps he wasn’t accustomed to octogenarians nosing into murder. “Well . . . no. Why do you ask?”
“Well, I thought you might have heard something from Marigold. Or perhaps you had ideas of your own. If we find out who did it, it would certainly let you off the hook.”
Miles sighed. He was used to Myrtle’s persistence, but had the feeling that Bailey would like to escape from the table as soon as possible.
“Isn’t it usually the spouse?” he asked in a distracted manner.
Myrtle gave him a disappointed look. “Jax was single.”
“Oh? I thought Eloise was his wife. I used to see them out and about.”
Miles looked deeply unhappy at this.
Myrtle shook her head. “Despite evidence to the contrary, Eloise was not married to Jax.”
“I see. Then I really don’t know. And I don’t really care. Like I said, all I care about is Marigold and making her happy. Things will get back to normal now.” It was more of a declaration this time. A notice of intent.
Marigold settled like a butterfly at another table—one populated by some of the more-boisterous male members of the gathering. Bailey quickly stood up. “I’m sorry, but I should join my wife. You’ll excuse me, won’t you?” Without waiting to find out if they would, he hurried away to her table.
Myrtle said, “Well, I guess that’s as much information as I could hope to get from him. What an unusual person he is.”
Miles’s face indicated that he believed Bailey shared the same opinion about Myrtle. “Did you find out anything from him before I sat down?”
“I suppose so. Nothing earth-shattering. He thinks Marigold just needed a change of pace and that’s why she embarked on a relationship with Jax. Bailey said Jax was completely different from him.”
“Very true,” said Miles. “But I can’t imagine he was as calm about it as you’re making him sound.”
“That’s the thing—he was calm about it. He acknowledged that he’d ‘been upset’ when he’d discovered Marigold was cheating on him, but seems very matter-of-fact about it now. He also gave something of an alibi, although it relies on Marigold. He was at home spending time with her when Jax was killed.”
“And here he is at his rival’s funeral,” said Miles.
“Yes, but he said that was because he was trying to be supportive of Marigold. He said he didn’t care anything about Jax. Why would he?”
Miles ate some of his coleslaw and then swallowed. “I thought I spotted you yelling at Eloise.”
“Don’t be silly. I don’t yell at people.”
“You had that look on your face that said you meant business,” said Miles.
Myrtle sniffed. “It’s better to be direct with some people.”
“Should I ask what was discussed?”
“I think not. I’m just hoping that will be the end of that. It just depends on how much sense Eloise has. I’m starting to suspect she doesn’t have much.”
The rest of the celebration of life service and, indeed, the following day went very quietly for Myrtle. Her article was published in the newspaper and Red was apparently too busy hunting down bad guys to call her or be grouchy about it. She happily ate the different baked concoctions that Miles’s well-meaning women friends brought over to him (and which he quickly delivered over to her).
Even after eating wonderful baked goods (or, perhaps, because of all the carbs sitting like a rock in her tummy), Myrtle had a very difficult time sleeping that night. Finally, around two a.m., Myrtle decided she might as well get up. She puttered around the house a little, but couldn’t seem to focus on anything—not her puzzle book, not the television, not the book she was reading. She decided finally to walk through her backyard and out the gate and down to the sloping path to the lake. Sitting in the rocking chair on her dock and looking out on the water c
ould be soothing.
And indeed, it started that way. The moon wasn’t full, but it was full enough to spill light on the water as it lapped against the dock. The frogs were singing to each other and she could hear crickets chirping, too. Lightning bugs were lighting up here and there as they looked for a mate. The only thing that seemed to break the peaceful vista was a lump in the water. Myrtle really wished people would stop dumping their yard waste into the lake. It was incredibly lazy of them to just chuck it into the water and made for hazards on the lake.
As she looked more closely at the lump, Myrtle wondered what sort of trash it was. It looked almost like part of a log. But then, Myrtle realized it wasn’t part of a log at all—it was a person.
Chapter Eleven
CURSING THE FACT THAT she’d neglected to put her phone in her robe pocket, Myrtle hurried back up the path, leaning heavily on her cane as she went. She pushed through her back door and into her kitchen, grabbing her phone.
Red’s number rang so many times that Myrtle thought it would end up going to voice mail. Finally, he picked up. “Mama,” he said gruffly. “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not okay. Well, I’m okay, but I’m not really.”
Red was starting to sound a little more alert. “Chest pains? Or did you fall down.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m completely fine. Better, at any rate, than the body I just saw floating in the lake behind my house.”
Red now was entirely awake. “I’ll be right there,” he said shortly before hanging up.
Myrtle was now even more restless than she’d been when she’d wandered out to the dock to begin with. She decided to make a large pot of coffee since Red would soon be there and seemed like he might be able to use some caffeine. When there was a tap on the front door, she hurried to open it. But it was Miles.
“I couldn’t sleep and saw your light on,” he said. He sniffed the air and said, “Seems like you’ve already made coffee.”
“Yes, come on in. I thought you were Red.”
Miles raised his eyebrows. “You were expecting Red? At two a.m.?”
“Yes. I called him. There’s a body in the lake behind my house.”
Miles just stared at her.
“It does look as if you could use some coffee, Miles. Here, let’s make you a cup.”
While she was doing that, Red opened the front door and came right on in. He didn’t seem at all surprised to see Miles there and bobbed his head in greeting to him. “Was it just directly out the back?” he asked.
“Straight ahead, unless the water has moved it along. You’ll take the boat, won’t you?” asked Myrtle.
It was Red’s boat—he’d bought it from her years ago. But his house didn’t back up to the water like Myrtle’s did.
He shook his head and said in a somewhat distracted voice, “My deputy is getting the police watercraft out. It shouldn’t be a personal boat for a recovery effort.”
Red walked out and down to the dock as Myrtle and Miles watched him from the back window.
Without much time passing at all, the police watercraft, well-lit and moving slowly, approached Myrtle’s dock. Red was on the dock, directing his deputy and the other men who were aboard.
“Must be the state police with the deputy,” said Myrtle. “I suppose they’re staying here in town for a few days.” She frowned at Miles who was pacing a bit from window to back door to window. “For heaven’s sake, Miles, do you have ants in your pants? I’ve never seen you so restless.”
He sighed. “I just have a bad feeling about this.”
“You’re starting to sound like your cousin Wanda. Next thing we know, you’ll be palm reading.”
Miles kept looking out the window.
“Look, it’s going to take a while for them to recover the body. Besides, Red is unlikely to give us any information at all. Let’s do something while we wait.”
Miles said gloomily, “Wait for what? You just said that Red isn’t going to provide us with any information.”
“That doesn’t mean that I’m not going to try,” said Myrtle. “I should be able to get something, if not from him than from Lieutenant Perkins. In the meantime, we’ll play canasta.”
Miles muttered, “Canasta for two people is sort of a pain.”
“We’ll get fifteen cards apiece and it will be just fine,” said Myrtle with a determined edge to her voice.
They started playing, Miles desolately going through the motions of drawing and discarding cards. There was another rap at Myrtle’s door.
“This place is absurd,” said Myrtle. “I get more foot traffic through my house than an airport does.”
It was Wanda at the door, looking tired, but giving her a big gap-toothed smile.
“Wanda!” said Myrtle. “Miles and I were just talking about you. You didn’t walk here again, did you?”
Wanda shook her head. “Made Dan take me. Took a while to git one of the cars started.”
Myrtle supposed the backfiring noise she heard from the street was Dan’s unsubtle departure.
“Come on in,” said Myrtle, bustling back to the kitchen. Wanda looked at the cards in fascination. Myrtle had introduced her to card games recently and Wanda had quickly taken to them. “Maybe you can take my spot in the game after we get you a snack and some coffee. I need to make another pot.”
Miles said, “Wanda can take my spot. I wasn’t playing very well anyway.”
“No, no. The whole reason we were playing cards to begin with is so you could be distracted,” said Myrtle briskly.
Wanda said, “From the body in the lake.” She gave Miles and Myrtle a knowing look.
Miles shivered. He was never fond of Wanda’s eerie gift.
“I figured you probably knew all about it,” said Myrtle. She paused. “What can you tell us?”
Wanda said in her cigarette-ruined, grating voice, “Miles is gonna get some questions.”
Miles promptly turned pale. He said, stammering a little, “Is it Eloise?”
Wanda gave him a nod, looking very serious.
Miles slumped in his chair. “Oh no.”
Myrtle hurried back into the kitchen and found her bottle of sherry. She poured Miles a generous amount, forgoing her dainty sherry glasses and choosing a regular water glass, and thrust it at him.
He looked glumly at the sherry before taking a small sip.
Myrtle said in a stern voice, “You’re going to need to take a gulp of it, Miles. I want to see your color come back.”
He took a bigger sip, coughed a little, but ultimately looked more like himself. “There now. That’s better.” Myrtle turned to Wanda. “What else do you know about this? I know Red’s not going to tell me much.”
Wanda shook her head. “Not much. Just that she’s been murdered.”
“So she wasn’t out for a night swim that went horribly wrong,” said Myrtle. “Not that I really supposed she had.”
Miles moaned. “They think I did it.”
Myrtle frowned at him. “Drink your sherry. No one who knows you thinks that. Besides, I told Eloise to leave you alone.”
Wanda grated, “Yer gonna git questions, too.”
“Well, I gathered that. And that’s not to say I wasn’t angry with Eloise. She made me furious, chasing poor Miles around.”
Miles gave another moan and Myrtle gave him an irritated look. “Sherry, Miles. You’re going to be just fine. Thanks to me, you haven’t even been around Eloise since before Jax’s service.”
Miles shook his head miserably. “That’s not entirely true. Eloise showed up at my house earlier tonight.”
Myrtle put her hands on her hips. “That scamp!”
Miles sighed. “I thought I was handling it all very well. I didn’t let Eloise force her way into the house like she usually did. I stood on the doorstep and told her very firmly that our relationship was over and that I believed we needed to spend some time apart from each other. Then, perhaps as time passed, we’d be able to at least be friendly a
gain.”
Myrtle snorted. “I can only imagine how she took that.”
Miles nodded. “She was very animated as a result.”
Wanda said in a faraway tone. “An’ Red saw it.”
“Red saw it? Oh no. No wonder you’re going to get some questions, Miles.”
Miles said, “He was getting out of his car across the street when it happened. Eloise was upset and stormed off. Red watched her drive off. I think he had half a mind to pull her over because she was driving way too fast in the neighborhood.”
Myrtle’s back door opened and they hushed up as a serious-looking Red came in. Again, he didn’t seem surprised at all by seeing an additional person at Myrtle’s. “Hi there, Wanda,” he said vaguely.
Wanda gave him a smile.
Red said gruffly, “Now Mama, I realize from your display out on the front lawn that you haven’t been happy about me asking Miles questions.”
Myrtle sniffed.
“But I can’t show any favoritism with a murder investigation. You understand that, don’t you?”
Myrtle narrowed her eyes at him and refused to answer.
He sighed and turned apologetically to Miles. “Eloise was the body in the lake, I’m afraid.”
“Wanda has already informed us of that,” said Myrtle coolly.
Red gave Wanda a suspicious look.
Myrtle said, “And Red, you’ll have to do something about Bingo.”
Red frowned at his mother.
“Eloise’s dog. I’m sure it’s probably alone in her house now.”
Red said, “We’ll have someone take him over to the station. Maybe some of Eloise’s family will want him. Now Miles. I wanted to ask you a few questions about your argument with Eloise earlier tonight. Of course I know the two of you were dating.”
Miles sighed. “I’m afraid we had been.”
Red took out his small notebook and made a note with an equally small pencil. “And that relationship came to an end, you’d said.”
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