The sound of an approaching emergency vehicle made them turn.
“The ambulance?” asked Philomena, looking hopeful.
“The police,” said Myrtle succinctly.
Tippy sighed and brushed a miniscule speck from her immaculate white slacks. “I’m certainly glad it’s over.”
Philomena said, “I would have gotten away with it if it hadn’t been for Puddin.”
Puddin gave her a baffled look through narrowed eyes, having no idea how she had played any role in the proceedings whatsoever.
Myrtle said, “If Wanda hadn’t led me to where you were attempting Puddin’s murder, we wouldn’t have had proof to take to the police. As it happens, we now have two excellent witnesses.”
Wanda seemed to stand a bit taller as she grinned at Myrtle.
Red jogged up to their group with the ambulance arriving a couple of minutes later. Red took Puddin aside first to interview and Myrtle could hear Puddin’s animated account from yards away. Now that Puddin realized that she was off the hook for the murders, she was her old, sassy self again.
“An’ I solved the case, too. That’s why she wanted to kill me,” said Puddin loudly.
Lieutenant Perkins arrived and he was speaking with Erma. Erma was also bragging about her exploits. “And I waved the shovel at Philomena. I could tell she thought it was all over. It reminded me of this time when I had this horrible stomach virus . . . .”
Myrtle sighed. Poor Lieutenant Perkins. First, he was speaking to Erma and then he was going to have to suspend his disbelief and interview Wanda.
Sloan appeared with his date some distance behind him. His eyes wide he mouthed, “You okay?” Myrtle nodded and mouthed, “My story.” Sloan nodded and started taking pictures for the paper.
The gala was over and everyone was heading to their cars, craning their necks to figure out what was going on with the police cars, ambulance, golf cart, newspaper editor taking pictures, and assorted group of gala attendees. Finally, Red and Lieutenant Perkins questioned Myrtle. Puddin had fallen asleep by then, curled up in the golf cart.
Lieutenant Perkins listened attentively to Myrtle’s story, carefully making notes. Red listened, too, although he made short, exasperated sounds whenever Wanda’s name figured into the narrative. Perkins said at the end, “So, in your opinion, Amos was killed for revenge.”
Myrtle said, “That’s right. Because Philomena had always been babied. She’d always gotten her way. She couldn’t handle rejection. And then Gabriel’s death was all to protect her from discovery. Gabriel was determined to tease her with the information . . . he never planned on profiting from it. Instead, he found himself murdered.”
Lieutenant Perkins nodded soberly. “Well, Mrs. Clover, I think that’s all I have for you for tonight. I hope you can go home and get some rest. It’s been a long night for you.” A state policeman called him away and he added, “Excuse me.”
Red said, “Mama, I hope you know that you had a lucky escape. Philomena was nobody to be messed with.”
Myrtle said, “It seems to me that Puddin had the lucky escape. I was never in any danger.” She paused. “Are you following me home tonight for some food? Unless you’ve succumbed to the uber-healthy diet?”
Red grinned. “No. Elaine has given up her healthy living agenda. She decided that the food was making me gain weight.”
“Excellent!” said Myrtle. “Clearly she wasn’t clued in that you were consuming full bags of potato chips at my house.”
“Fingers crossed that the next hobby doesn’t involve me at all,” said Red.
Myrtle tapped Puddin, who continued snoring until Myrtle shook her by the shoulder. “Lemme go!” muttered Puddin without opening her eyes.
“It’s time to go home,” said Myrtle.
Miles and Wanda were already walking to the car as Puddin and Myrtle started slowly following them.
Miles drove to Puddin’s house first. Puddin opened the car door and then turned to Wanda. “Thank you. I’m glad yer a witch.”
Wanda gave her a tired smile and a wave as Puddin left.
Myrtle said, “Why don’t you stay over at my house tonight, Wanda? It’s a long drive home, after all. Besides, you wanted to watch the video of the lecture, didn’t you? Or will Dan worry about you?”
Wanda gave a croaky laugh at the thought of her brother being concerned by her absence. “Nope. Sounds good.”
Myrtle said, “Miles, you’re not sleepy after all this, are you?”
He shook his head. “Exhausted, yes. Sleepy, no.”
“Let’s play our Scrabble game for a while then. Maybe that will settle us down. And I even have a few snacks in the house since Red hasn’t been back to raid my kitchen,” said Myrtle.
And that’s what they did. Wanda curled up on the sofa with Miles’s phone, listening to the lecture and nodding to herself. Miles and Myrtle faced off over the Scrabble table again. Myrtle gave a Cheshire cat smile. On her next move, she used tiles to spell out victorious.
Cleaning is Murder Page 19