Death of a Suitor #18

Chapter Seventeen

"Isn't it?" said Myrtle. She put down her tote bag and gave Jack a huge hug. He ran off to bring her a toy to show her. Lieutenant Perkins rose from the sofa to greet her and she gave him a hug. "So nice to see you again, Perkins!"

Red was still looking at the tote bag with distrust. "What's this culinary triumph you were talking about?"

"Pudding. It's absolutely delicious."

"Is it? Have you tasted it, Mama? Because it seems to me that not sampling your own recipes is one of your failings."

Perkins seemed to be concealing a smile.

Myrtle said breezily, "I didn't have to taste it. I just gave it a visual inspection. It looked just fine and will be a perfect dessert for our dinner."

Red glowered at her. "You're not planning on staying for dinner?"

"Well, of course I am! Goodness, Red, you're acting as if you and I never enjoy a meal together."

Red gave Perkins an apologetic look.

"I'm delighted at the opportunity to visit with you, Mrs. Clover," Perkins said promptly.

Myrtle beamed at him. "We'll have a wonderful time, won't we?"

Red said, "The problem, Mama, is that you're here with an agenda."

"An agenda? What a silly thing to say, Red. My agenda is simply to have a nice visit, see my darling grandson, and distribute puddings."

"I think the agenda has more to do with the signs your gnomes are holding. I was hoping that the rainstorm the other night would have destroyed them, but no such luck," said Red.

Myrtle said smugly, "That's because I carefully put them in gallon-sized zipper bags."

"Very ingenious," said Perkins.

Myrtle smiled at him. "I thought so. And since we're already on the topic—"

"Here it comes," said Red with a sigh.

"I wondered if Miles is no longer considered a suspect. I suppose I should also ask about myself, since I believe I might have been under suspicion, too."

"Mama, no one seriously thinks an octogenarian is drowning people in the lake," said Red, rolling his eyes.

"Well, that's certainly very shortsighted of them."

Red said, "So now you're trying to talk yourself into being a suspect?"

"I'm just saying that I could have done it. I didn't, but I could have. I had no motive to kill Jax, of course, but that Eloise drove me up a wall. Besides, she was most unfair to Miles."

"That's the part that makes Miles a suspect," pointed out Red.

"As if Miles could harm anybody or anything. If you look up the word 'innocuous' in the dictionary, it probably has a photo of Miles by the entry."

Red muttered, "It sure won't have a photo of the puddings you brought."

Perkins seemed to be trying to cover up that smile again. Then he quickly said, "I don't think anyone seriously considers Mr. Bradford a suspect, Mrs. Clover."

Myrtle folded her hands in her lap and looked satisfied. "That's good to hear. I might have another question or two."

Red put his head in his hands.

"Stop being so dramatic, Red. Curiosity is a good thing. It's supposed to slow cognitive decline. Anyway, I was wondering about Eloise's untimely death. Have you narrowed down the time it happened?"