Death Pays a Visit : Myrtle Clover #7

Chapter Twenty-Two

There was a very startled and angry and very coherent spate of cursing from Ruby as Myrtle dashed for the bathroom and turned on the light. Where was the lock on the blasted door?

"Did you know there are no locks on the bathrooms here?" Ruby's voice was a disturbing singsong. "Just in case the staff needs to help us, you know. Always so thoughtful here at Greener Pastures."

Myrtle spotted the call button on the wall and pounded on it before bracing herself against the bathroom door.

A tinny voice came from the call box. "Miss Ruby? Do you need some assistance?"

Myrtle groaned. It was Darla, of all people.

"It's not Ruby, it's Myrtle Clover. And, yes, I'm in dire need of assistance. Your resident is a homicidal maniac!"

There was a pregnant pause on the other end. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Clover, I don't think I heard that correctly."

"You heard it! She's going to kill me if you don't get down here right away," roared Myrtle.

A pause again as if that might be very tempting to Darla. "All right," she finally said. "I'm on my way."

The pressure against the bathroom door stopped and Myrtle eased up a little bit, catching her breath. Could she hold Ruby off until help came? What was Ruby doing over there?

She found out a moment later as Ruby screeched and slammed what Myrtle presumed was the baseball bat against the bathroom door. "Hi-yah!" bellowed Ruby.

Part of the door started splintering. Myrtle waited until Ruby yelled out a second hi-yah and then jerked the door open as wide as it would go and Ruby fell into the bathroom as Myrtle scurried around her into the bedroom and to the outside hall.

Myrtle swung her head from side to side searching for curious faces sticking outside of residents' doors. But apparently, everyone in the basement slept like the dead. No one was looking out. And Myrtle could hear Ruby coming toward her.

Myrtle jogged a bit stiffly down the hall, whacking her cane against various doors and yelling, "Help! Help!" Finally, seeing Ruby's furious face, she pulled the fire alarm which set in motion an ear-piercing, light flashing pulsing alarm that would have raised Lazarus, Myrtle was sure of it.

Finally a door was yanked open and Fred, wearing red and white striped pajamas, blinked angrily at her. "What in the Sam Hill—" and Myrtle plowed him over, scrambling to lock the door.

"It's Ruby!" she panted. "She's the killer. She's lost it."

Fred raised a dubious eyebrow. "It sounds to me like you've lost it. Ruby lost it ages ago, don't you remember?"

"She's been faking her fogginess," said Myrtle urgently. "It's all been a hoax."

Ruby gave a strangled scream on the other side of Fred's door and commenced hitting it with the bat.

Fred's eyes grew huge.

"As I was saying. Can you call Miles? And Red, maybe? Or Darrell, the deputy?" Myrtle heard fire trucks in the distance. "Never mind about the police. If the firemen are here, the police will soon follow."

Ruby continued pounding at Fred's door with the bat.

"Miss Ruby!" came an absolutely furious voice from down the hall, barely discernable over the cacophony of the alarm and the yelling and the door beating. "Stop this at once!"

Whereas Myrtle appeared to have no effect on Ruby, Darla's voice, to Myrtle's profound relief, did. The pounding stopped immediately.

Fred nodded his head. "Darla is obnoxious, but she does know how to handle this kind of thing."