A Body at Bunco : Myrtle Clover #8

Chapter Nineteen

 John Kessler walked into the kitchen. He'd always reminded Myrtle of a stork with his long neck and tall, thin frame. He wore glasses with black frames and had a kind smile. He reached out to shake their hands but Miles shook his head, "I'll refrain from the handshake since I've recently been ill."

Myrtle said, "Although he's been using hand sanitizer every five minutes. I don't believe you can find a more germ-free handshake anywhere."

"I appreciate the heads-up, though," said John. "That's probably the last thing we need over here—a virus."

Myrtle clucked. "You've both have had a hard time, haven't you?"

"It hasn't been easy. It would be better if the police would leave Mimsy alone." John stopped short and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I forgot for a second I was talking to the police chief's mother."

"Believe me, no offence taken. There are plenty of times when I'm mad at him, too," said Myrtle.

"The thing is that Mimsy had nothing to do with all of this. She was very fond of Luella and terribly upset about her demise. And this other lady? I'm sorry; I don't know her very well." John gave Myrtle and Miles a questioning look.

"Alma," supplied Miles.

"That's right. Anyway, Mimsy's been nothing but helpful to Alma in the past. Always brought her fresh vegetables from our garden because she thought she could use them. Things like that," said John.

"Besides," said Myrtle, "I suppose you're her alibi, aren't you? Since Alma's murder happened so late at night."

John said, "Unfortunately, I'm not. I'm just sort of a character witness. I think that's one reason why the police are still considering Mimsy a suspect—because I was out of town that night. I was interviewing for a job position. Mimsy thinks someone might be trying to set her up ... between Mimsy's earring planted at the crime scene and the fact that I wasn't at home to provide her with an alibi. It's almost like someone planned it that way."

Miles eyes widened in alarm as John Kessler pulled a serving spoon out of a drawer, uncovered the casserole, and scooped out a large portion onto a plate.

"Oh, are you considering a position out of town?" asked Myrtle.

John got a fork out of the drawer. "I'm considering any position, anywhere. Management jobs aren't easy to find and I was downsized some time ago." He gestured to the casserole. "Won't the two of you join us? I can set the table and we can all enjoy this."

Miles made a strangled sound. Myrtle scowled at him and then said politely to John, "Thanks, but we brought it for you. Miles isn't completely a hundred-percent well yet."

Miles, as a matter of fact was starting to look as if his health were rapidly regressing. He was pale and rather haggard looking as he stared at John's plate in horrified fascination.