Murder on Opening Night: Myrtle Clover #9

Chapter Seventeen

It seemed as though the entire town of Bradley was at this funeral reception. But Myrtle wasn't surprised. The house was excessively large by Bradley standards and many residents had probably never been inside. If you added the element of curiosity and the fact that most of the town had at least a passing acquaintance with Josie from the library, it was easy to see why the turnout was so large.

Finally the line of people abated and Myrtle had the opportunity to help with the clearing up before heading off with determination to find Miles and see how his interview with Cady had gone. To her surprise, she saw him still sitting with her in the large living room. Erma gave her a sympathetic moue which made her blood pressure creep up.

The living room was packed with people holding plates and glasses and perching on various sofas, chairs, and even gingerly on the sturdier tables. It was a big room with a lot of furniture in it, all from different time periods. There were no places to sit, but when Myrtle gave her encore performance of "the frail old lady," another gentleman hopped immediately up and offered his chair to her. She took it.

"Miss Myrtle!" said Cady, beaming at her. Then she looked slightly abashed. "I suppose I shouldn't be this cheerful. It's a funeral, after all."

"No, dear, it's a funeral reception. And those frequently get lively," said Myrtle.

Cady smiled at her. "Miles and I were just talking about engineering. I took a few engineering classes in high school before I decided to focus on the arts."

"Is that so?" asked Myrtle sweetly. But she gave Miles a sour look when Cady wasn't watching. He was supposed to be asking her about Roscoe's murder, not about engineering, for heaven's sake.

Miles colored a bit. "When I start talking about engineering, I suppose I can get carried away. Sorry, Cady."

Cady's eyes twinkled at him. "Oh no, I loved it. Part of me really misses engineering. The organization, the planning. The math."

"How did you end up at the theater? It seems most disorganized and sort of haphazard," said Myrtle. "And there's not much math to be seen outside the ticket booth." She was hoping now to segue into Roscoe's death, although she wasn't exactly sure how she was going to do it from here.

"I was dating someone who was involved in a community theater. It was in a different town. Once I started hanging at that theater, I caught the bug," said Cady ruefully.

Miles said, "You should watch yourself at this particular theater. It might have been safer to stick with engineering."

He was sounding positively avuncular. Myrtle decided he really did need to spend some time with his grandchildren. She would have to figure out how to make that happen.

At least Miles was able to move the subject over to murder. Cady's eyelashes lowered over her large eyes. "That's for sure. I can't believe what happened to Roscoe. He was a nice guy—always nice to me, anyway. He totally got my sudden obsession with the theater because he'd been the same way. That was why, I guess, he married Josie to start off with. Her money meant he could spend more time learning his lines and just hanging out in a theater."