Pretty is as Pretty Dies: Myrtle Clover #1

Chapter Four

Red trudged into the courthouse, and pushed the old wooden door of the police station open with his foot, sloshing hot coffee on himself in the process. Cursing, he grabbed a handful of tissues off his desk and dabbed at the spots. He tossed the coffee-stained tissues in the direction of the wastebasket and missed. He cursed again.

Perkins thought for a minute, eyeing Red's coffee-stained shirt and flustered manner. Red had great perspective on the people in Bradley and good general intuition--when he wasn't so preoccupied. He could use his help on the case. "Something going on, Red?"

Red plopped down on the old vinyl sofas in the station lobby, taking a long drag at the remainder of his coffee. "Elaine told me last night that my mother has been going around asking a lot of questions about the case. And she was trying to get information from you when you were questioning her, too. I guess she thinks she can save the town single-handedly from its vicious killer."

Perkins said in a thoughtful tone, "I don't remember your mom being all that interested, besides just normal curiosity. Murders don't happen every day here, after all. She's probably just going after the latest gossip is all."

"I'd like to believe that's all it is. But you don't really know my mother."

He stopped talking when the door to the station pushed open and Myrtle walked in. Red rolled his eyes at Perkins in exasperation and walked behind the desk, fumbling with some papers to let Perkins handle their visitor.

Myrtle had thought out different ways to approach the whole Benton Chambers situation. Although the thought of plowing into the police station and bellowing out the identity of the killer was certainly tempting, she thought she'd play her cards better than that. She wanted to really impress Red and Lieutenant Perkins and finding out a random tip from a muumuued woman in a powder room wouldn't properly showcase all her analytical skills. She decided she would go to the police station and give them a few of her other observations. See how they reacted. Then she'd really knock them out when she handed them the name of the murderer on a silver platter.

"Mrs. Clover," said Perkins in a cautious voice. "Did you forget to include something in your statement the other day?"

"Nothing I forgot, Lt. Perkins. But I did want to tell you something I'd noticed and see if you can get to the bottom of it."

Perkins pulled out a small notepad and poised his pencil over the paper. "What did you notice?"

"Kitty is troubled about something."

Lt. Perkins drew his notebook closer and poised his pen. "Did she confide in you, Mrs. Clover?"

Myrtle nodded sagely. "Oh yes. But you could tell she was incredibly preoccupied even before she spoke to me. She said it's because she thought y'all considered her a probable suspect, but there's more to it than that. Her make-up, you know."

"Makeup," Perkins repeated slowly. Red snickered in the background.

Myrtle wagged her finger at him. "Not just her makeup. The muumuu, too."

"Mmm-hmm."

"She usually takes so much care over her appearance you know. Nails. Hair. Cute clothes. A little too cutesy for me, but well-kempt."

Perkins closed his eyes for a moment and Myrtle gave him a sharp look. "You should get more sleep, Detective. Anyway, as I was saying, her appearance has really taken a dive lately. Something is on her mind...she knows something about Parke Stockard's murder."

Perkins tuned back in. "Instead of merely being upset by Mrs. Stockard's murder?"

Myrtle snorted. "No one was upset by Parke Stockard's murder. You haven't been paying attention. And it occurred to me that Parke Stockard must have been troubled, too."