Pretty is as Pretty Dies: Myrtle Clover #1

Chapter Fifteen

Kitty's compact car was parked nearby. Myrtle moved to open the door and Miles's arm shot out to stop her. "We need to call Red on this one. The murderer still could be lurking around. And who knows what kind of clues we could be tampering with if we trample in there?"

"I don't plan on trampling, Miles. But I do think we have a responsibility to see if Kitty-or whoever it is-is breathing. We could help her. I'll get right back in the car. For heaven's sake, no one's going to attack me with your headlights shining like a spotlight. They'd be nuts."

"They must be nuts, Myrtle."

"I'll tread softly."

Myrtle grasped her cane and moved cautiously forward. She wanted to see clues herself and had no intention of destroying anything. The ground was uneven and rocky, which caused her to move even more carefully. When Myrtle got within several feet of the figure, she saw that it was Kitty Kirk and that there was no question that she was dead from a blow to the head. A cement cross that must have broken off a tombstone was lying next to her. Standing very still, Myrtle also noticed, in the glare of the headlights, something out of the corner of her eye. Leaning forward on her cane, she peered at the object on the ground, then walked to the car where Miles was already talking on his cell phone. She opened her mouth to speak and Miles held up a hand.

"That's right, Red." He winced a little and held the phone away from his ear. "No, you didn't misunderstand me. Right. No, she's right here in the car with me. I'll see you in a minute."

"Sounds like someone wasn't a happy camper?" asked Myrtle with a smirk.

Miles leaned back onto the headrest. "You could say that. I don't think he was excited to have another murdered body on his watch and he was especially disturbed at having his mother discover the body-again."

"At least we're helping him out. An extra set of eyes."

Miles was about to answer that he didn't think Red viewed it that way when Myrtle waved him quiet. "Let me tell you what I found, Miles. Uh-besides poor Kitty, of course. I also saw a checkbook on the ground ... Cecil Stockard's checkbook." Her voice was high with excitement.

"Cecil?"

Myrtle nodded impatiently. "Yes, we were all wrong, Miles, all wrong. We should have been thinking about Cecil all along. He was the one who gambled, who used and sold drugs. He was the one who needed money and probably thought his mom's death would solve all his financial problems."

Miles frowned. "But wouldn't he know the way the will was set up? That his sister and charities would be getting the bulk of her money?"

"Why would he? He had every right to assume that his mother would remember him in her will."

"But you told me when you talked with Cecil at the funeral that he claimed he knew that his mother planned to basically write him out of her will. And that she was a lot more useful to him alive than dead."

"Well, maybe he was just saying that to throw me off track. The fact is, his checkbook at the scene of a crime. I guess we were right-Kitty did have some information and intended to blackmail the murderer to get some money. And Kitty didn't have any love for Cecil anyway-he was the one that introduced her son to drugs, remember? So she would really have wanted to stick it to him. Rattle his cage a little. He probably figured she'd be holding it over him her whole life-and decided to end it prematurely," said Myrtle.

Miles nodded his head slowly. "It does make sense. But Cecil wouldn't have been able to pay Kitty anything; he was broke."

"But Kitty wouldn't have known that. She didn't exactly call up Cecil for social chats. She'd have thought he had a big chunk of Parke's fortune and that he owed it to her to share. And Cecil would have almost had to have killed Kitty-he knew he couldn't possibly pay her demands either now or over time."