Cooking is Murder, A Myrtle Clover Mystery #11

Chapter Two

Myrtle gasped. "Wanda! What on earth are you doing way out here?"

Miles subconsciously patted his wallet. Wanda, a psychic who lived in perpetually dire straits, was a cousin of his. A rather needy cousin. He said absently, "Surely we're closer to Wanda's house than we are to our own. Wanda lives far out."

Wanda, wearing dark pants that hung on her thin frame and an equally ill-fitting top, grimaced in greeting. "Decided I'd come by."

"But how?" spluttered Miles. "I didn't even know I'd be here myself until Myrtle railroaded me."

"Because she's psychic, Miles. For heaven's sake, don't you pay attention?" said Myrtle with asperity. She looked at Wanda with a critical eye. Wanda had gone through a spell where she didn't only look thin, but looked as if she wasn't feeling well to boot. Myrtle was relieved to see that her friend was looking strong and much less frail than she had been. "Wanda, you're looking well."

Wanda nodded. "Writin' horoscopes pays good," she said gruffly. "And done stopped smokin'."

Miles, always somewhat afraid he might end up on the hook for Wanda's healthcare, looked relieved. "Well now, that is good news. You've got to be feeling so much healthier and better."

"More fidgety and nervous," Wanda said with a shrug of a thin shoulder. "But eatin' better with that good money from the paper."

Myrtle supposed that Wanda's new gig at the local paper paid more than she and her brother had been making selling fortunes, peanuts, and live bait from their remote home off a rarely traveled highway. Although she suspected that most people wouldn't call the money 'good.'

Miles said somewhat uneasily, "But what are you doing here, Wanda? You weren't planning on attending class with us, were you?"

Wanda looked at him solemnly with unblinking dark eyes. "Had a message fer you."

"For Miles?" asked Myrtle with great surprise. "But usually the messages are for me. You're always trying to relay that I'm in danger."

Wanda said, "I got a general-purpose message, too. 'A crust eaten in peace is better than a banquet partaken in anxiety.'"

Now Myrtle and Miles both gaped at Wanda.

"What's that ... Shakespeare?" asked Miles of Myrtle, the retired English teacher.

"I rather think it's Aesop," said Myrtle thoughtfully. Then she demanded, "Wanda! What on earth do you mean?"

Miles suddenly smiled. "She's obviously against your dinner party plans, Myrtle."

"What's the message relating to Miles? And why are you suddenly so concerned about him? And how did you find this quotation?" asked Myrtle, hand on her hip as she leaned on her cane with the other.