Cooking is Murder, A Myrtle Clover Mystery #11

Chapter Seven

 Myrtle spent the rest of the day writing the news article. She read it over with satisfaction and emailed it to Sloan as promised.

Once it was done, she realized in surprise that she was sleepy. Myrtle rarely slept and was beset by insomnia, a condition that she simply learned to incorporate into her life. But tonight, she was actually tired. Capitalizing on the unusual feeling, she got ready for bed as quickly as possible, climbed under the sheets, and turned off the light.

In her dream, there was a white rabbit insistently tapping at her front door. It wasn't until the doorbell rang that Myrtle sat up in bed. "Miles," she said.

She pulled on a robe and sleepily wandered to her front door. Myrtle peered out in the off-chance that she would see a white rabbit out there. But, as she expected, it was Miles, dressed in khakis and a button-down shirt.

Myrtle opened the door. "You didn't have to dress up, you know."

"I wasn't going to walk over here in my pajamas."

Myrtle said, "That's what I always do. In my nightgown with my robe and slippers."

"Which is likely one of the reasons Erma is convinced we're a couple," reminded Miles.

He followed Myrtle into her kitchen and sat down at the table while she made coffee and pulled out a jar of cookies.

Miles studied Myrtle as she dealt out a couple of napkins on the table. "You were asleep!" he said in great surprise.

"I do sleep occasionally, you know." Myrtle put cream and sugar on the table.

"Not at this time of night," said Miles.

"No, not usually. But it was a busy day. And then I had a lot of stressful nonsense with Puddin, as per usual. I capped it all off by writing a story for Sloan. I guess I was worn out." Myrtle finally sat down and they drank their coffee in silence for a minute or two.

"So, nothing from yesterday bothered you enough to keep you awake," mulled Miles.

"Yesterday? No. I regretted outliving one of my former students, but that seems to happen every day since I taught just about everyone in this town. But it certainly wasn't going to keep me awake." She peered at Miles over the rim of her coffee cup. "Chester's death is keeping you awake? You didn't even know the man aside from his billboards."

Miles sighed. "No. Nor would I have wanted to know him, from what I gather. What's bothering me is Wanda's creepy prediction."

"Her prediction? You mean her warning. It's just a warning, you know. She warns me all the time and I simply keep my head up and my eyes open and make sure to get myself out of danger when I finally experience it." Myrtle shrugged.

"Precisely why I'm unable to sleep. I feel the need to stay on guard." Miles shivered.

"You'll be fine, I'm sure. No one is going to break into your house and murder you in your sleep, you know. We have no idea what Wanda could be warning you about. Maybe you need to watch your step walking down stairs. Maybe you should be very careful while shaving in the mornings."

"It seemed to be food-related," said Miles. He morosely looked down at the cookies on his napkin.

"You don't really know that. Wanda simply juxtaposed a quotation from Aesop and a warning. Besides, I don't think you have to worry about store-bought cookies. Put it in perspective, Miles. The closest we've been to danger lately is in that cooking school class. I'd imagine we just need to stay sharp when we're around the likely suspects," said Myrtle.