Myrtle and Miles walked toward Miles's Volvo. Miles said, "Bonnie said that Amos was acting weird at your dinner party. That's not really a good sign for the future of their relationship."
Myrtle scoffed. "Bonnie wouldn't know flirting if it hit her in the face. But she might understand an email or an invitation to a date a little better. Besides, she's unemployed right now and at loose ends. Who am I to stand in the way of true love?"
Miles gave up. "Okay, well, it's the middle of the day now. Are we going to try and hunt down more suspects? We've got plenty of hours left to do it. What's our next move?"
"I want to find out more about that argument that Felix had with Chester. Let's try to scout him out," said Myrtle, climbing into Miles's car.
Miles said, "How exactly do you propose to do that? We don't just usually run into Felix, do we?"
"We should beard the lion in his den. Let's go right to his house and knock on the door. He knows I write for the paper and we'll just explain that I'm trying to get a little background information for my story," said Myrtle.
Miles started the car, looking worried. "I don't know, Myrtle. He seems like a nice guy, but I doubt your excuse is going to make him want to talk to us. He'll probably come up with some excuse."
"Are you kidding me? He's a politician. All politicians love the press."
They drove back to Bradley and right through downtown. Myrtle was looking idly out the window when she suddenly sat up. "Stop the car!"
Miles obediently stopped right in the middle of the street, making a guy in a truck behind him honk at him. He turned red. "I certainly hope there was an emergency that required me to stop in the road."
"You're so literal, Miles! I only meant that you should park it. It's Hattie—still speaking to a Realtor, but about to come out. She's another one who's hard to catch up with."
Miles, gritting his teeth, parked the car. Myrtle hopped out and onto the sidewalk in enough time to affect casual surprise when Hattie finally walked out the door of the real estate office.
"Hattie! What a surprise to see you, dear," purred Myrtle. "And you were seeing a Realtor? Are you house shopping?"
Hattie's look of irritation was quickly masked by a tight smile. "It's more like house selling."
"I see. Your uncle's home, then."
Hattie said, "Yes. It's a great house, but it's way too big for one person. Not that Uncle Chester would ever admit something like that. And, well, it's just not my style." She gave a shiver as if the white columned, plantation-style home gave her nightmares. Hattie was the sort who probably would prefer to live in a loft in the middle of a big city. "Plus, I heard that the market was very good right now."
Myrtle nodded. Wanda's horoscopes at work again. Seller's market.
Then she gave them both a sharp look. "I hope you're not thinking that I'm some greedy relative excited about getting my uncle's money."
Myrtle said, "No, I think you're being smart to talk to a Realtor and start the process of selling."
The defensive look on Hattie's face disappeared. "Sorry," she muttered. "I just heard it from Louvenia and then it made me think that everybody felt the same way."
"When did Louvenia say that?" asked Myrtle, frowning.
Hattie gave a short laugh. "At your dinner party. It was after she'd gotten really smashed, though. She probably wouldn't have said anything otherwise. At the beginning of the party, she was fine and we were talking about local art venues and interesting restaurants. But later, she was telling me that I was low-class and would probably end up spending Chester's money on tattoos. And said something about being cheated out of a restaurant?" Hattie shook her head. "But she was messed up."
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Cooking is Murder, A Myrtle Clover Mystery #11
Mystery / ThrillerMyrtle has decided that she's actually a very good cook. In fact, she feels she's such a good cook that she elects to hone her skills at a cooking school. She persuades her reluctant friend Miles to join her, convinced they both could use some insp...