A Body in the Trunk : Myrtle Clover Book 12

Chapter Fourteen

After they finished their lunch and made their goodbyes with Perkins (who had been visibly more relaxed and even a bit fun after Myrtle stopped asking about the case), Myrtle and Miles headed into the parking lot.

"Where to now?" asked Miles.

"I'm thinking that I should check in with Sloan at the paper. Since he tried to tread on my territory with the first murder, I'm wondering if he'll try the same thing with the second," said Myrtle. She started walking in the direction of the Bradley Bugle.

"Plus, you want to play matchmaker," said Miles, rolling his eyes as he followed her.

"I wouldn't dream of matchmaking. Sally hasn't even had a funeral service for Lyle yet. However, I'd simply like to point out what a nice person Sally is. Plant a seed in his mind, you know," said Myrtle.

Sloan was the lone inhabitant of the newsroom, making his way through the piles of paper and photographs in the dim light like a mole. He glanced up in surprise as light from outdoors came streaming through the door with Myrtle and Miles. "Oh, hi," he said, flustered as he usually was when in Myrtle's presence. He smoothed what little bit of hair he had down and straightened his rumpled shirt. "Miss Myrtle—it's good to see you."

"Hi, Sloan," she said. "I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page with the coverage of Lyle Solomon's death. It's part of my Neil Albert story, since the deaths are clearly connected."

"Are they? I just found out about Lyle's death a couple of hours ago. I figured they were probably related, considering that Bradley couldn't have two random murders in one week's time. Sure, that's your story. Of course." Sloan seemed very eager to please.

Myrtle thought that he seemed a little too eager to please. "Once again, I'm surprised that you're so happy to relinquish a crime story to me. Ordinarily, you worry about what Red will say."

Sloan flushed. "That's true. But you know how much a newspaper relies on good working relationships and tips from local cops. Plus, Red can be pretty persuasive when he wants to be. But no, he came by to see me about the story, as a matter of fact." Sloan's broad face wrinkled in concern. "He wanted to see if I could throw a couple of extra stories your way. Something about you having money troubles?" Sloan's voice was apologetic.

Myrtle gritted her teeth. "That's a fabrication of Red's. He added two plus two and came up with twenty. But never mind. I want the story, after all; it doesn't really matter how I acquire it." She paused. "Although it's a rather terrible story, isn't it? Poor Lyle. And poor Sally."

"Have you talked to her? Sally, I mean?" asked Sloan with a lilt of curiosity in his voice.

Miles gave Myrtle a hard look.

Myrtle said, "As a matter of fact, Miles and I went over there this morning to deliver some broccoli soup to Sally."

Miles interjected hurriedly, "It was Myrtle's concoction, actually. I had nothing to do with it."

Sloan frowned, looking even more concerned. "Homemade?"

Miles said, "Tippy was also there helping out and she made sure to label it."

Myrtle waved her hand in annoyance. "Tippy acts as if she knows everything. Labeling the food so that Sally can send thank-yous? As if I need a thank-you note later. Sally has more important things to do than to carefully write notes to everyone who provided her with a meal."

Sloan and Miles exchanged a cryptic look and then Sloan quickly nodded. "I'm sure she does. Is she holding up all right?"

"Actually, she's holding up extremely well. She isn't as broken up as you'd think—I got the impression that she and Lyle had grown apart somewhat during the course of their marriage. I believe she's ready to move on. And she's just such a nice woman," said Myrtle with great emphasis.