A Body in the Trunk : Myrtle Clover Book 12

Chapter Fifteen

Myrtle and Miles exchanged a glance. Myrtle said, "You see, Lyle was murdered at the park this morning. He apparently went out there early in the mornings to fill the feeders and clear the paths. Maybe Amber was picking up on something."

Clara's eyes opened wide. "Then she's a little heroine for getting me out of there! In the park with a killer? Ugh." She hesitated and then sighed. "That does make me sound really insensitive. Poor Lyle. I was sorry to hear that he was dead. And poor Sally, too. I know what she's going through now. I'll have to go over and visit."

"You were on good terms with Lyle?" asked Myrtle.

"I wouldn't have said that we were best friends or anything, but we never had a problem with each other. And it was easier to be civil once Neil died. The argument was between the men, really," said Clara.

"Did you ever engage in an argument with Lyle over dog mess?" asked Myrtle, tilting her head to one side.

"What? Who is doing all this gossiping? Or, in this case, lying. I never argued with anyone over dog mess. And I didn't kill Lyle, if that's something else that people are saying." Clara was now looking really annoyed.

Miles said in a comforting voice, "No one has said anything about you killing Lyle."

Myrtle said, "Do you have any ideas who might have wanted to murder him?"

Clara shrugged, clearly done with their conversation and wanting to return to her gardening. "No idea. He was probably just someone who knew too much."

Myrtle frowned. "It seems like I wanted to ask you something else, but I can't remember what it was."

Miles said, "It's just as well, because we really should be going. You wanted to check and see if Puddin had finished cleaning, right?"

Myrtle nodded and Clara said, "That's your cleaning lady? I was thinking I might want one now. Could you give me her name and number?"

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of inflicting Puddin on you," said Myrtle. "You should ask someone like Tippy who she uses. I'm just stuck with Puddin. She's in my price range and I've employed her too long."

"Well, I certainly like the job your Dusty has done in the yard," said Clara beaming. "Thanks for sending him my way. He came by to check and see how I liked his mowing and if I needed to be on his schedule next week. We chatted a little. He's really very witty, once you get to know him. Such a delight!"

Myrtle was too stunned by the accolades for Dusty to do anything other than nod.

They made their goodbyes and drove back to Myrtle's house. Myrtle said, "The only reason she liked Dusty's yardwork is because her own yard was so awful. And are we sure it was Dusty who stopped by? He has a schedule? I very much doubt that. And if he was witty and a delight, perhaps he's been dipping into the cooking sherry. My yard is a complete disaster. Despite the fact that Dusty scalped my yard because he still isn't used to the new mower, the rain made my grass grow like a weed. Now it needs to be cut again and I have no hope of being able to get him out to my house. Between his mowing, the grass growing between the gnomes, and Elaine's pitiful attempts at landscaping, my yard is doomed. It's just as well that Lyle Solomon isn't around anymore. I'm sure I'd be on his hit list."

Miles said, "At least it's mowed regularly. I think tall grass is the only thing that Lyle really had a problem with." His phone started ringing from the center console of the car. "Can you grab that, Myrtle?"

Myrtle gave him a droll look and answered, "Miles Bradford's answering service. Myrtle speaking." She paused. "Oh, hi, Blanche."

Miles rolled his eyes, which alarmed Myrtle, since he was pulling into her driveway and needed not to hit her house. She waved a hand at him.