Death at a Drop-In: Myrtle Clover #5

Chapter Six

Chapter Six 

A very small, fluffy-looking old lady answered the door. She gave them a bright smile. "You're here to see Lucas I suppose, aren't you, dears? I'm afraid he's not well and isn't up to seeing anyone. Won't you come inside? I'm his sister, Hazel." She beamed at them and opened the door wide. 

For once, Myrtle didn't object to the endearment. Although she was very sensitive to being called sweetheart, dear, or darling by younger people, being called dear by a peer (even one a good fifteen years younger), wasn't as objectionable.  

Myrtle was always most unsettled by old ladies who did the old lady act better than she did. This particular old lady was an excellent example. She wore her white hair back in a bun, wore green cat eye spectacles attached to a chain, a cardigan, pearls, and a sweet smile. Myrtle decided that the only thing that could possibly maker her even more of the old lady stereotype would be if she offered them milk and cookies. 

"Can I interest y'all in some milk and cookies?" asked Hazel, her blue eyes twinkling behind the cat eye glasses. 

"I'd love some," said Miles. 

"I wouldn't mind some myself," said Myrtle. "I'll help you with them while I put my soup away. It's baked potato soup. Hearty stuff." 

"Sounds scrumptious," said the little old lady with a tinkling laugh. 

Myrtle put her soup in the fridge and set the crackers on the kitchen table. While Hazel was busily getting out some homemade cookies from a jar, Myrtle glanced out the kitchen window. There appeared to be a perfect view of the backyard from the window. Lucas could have easily spotted Cosette from here, bolted outside, killed her, and run back in to continue in the kitchen as if nothing had happened. 

As she left the kitchen to go back to the small living room, Hazel chatting all the way, she saw that Lucas's bedroom door was tightly shut. She felt a pang. The poor, stodgy old fellow. He'd really seemed to care about Cosette-for whatever reason. Maybe the soup would actually be good for him if he felt so terrible. 

Myrtle tuned back in to Hazel's rambling monologue. "It's such a tragedy, isn't it?" Hazel tutted. 

Myrtle assumed Hazel was talking about Cosette's death. She said cautiously, "Well, death usually is. Very sad." 

Miles rolled his eyes at her. She must have gotten the topic wrong. 

Hazel blinked at her, all wide-eyed. "Oh dear. I'm mumbling again. Unless, you're hard of hearing, which I certainly am. I have to wear a special device." 

Miles quickly interjected before they were subjected to a bellowing Hazel, "Myrtle isn't hard of hearing. Only hard of listening." 

Hazel resumed her twinkling. "I see. Myrtle, I was only saying that it was tragic that there's been a delay in having a funeral. The police decided on an autopsy. I do think that funerals are wonderful for closure. Perhaps Lucas will feel some closure once we're able to properly celebrate Cosette's life with a service." 

Myrtle nodded although she didn't believe in closure. It all sounded like psychology hocus-pocus to her. Time worked best, in her experience. As for funerals, she'd personally haunt anyone who treated hers as a cause for celebration. The very idea! 

A change of subject was clearly in order. "You must be a huge help for Lucas right now. Are y'all very close?" 

Hazel said, "We are, although I don't get a chance to visit as much as I'd like. I live in Charlotte, so it's a bit of a drive to Bradley. But I was here only a few weeks ago for a long weekend visit. So sad. I had no idea that would be the last time I'd see Cosette. Such a pity! She was such a sweet, sweet girl."