Hushed Up--Myrtle Clover Mystery #15

Chapter Three

A few minutes later, Miles got into his car and Myrtle climbed reluctantly back into Erma's. She hadn't been quick enough to think of a good excuse to ride there with Miles.

It was the ride over to the diner that was most annoying to Myrtle.

Erma said with a sidelong glance, "You don't think Wanda did this, do you? I'm just asking because you always do that detecting work."

Myrtle swung around to glare at Erma. "What on earth are you implying?" she asked coldly.

Erma kept on going, not even registering Myrtle's displeasure. "Wanda knew something."

"Of course she knew something. She is psychic." Myrtle glared at Erma.

"Wanda knew Lillian was going to die," persisted Erma.

"Wanda knew Lillian was in danger and felt a responsibility to warn her of that. Because she didn't think she'd be taken seriously, Wanda asked me to relay the information. If Lillian was too foolhardy to pay attention, that's completely her own fault and absolutely nothing to do with Wanda."

Erma was still apparently mulling things over. Considering Erma's intelligence level, it was a sluggish and painful process. "Was Miles dating Lillian? Is that why he was at her house?"

"Certainly not! Miles is a new member of the garden club and was simply picking up Lillian's donation for the silent auction. Erma, you need to stop trying to connect the dots. The conclusions you're drawing are wildly inaccurate."

Myrtle was relieved they'd finally made it to downtown Bradley and the diner. Erma found a parking place in the front and Miles pulled in right next to them. Thankfully, the usually-crowded diner seemed to be having a slow day. They were able to get a table immediately.

Myrtle was determined this lunch with Erma would be as quick as possible. She didn't even look at the menu. "I know what I want. A pimento cheese dog with chili fries. Miles, you usually get the salad."

Miles, for some reason, was studying the menu as if he'd never eaten at Bo's Diner before. "I've never tried their fried chicken."

Erma said, "Oh, it's wonderful. The breading is yummy. And it comes with these buttery green beans. I've found them very easy to digest."

Myrtle gave Miles her best retired-teacher-stare. They needed to avoid talk of Erma's digestive activities at all cost during lunch. "The fried chicken might take a while to prepare."

Erma gave her braying laugh. "No way! They have a fryer ready to go. It'll just take minutes."

Myrtle said, "Do you know what you want, Erma?"

Now Erma, who had been very confident about what Miles should order, suddenly looked unsure. "This is tough. I either want the meat-and-three vegetable platter or the country fried steak and gravy."

Myrtle said briskly, "That's easy. Pick one and have the other the next time you come."

"But I don't go out very often."

Miles started coughing behind his laminated menu. His cough, to Myrtle's ears, sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

"Then order one for take-out and eat it for supper! Really, Erma, this is not brain surgery," said Myrtle crossly.

But Erma continued debating the pros and cons of the two dishes until the waitress came by a second time.

Myrtle said between gritted teeth, "Erma, I have things to do at home."

Erma, who'd been chewing her nails as she'd fretted over the monumental decision, said, "Okay. I'll get the meat-and-three."

The waitress asked, "Great. Which meat and which three vegetables?"