Hushed Up--Myrtle Clover Mystery #15

Chapter Nineteen

They started working on the puzzles, Miles more cautiously with a pencil and Myrtle more boldly with a pen. Myrtle's brow furrowed in concentration. She wanted to finish hers before Miles did, but she was getting more and more distracted. She badly wanted to blame Puddin for this lack of focus, but she had the feeling it was related to something else.

"Miles."

"Mmm?" asked Miles, frowning at his puzzle.

"Do you remember when we first spoke with Bianca at the flower shop?"

Miles said absently, "Sure."

"Do you remember when she said she'd never been over to Lillian's house?"

"I guess. She said Lillian didn't like combining her professional and personal lives," said Miles. He tapped his pencil on the puzzle.

"Then we spoke with Carolyn at the library." Myrtle frowned up at the ceiling.

"The book she recommended is very good."

"Yes, I'm sure it is. But she also mentioned something. She said Lillian was hard on Bianca. Carolyn knew this because she lived next-door to Lillian and heard her speak to Bianca. At Lillian's house."

Miles shrugged. "So Bianca was wrong. She was sort of distracted when we spoke to her with her son being in the back room."

A chill went up Myrtle's spine. "Yes. But then she said something else to me tonight. She said she was glad Lillian's basket sold so well at the auction, despite the fact the feeder was used as a weapon."

"A surprising fact," said Miles.

"But Miles, no one knew the dog feeding station was the weapon. Red told you not to mention it to anybody. And neither he nor Perkins would have said a word."

Myrtle and Miles stared at each other. Miles put his pencil down.

The doorbell rang.

Myrtle sighed. "Puddin must have been lurking in the neighborhood to get here this quickly."

She opened the door a crack and saw Bianca there.

Myrtle carefully modulated her voice. "Hi, Bianca. Listen, I'm absolutely worn out after tonight. I'll catch up with you tomorrow, all right?"

"I don't think so," said Bianca in a hollow voice. She pointed a gun at Myrtle. "I'd like to come inside now."

Myrtle backed away from the door and Bianca pushed her way in. Bianca gave a startled cry as she saw Miles frozen at the table. She waved her gun at both of them. "Sit next to each other," she hissed. "And no funny business! I don't have a lot of time."

Myrtle walked over to plop down heavily next to Miles. "Is that because your son is by himself? You don't like to leave him in the house long, do you? That's why these murders happened at night, isn't it? You put your son to bed and then you run out really quickly to take someone's life. You don't even have to pay for a sitter that way, do you?"

Bianca glared at her. "This is all your fault."

Myrtle raised her eyebrows. "Is it? I think that statement shows a startling lack of imagination."

Miles muttered, "Myrtle. She has a gun."

"I'm well aware of that, Miles. It's pointed directly at us. I'm simply pointing out what happened here. I need to talk through the narrative so it makes some sort of sense." She paused. "You have to understand, Bianca, I don't ordinarily have guns held on me very often. I suppose my conversation with you tonight made you realize you'd made a mistake."