Murder on the Ballot, Myrtle Clover #17

Chapter Seven

"First off," said Myrtle coldly, "we are not all in agreement that you're the best candidate, Royce. I for one have some real doubts about your morals."

Royce's eyebrows flew up. "My morals?" He gave a snorting laugh.

"Don't interrupt. Yes, your morals. I well remember you as a former student. You were so focused on success and winning that you'd pay other students to do your work for you."

"I call that enterprising," he said, giving the audience a simpering smile.

"I call that cheating. It speaks volumes about your intellect and inability to complete complex assignments. It also indicates that you don't think rules are meant for you. And you should apologize to Erma, who has certainly never done anything to you and deserves an apology for your rudeness."

Now there was more than just a smattering of applause as the rest of the room clapped for nearly a minute. There were also some snickers in the audience. Myrtle saw Red giving his mother a rueful but admiring look. She saw Sloan carefully taking notes for the newspaper.

Royce's face was about as flushed as Erma's now, but it was anger lending it the color, not embarrassment. He gave Myrtle a resentful glare which Myrtle held coldly. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Now, let's hear Erma's stance on various issues since we've both had our time," said Myrtle forcefully.

The rest of the debate finished in about five minutes since Erma had apparently not put a good deal of thought into her platform and eagerly just reiterated whatever Myrtle had previously said in a hurried 'ditto.'

The mayor rejoined them at the front of the room and closed out the event. Myrtle gathered up her purse and was about to head out when she was swarmed by a bunch of ladies from garden club and book club.

Tippy beamed at her. "Well, I have to say I'm most impressed, Myrtle! I had no idea you were such an excellent speaker."

Myrtle smiled. "That comes from being in front of a classroom for decades." She added, "On another topic, Tippy, you're so wonderful at fundraising, I might have to give you a call about my own little efforts to raise money for my campaign."

"Just call me anytime, Myrtle. I'd love to talk with you about it."

Wanda was also surrounded by folks in the room. But then, she'd become something of a legend with her horoscope, as evidenced by the mob at Greener Pastures. She was a very reclusive legend since she wasn't ordinarily in town. Given the chance to meet and speak with her, there was a crowd gathered.

After a few minutes, Myrtle glanced over and saw Wanda's tired expression. "Thanks for your support!" she called out and then motioned to Wanda and Miles to follow her out. As she was heading for the door, she heard Royce make a crack about the elevator behind her. She kept moving, not deigning to spare a glance behind her.

"Somebody should do something about that man," she fumed as she walked out the door to wait for the elevator.

"Hoping that won't be you, Mama," drawled a voice behind her.

Myrtle whirled around to see Red there.

"Maybe it will be. He needs to be taken down a notch," said Myrtle.

"I think you did take him down a notch, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes, but he apparently knows how to grow notches pretty quickly," muttered Myrtle. She got into the elevator with Miles and Wanda.

As they reached the car, there was a crack of thunder.

Miles grimly kept his eyes on the road as he slowly made his way back. "Let's see if we can make it back before the rain rolls in."