Murder on the Ballot, Myrtle Clover #17

Chapter Fifteen

They walked into Erma's house and Wanda took the blanket off and wrapped it around Erma's shoulders since Erma was shaking uncontrollably. Myrtle dumped the remaining cookies onto a plate and poured Erma a glass of milk.

Miles cleared his throat. "Perhaps something a little stronger might be good, as well. Something more medicinal."

Myrtle said, "I'll find the sherry."

A moment later, Erma was consuming an odd mix of sherry, milk, and cookies. Her color, such as it was, was starting to return so she wasn't ghostly white anymore but merely her usual, pale self.

Erma, true to form, was starting to realize she had an audience. And a spotlight. She sat a bit straighter and the light returned to her eyes.

Seeing this, Myrtle asked, "Now Erma, if it's not too upsetting, can you tell us what happened? I'm assuming you weren't screaming because of some horrid health-related malady?"

Erma shook her head. "No. Although I did have quite an upset stomach directly after the funeral reception. Something didn't agree with me. Maybe it was the fried chicken. Or maybe the deviled eggs. But my intestines—"

"That's quite enough talk of intestines. What happened?"

Erma swallowed and looked sadly down at her plate of cookies. "I heard a noise outside. I haven't been sleeping very well since Royce's death. I started wondering if someone was planning on murdering all the candidates for the town council spot!" She looked wildly around at Myrtle, Miles, and Wanda. "That puts you in danger, too, Myrtle."

Myrtle did not seem in the least perturbed at being in this sort of danger. "I hardly think that was the motive for Royce's murder, Erma. But please, continue." Especially since Red would most likely be there in the next minute or so.

Erma took a deep breath. "I picked up a frying pan as a weapon and I carefully looked out my back window. It was the backyard that the noises were coming from. I saw something out there, but you know how dark it was. I couldn't tell what it was. I opened the door and tiptoed out and it was Preston! He was dead in my yard!"

The last couple of sentences were said in a shrieking tone that made Myrtle fear the worst for the continuation of Erma's previous screaming. She refilled Erma's sherry and said, "Have some, Erma."

Erma obeyed, picking up the tiny sherry glass with a trembling hand.

Myrtle, Miles, and Wanda looked at each other in puzzlement. Why had Preston been in Erma's yard? How had he died there?

As Myrtle thought, Red came back, shoving the door open and looking at the gathered group in the kitchen with his hands on his hips. He relaxed a little when he saw the rather domestic scene in front of him, with no screaming involved.

He pulled up a chair and gave Erma a concerned look. "Are you doing all right?"

Erma asked meekly, "You mean in general, with all my health conditions? Or just specific to what happened a few minutes ago?"

Red clearly had no desire to be relegated with a dozen of Erma's most-grotesque medical issues. "Just in regard to what took place tonight."

Erma nodded.

Myrtle said, "Before you start asking her questions, Red, I think it's fair if you give us a little information. Erma will feel a lot better if she knows more about what happened and maybe she'll make a bit more sense."

Miles smiled at the implication that Erma hadn't been making enough sense to satisfy Myrtle.

Red rubbed his eyes. "Okay. Erma, I guess you know who was out in your yard."