Murder on the Ballot, Myrtle Clover #17

Chapter Sixteen

Miles and Wanda froze.

Myrtle said, "Goodness, Cindy. Are you all right? What are you doing out here? Come inside. We have snacks. And . . . sherry."

Myrtle carefully picked her way around the gnomes and led the way into her house. Cindy was shivering and Myrtle picked up the blanket that had also given comfort to Wanda and Erma and threw it around Cindy's shoulders as she bustled her to the kitchen table.

Myrtle, Miles, and Wanda stared anxiously at Cindy, who did look quite pale and hollow-eyed. This likely, of course, was due to the fact that Cindy must have just recently found out that she had been widowed.

Miles said slowly, "Sherry, I think, Myrtle."

Myrtle pulled a wine glass out of the cabinet and hurriedly poured a full glass and shoved it at Cindy. She kept her fingers crossed that Cindy wasn't going to suddenly burst into tears. Myrtle always felt helpless when people did that around her and she didn't think Miles or Wanda were going to be much better.

Cindy took a long gulp from the glass and then coughed. She drained the glass as Myrtle blinked. If Myrtle had a glass of sherry, she usually nursed it until at least an hour had gone by. The good news was, however, that Cindy's cheeks were now stained with color.

"You heard," said Cindy.

"About Preston? Yes. Cindy, I'm so, so sorry."

Cindy nodded dully, looking down at the empty glass. Miles helpfully filled it up again and Cindy took another big gulp.

"I've lost everything now," she said simply. She glanced around at the three of them and suddenly seemed to realize where she was and what she was doing. "I'm sorry for horning in. Thanks for this. After Red told me, I just couldn't stay holed up in the house. I couldn't even call anybody because it was so early. So I just set out for a walk and then saw y'all outside." She frowned a little as if it occurred to her that that was rather odd, too—these three people setting up signs and tables in the dark.

"Red woke you up, I suppose," said Myrtle. "That must have been extremely disorienting right there."

Cindy nodded. "I'd been at home all night. I turned in early, so I did get some sleep."

Miles said, "Preston was home with you? When you turned in?"

"Yes. Well, he'd worked sort of late at the garage, but that's pretty common. He was home before I went to sleep, though. He knows I don't sleep really well when he's not there." She gave a bewildered shrug. "I guess he must have slipped out at some point. When Red told me where he was found, I couldn't believe it. Part of me wanted to just check all the rooms of the house and check the backyard. He'd been right there, with me. It's just hard for me to wrap my head around this."

Myrtle asked, "Do you have any idea what Preston was doing at Erma's house, Cindy?"

Cindy shook her head, looking baffled. "I have absolutely no idea. I mean, nobody really seeks Erma out, do they?"

But there was something about Cindy's expression that made Myrtle wonder if perhaps Cindy did have an idea what Preston might have been doing there. "Can you tell us anything about Preston's demeanor since Royce died?"

Cindy knitted her brows and Myrtle elaborated. "How has Preston seemed? Has he been acting differently?"

"Oh, yes. Yes. I was wondering if Preston might have known something that made him a target. Maybe he was investigating on his own?"

Myrtle thought this was highly unlikely. Perhaps some of this feeling crossed her features because Cindy said, "Yeah, you're probably right. Maybe he wasn't really investigating, but he did know something. He's been acting really tense; not like himself."