Murder on the Ballot, Myrtle Clover #17

Chapter Seventeen

After another forty-five minutes, the event wrapped up. Myrtle took the jar of cash inside and dumped it out on the kitchen table as Wanda left to watch a game show and Miles trailed behind them.

Myrtle counted it all out loud and finally said, "Two-hundred dollars! Wow!" She frowned. "Maybe I really should continue running for the seat. People do seem very enthusiastic about supporting me."

"Or perhaps overly-enthusiastic about having their photo taken with gnomes," said Miles dryly. "By the way, I'm completely exhausted. That was a lot of pressure to put on me."

"Pressure? You were merely taking snapshots, Miles. Everyone loved their pictures."

Miles peered down at the photo gallery on his phone. "Is there a quicker way to delete all these photos instead of doing it one by one?"

"I have no idea. We could give your phone to Jack the next time we see them. He seems to be a genius with technology."

Miles seemed reluctant to offer his phone to a three-year-old.

Wanda said, "Ain't Tippy gonna run?"

"I need to follow up with her. I could do that now . . . and tell her that her country needs her. She does respond well when it's put in terms of duty," said Myrtle. "I could call her now."

Wanda drawled, "She's at the garden center."

"Is she? Goodness but it's helpful having a psychic around. I do believe it might actually be better to ask Tippy in person. It would pressure her just a bit more. Let's all go to the garden center." Myrtle grabbed her purse off the kitchen counter.

Miles groaned. "I just mentioned how exhausted I am."

"You'll rally, Miles. Besides, there's no way that Wanda and I can walk all the way to the plant nursery. We did enough walking yesterday—I think I may have worn my shoes down to a nub."

Miles glanced down at Myrtle's sensible orthopedic shoes. "That's rather unlikely."

"But I could always drive your car if you preferred," said Myrtle sweetly. "My license has been renewed for another ten years."

Miles stood up and took his keys out of his pocket. "I'll drive."

Myrtle said, "Good. Although you know I'm an excellent driver, Miles. I'm not sure I appreciate your concern about my driving your vehicle."

"My concern has something to do with you driving fifteen miles an hour," said Miles.

Myrtle gave him a reproving look. "Nothing bad happens when you drive fifteen miles an hour. It's the safest way to drive. However, I'm happy for you to be the driver today. Wanda, I have a little extra money set aside from my retirement check this month . . . how about if you and I find something small we can buy at the garden center?"

Wanda grinned and nodded happily. Then she looked concerned. "Can we find somethin' cheap there?"

"We certainly can. We'll just avoid shopping in whatever sections Tippy is shopping in. Miles, is there anything you might need there?"

Miles considered this. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to get some fertilizer."

"An exciting purchase, for sure," murmured Myrtle.

A ten-minute drive later, they arrived at the plant nursery. They could see Tippy outside, looking at some flowering bushes thoughtfully.

Miles said, "There are two luxury vehicles here. Who might the other one belong to?"

Myrtle craned her head and gasped. "I think that's Jenny Rollins's car. Isn't it? Oh good . . . maybe we'll have the chance to knock out two birds with one stone."