Pretty is as Pretty Dies: Myrtle Clover #1

Chapter Nine

Shortly after being kidnapped by Erma, Myrtle devised an avoid-Erma campaign. The brief break she'd had when Erma left town on the senior bus to gamble had only whetted her appetite for more. Her current tactic of avoiding her neighbor involved looking through her curtains for several minutes for lurking Ermas before leaving, speedy retrieval of all mail delivery, and using caller ID to screen calls.

Myrtle spent some time spying through her sheer curtains. She noticed the Pilgrim (as she'd come to think of him) scurrying to his car and back indoors just as furtively as she did. Could be signs of intelligent life. Maybe he'd picked up on Erma's less-endearing qualities in the past week. Or could he just be tired of the predatory pack of wily widows that descended on him at every opportunity. Myrtle couldn't help noticing that he had ignored his doorbell several times when a courting casserole-bearer had arrived on his porch. And judging from the lights on long after most midnights, he seemed to be up at night as much as Myrtle herself was. Could he be a fellow insomniac? It was nice to know others were burning the midnight oil.

Myrtle sat in her kitchen, drinking coffee and smiling smugly. These precautions had worked amazingly well and consequently Myrtle had enjoyed an Erma-free life for over a week now. It must be killing Erma to keep all her gossip bottled up. Myrtle's eyes glittered gleefully.

But she hadn't counted on Erma using the postal service. One morning Myrtle received a letter. It was actually less a letter than a diatribe. Erma lamented that her ill-health the preceding week-Myrtle fumed at her wasted efforts-had kept her inside and unable to visit Myrtle. "I would hate to pass along my bad cold to you, dear Myrtle. Colds can be so hard on the elderly."

Erma noted that she'd tried to phone Myrtle when she was sure Myrtle was home. ("You could be going deaf, Myrtle dear.") Then she launched into a scathing narrative of innuendo and bile ("Warn Red to really investigate Cecil Stockard. That buzzard was circling his mom months ago,") and ending with "Sodom and Gomorrah were pristine in God's eyes compared to Bradley, North Carolina. This town is going to hades in a handbasket! Fondly, Erma."

Myrtle cursed, crumpled the violet-bordered note paper and tossed it inaccurately towards her wastebasket, making her curse again. She picked up her cane and thumped toward the front door. She would go to the Bradley Bugle office and continue her investigating. Clearly it was impossible to avoid the woman since her insidious evil was capable of reaching her anywhere.

With murder already on her mind, Myrtle glared at her front lawn. Erma's weed collection stretched over the boundaries of her yard and crept into Myrtle's, infesting it with clover, crabgrass, chickweed, and dandelion. She'd complained about it to Erma several weeks ago, and Erma had only shrugged and said, "It's green, Myrtle. And you won't have to worry about watering it." Erma had also bought one of those bug zappers at the hardware store and staked it right on the edge of her property. Naturally this attracted a swarm of everything with wings from all over the neighborhood. That's all Myrtle needed-imported mosquitoes migrating from other yards.

Myrtle entertained black thoughts of sneaking over to Erma's in the middle of the night and planting kudzu in an obscure section of Erma's yard. Considering how fast the weed grew, her house would be engulfed by the time Erma woke up the next morning. She dug at a patch of chickweed with the bottom of her cane, and leaned over to pick up the batch to toss it by the curb. A stray squirrel from Erma's assortment watched her with interest.

A shriek cut through the humid air, causing Myrtle to wobble off-balance and fall forward. She reached out with her hand to catch herself before being yanked roughly up by a pair of large hands. She found herself face to face with a beaming Erma. "Well, aren't I your guardian angel, Myrtle? You'd have broken a hip if I hadn't been here," exclaimed Erma, overlooking the fact that she'd caused Myrtle to stumble in the first place.