A Body in the Trunk : Myrtle Clover Book 12

Chapter Five

Myrtle frowned. "Really? Clara Albert said that they didn't really know anybody in town."

"He sure knows her," said Puddin.

"Who is this 'her'? Did Bitty know that? And why on earth do you have so many cousins?"

Puddin proceeded to detail a complex family tree, involving far too many children in all its many branches. Myrtle's head started pounding.

"Never mind," said Myrtle. "Just tell me who the woman was while I get some aspirin." She walked into the kitchen.

Puddin drawled loudly from the living room, "Name is Adelaide. Don't reckon I know any Adelaides, but maybe you do."

Myrtle nodded slowly. "I do. At least, I taught her a long time ago. I think she's also a teacher, now. Adelaide Pound. Teaches at the high school." She took the aspirin and brought the glass of water with her back into the living room.

"Well then," said Puddin, clapping her hands together in a self-satisfied manner as if the case was solved right then and there.

"As a matter of fact, Neil told Clara that he'd recognized someone at the high school from the past," said Myrtle in a thoughtful voice.

Puddin nodded, as if this was more irrefutable evidence that the mystery was solved.

"Except that it doesn't make all that much sense. Why would Neil have recognized Adelaide Pound? Adelaide has spent her entire life here in Bradley. She sure wouldn't have been part of his former life in Boston or anything."

Puddin deliberated. "Maybe he just told his wife he saw somebody from Boston. As a cover, you know?"

"You mean in case she spotted him at the high school? That a former friend there would explain his presence there? It's possible." Myrtle shrugged. "Clearly some more investigating is in order. But at least I have a new lead."

"Yer welcome," said Puddin with a bob of her head.

"Now clean up the crumbs. Dusty should be done before long." Myrtle's phone started ringing and she hurried into the kitchen to answer it.

Myrtle heard a gritty voice on the other end and smiled. "Wanda! It's good to hear from you."

Puddin made a face at Myrtle. She wasn't as fond of Wanda as Myrtle was. Myrtle made a sweeping motion with her hand and Puddin turned the soap opera back on for its final minutes.

It was also good to know that Wanda apparently had electricity. That wasn't always the case. Wanda lived with her brother, Crazy Dan, in a hubcap-covered shack off the old rural highway. They survived by peddling live bait, fortunes, peanuts, and by Wanda's gig at the local newspaper as the horoscope writer. Her horoscopes were such a hit that the editor, Sloan, had given Wanda a cell phone so that she could call them in. Wanda delivered her horoscopes via Myrtle since Wanda was functionally illiterate. There was also the fact that Wanda didn't have a computer to type them on and her handwriting was atrocious.

"Do you have some horoscopes for me?" asked Myrtle, glancing around for a notebook and a pen.

"No, I want to get in on that Goodwill trip you and Miles are takin'." Wanda's voice croaked across the line. "I ken give you horoscopes when yer here."

"How did you ....?" Myrtle stopped. It was clear how Wanda knew about their trip to Goodwill—she was a psychic, after all. She continued, "Is there something exciting going on at the Goodwill that I don't know about, Wanda? Is that why you want to go?"

"Don't want to go with you. Want to give you stuff to take," said Wanda. Despite having quit smoking, her voice was still ruined with decades of abuse.