Death Pays a Visit (A Myrtle Clover Mystery Book 7) (5 page)

Winston’s eyes were hopeful. “So are you looking to move here, then? To Greener Pastures?”

Myrtle managed not to make a face. “Well … I’m really here to visit a friend. But I’m taking notes of course, because I may be interested in living at Greener Pastures. I might be visiting quite a bit in the upcoming days.”

Miles gave her an admiring look. It
was
amazing she carried off that particular statement.

“You should come, Myrtle,” said Winston in a bit of a wheedling voice. “There’s a lot going on at Greener Pastures.”

Inez rolled her eyes. “Perhaps if you like bingo and Scrabble.”

“I don’t just mean the games, Inez,” said Winston. “I’m talking about all the scandalous gossip. Inez knows more about them than she’s letting on. She runs a newspaper here.”

“What kinds of scandalous things?” asked Myrtle.

“Oh, it’s just like high school again with the dating and the break-ups and all. Plus there are secrets from the past. Fascinating stuff,” said Winston with a wink.

Miles said, “Do you like it here? At Greener Pastures?”

Winston looked at Miles with surprise. “Most
definitely
,” he said with vigor. “What’s not to like? I’ve got housekeeping to make up my bed and clean up after me. I’ve got my meals cooked for me and the dishes washed after I’m done. No yard to fertilize or aerate or seed or mow, no pesky flowers to plant. No home repairs to make. People to play games with or sing old songs with in the commons room. And women outnumber men by ten to one. It’s paradise, man. It’s like being on a cruise ship every single day of my life.”

Myrtle grimaced. “I don’t have the right kind of clothes for a cruise. It sounds as if I’d have to update my wardrobe to live in a place like this.” She turned to Inez. “Tell me more about your newsletter.”

Inez drawled, “It’s a news
paper
. You know—the kind that you read in the mornings.”

“Yes, thanks—I
know
that. I work for a newspaper, myself. For a
town
,” said Myrtle a bit testily.

Inez looked at Myrtle through narrowed eyes. Myrtle realized that now she seemed like competition to Inez. A real newspaper reporter who might be moving to Greener Pastures? Before Inez could shut up like a clam, Myrtle hastily amended, “It’s really just a column that I do for the paper. Helpful hints, that kind of thing. Nothing, really.”

Inez said slowly, “The paper here is called
Home Life
. We print all the news everyone here is dying to read. They all say they look forward to seeing their names in print along with my descriptions of what they’re wearing and their activities.”

Winston winked at Myrtle again. “And all the gossip that’s fit to print!”

Inez scowled. But Myrtle also saw a fleeting glimpse of wistfulness there. Was she an admirer of Winston’s?

Myrtle said, “How about crime stories? Is there a problem with crime at all here? I’m just curious as a potential resident, you know.”

“Oh sure, there’s crime,” said Inez.

One of the other ladies at the table looked at Inez reproachfully. “Not big crime, Inez. I won’t hear you say things like that about Greener Pastures. I feel very safe here. Maybe there’s a smattering of theft, but that’s all I’ve ever heard about. You’re making it sound as if people are getting murdered as they sleep.”

“Are they?” asked Myrtle quickly.

“No!” said the old lady.

Myrtle tried not to show her disappointment. However
was
she going to gather clues and figure out who this victim was supposed to be if Greener Pastures was some sort of bastion of safety?

Inez said, “So…your relationship with Ruby Sims.”

“It’s close,” snapped Myrtle.

“Naturally,” said Inez smoothly. “It’s just so odd that you didn’t recognize her when she sat down just a few feet away.”

Myrtle blinked as Inez pointed out a woman with fluffy, snow-white hair that framed her face like a halo. She somehow had a china doll-like face despite being somewhat plump.

“My vision isn’t all that it used to be,” said Myrtle weakly. As a matter of fact, she wouldn’t have described Ruby Sims with any of the adjectives that leapt to mind upon seeing her.

Inez, seeming to enjoy stirring up trouble, called sharply to Ruby. “Ruby! Look who’s here!” This didn’t help matters as Ruby sloshed her glass of pink lemonade all over herself.

Ruby glanced nervously around her, eyes skipping right over Myrtle in the process. Inez smirked.

Miles gave Myrtle a rueful wince.

“No, Ruby, right here!” said Inez, pointing to Myrtle. “It’s Myrtle Towers!”

“Clover!” said Myrtle with great irritation.

A confused look passed over Ruby’s face and she squinted at Myrtle. Then she quickly recovered and said, “Hi, sweetie. You came here to visit me? How nice.”

Inez said, “Would you like Myrtle and Miles to sit with you, now that you’re in the dining room?”

Ruby bobbed her head and said, “Of course, sweetie.”

It was quickly apparent that Ruby called
everyone
sweetie. It was also apparent that Ruby’s fogginess had gotten worse and calling people sweetie was a great way to cover up the fact that you didn’t remember anyone’s name.

Myrtle leaned over to get her pocketbook and found that Winston’s face was very close to hers. She jerked back with irritation, holding her purse in front of her protectively. “Leaving so soon, my fair lady?” he asked sadly.

Miles seemed to be choking again, although he wasn’t even eating anything. His eyes were full of merriment.

“I’m paying a visit to my friend,” said Myrtle.

“Her gain is my loss,” said Winston gallantly, clutching his chest as if feeling pangs.

Myrtle carefully picked up her tray, hanging her cane and her pocketbook on one arm as Miles somehow handled both their drinks and his own tray. Winston stood respectfully until Myrtle had left the table.

“Thank goodness,” muttered Myrtle to Miles. “I feel as if we had a lucky escape. That whole table was a nightmare.”

“Will you still feel that way after spending an afternoon with Ruby Sims?” asked Miles under his breath.

Ruby was looking more confused as Miles and Myrtle pulled their chairs up around her table. “You and I are good friends, sweetie?” she asked in her broad Southern accent. Her bright blue eyes were a bit baffled.

Myrtle decided honesty was the best policy here. The sooner Ruby stopped asking questions and took their presence for granted, the better. “I wouldn’t say we were
good
friends,” said Myrtle in a quiet voice. “But I wanted to take a closer look at Greener Pastures and remembered that you were living here. I thought I’d pop by for a visit—to see you and to see the retirement home. And Miles decided to come along, too. Because Miles….” She paused. What
was
Miles’s excuse for being here?

Miles smoothly filled in. “Because I’m interested in becoming a resident, too.”

Myrtle stared at him. That statement sounded entirely too genuine.

Miles asked kindly, “Ruby, do you like it here at Greener Pastures?”

Ruby nodded happily, her white, fluffy curls bouncing. “I do. I really do. I’ve made so many good friends here and have done so many different activities. There’s yoga and needlework groups. And we go to the mall or to the movies on the bus—that’s always fun. I’ve made some very good friends. Like Mickey.”

Myrtle nodded. This was more of the same: nice people, fun activities. No mention of potential murder from anyone, and it was all very frustrating.

“Would you like to meet her?” asked Ruby eagerly.

“Who?”

“Mickey! Let’s go meet her,” said Ruby.

Chapter Five

Myrtle gave Miles a startled look. “Ruby, you haven’t even eaten your lunch yet.” And Myrtle still had a bit of her rice pilaf left. She’d found it surprisingly palatable.

“It’s okay—I’m not really that hungry, anyway.” She abruptly stood and started walking toward the door.

Myrtle and Miles stared at her for a moment before quickly following her. “I think your choice of person to visit has real issues,” he muttered.

“Don’t be bitter just because you couldn’t finish your lunch,” said Myrtle.

“That corn pudding was pretty tasty,” said Miles, sounding sad. “And what’s the point of our following Ruby? Do you really think she’s going to be able to help us find our victim? Or our future killer? I’m wondering if she even has the capacity to remember names minutes after hearing them.”

“Well, she certainly remembers Mickey’s name. Since Mickey seems to be such an important figure here, maybe
Mickey
can help us.” Myrtle sighed. “What’s Ruby prattling on about?”

Ruby was, in fact, prattling on about the wonderful food, the games and activities the staff planned, and the little pocket gardens that were in courtyards around the grounds.

“Completely brainwashed,” muttered Myrtle.

But Miles seemed somehow interested in Ruby’s ramblings.

Myrtle decided to redirect. It was good to meet as many people as she could at the home, surely. “So you and Mickey are friends, right? Who else do you hang out with?”

Ruby’s eyes clouded with confusion again. “Hang out with?”

“You know. With whom do you eat? Or, go to activities with, do your yoga with, go to chapel with? That sort of thing,” said Myrtle.

Ruby hesitated again and Myrtle realized that the names had probably escaped her. “Maybe some of the people Miles and I were eating lunch with?” asked Myrtle. “Inez? And ... uh, Winston?”

“Yes!” said Ruby, excited. “Inez lives in the room right next door to Mickey. And I live across the hall from both of them.”

They entered an elevator from which an old man was exiting. He had a large collection of wrinkles that all settled into a frown. He was mainly bald except for a white fringe of hair around his head. He had brown eyes and a stony expression and walked past them without a greeting on his way to the dining room.

Ruby said in a small voice, “And he lives near us, too. In the room on the other side of Mickey.” She added in an even smaller voice, “And he’s mean.”

“Mean to Mickey?” asked Myrtle as they descended to the bottom floor.

“Mean to everybody,” said Ruby in a fervent drawl. “But especially to Mickey. Lots of people are mean to Mickey.” She looked sad. But then she sprang out of whatever sadness she was feeling. “Just wait until you see our door decorations! They’re the best.”

Ruby chatted on about the benefits of using fake flowers on their floor. Myrtle nodded. They would definitely have to be fake since there appeared to be no natural light in the hallway. “Have they stuck you in the basement?” Myrtle asked in disbelief.

“It’s the bottom floor,” said Ruby in a cheery voice.

“The basement. Aren’t the rooms gloomy? I should hope you’d get a discount for having a room in this location,” said Myrtle.

“Oh,
no
… no, we like it down here. It’s ever so quiet. And there’s plenty of light in the rooms … you’ll see. There are windows near the top of the walls that shine light down like a skylight,” said Ruby.

“It’s quiet, all right,” said Myrtle. Eerily silent, as a matter of fact. And if the individual resident rooms had natural light, the hallway certainly didn’t. “Like a dungeon.”

Miles gave her a reproving look. Changing the subject, he politely asked Ruby, “Do you have any children?”

“Yes! I have six sons.” Ruby gave them a proud look.

“Wow,” said Myrtle. “Six sons. That’s a lot of kids.” She’d remembered Ruby having a lot of children, but not that large of a brood.

“And nary a one in jail,” drawled Ruby with an emphatic nod of her head.

“Quite an accomplishment,” said Myrtle dryly.

The residents of the dungeon-like floor had attempted to make their areas a bit more cheerful by putting out various welcome mats, flowerpots, (with silk flowers since there was no sun in the hall), door decorations, and entrance tables with baskets of candy on them.

“This is my room,” said Ruby, beaming at her door. She’d put a poinsettia wreath on her door and had a small table with a cat on it. The cat was real enough to make Myrtle peer more closely at it, finally convincing herself that it was indeed stuffed.

“Do you own a cat?” asked Ruby wistfully.

Did anyone
own
a cat? Cats were sort of like independent contractors. At least Pasha was. But Myrtle knew what Ruby was getting at. “Yes. I have a black cat named Pasha.”

Ruby stopped walking with a gasp. She fixed Myrtle with an intense stare. “Can you bring Pasha for a visit? To see me?”

Miles coughed. “She’s not the kind of cat that goes on visits, really. She’s a little…unpredictable.”

Ruby’s eyes filled up in response and Myrtle was suddenly very worried that Ruby was going to break into tears. She remembered a tactic that had worked well with Red when he was little and seemed to work well for Myrtle’s grandson, Jack, too. “We’ll see.”

“Really?” Ruby’s eyes lit up with hope.

“That’s right—we’ll see.”

It seemed to satisfy Ruby. “Here’s Mickey’s room,” said Ruby in a reverent tone. They knocked and a commanding voice barked at them to come in.

Myrtle couldn’t comprehend why Mickey was spoken of as practically a deity by Ruby. She was a small woman dressed in workout clothes that had seen better days—and Mickey clearly wasn’t doing any actual working out. She had high cheekbones and piercing eyes. She looked like the type of person who didn’t suffer fools lightly—and yet she apparently spent time with Ruby, which was rather baffling. Mickey grunted a greeting to them and Ruby allowed Miles and Myrtle to handle their own introductions, having likely forgotten their names already.

“Good to meet you,” said Mickey. “I’m technically Evelyn, but everyone has always called me Mickey. Last name Pelias.” She shook their hands with a surprisingly firm grip.

A moment later, Myrtle was startled to realize that there was someone else in the room. The figure had been sitting so still in the corner that she could have been mistaken for a pile of laundry. But when Ruby said, “Hi sweetie” to the corner, Myrtle and Miles both turned to look more closely.

The quiet figure was middle-aged, had lackluster brown hair, bad skin, and a bit of a weight problem. Mickey arched her drawn-on eyebrows. “This is my daughter, Natalie,” she said, waving her hand in the direction of the woman. It appeared as if she were making the introduction for Ruby’s benefit as much as much for Myrtle and Miles.