Soup...Er...Myrtle!: A Myrtle Crumb Mystery (Myrtle Crumb Mystery Series) (5 page)

BOOK: Soup...Er...Myrtle!: A Myrtle Crumb Mystery (Myrtle Crumb Mystery Series)
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She nodded. “It’s where you met that woman who needed a
coat.”

“Right. Well, we think somebody connected to that soup
kitchen is stealing people’s identities.”  I went on to tell her about
Opal Grady and Harry Loomis.

“That’s weird. Is there any way I can help? I’d love to
be a part of the sting.”

“I’ll see what I can come up with. You’ve got a sharp
detective-y mind, and this doesn’t seem too dangerous. I’ll see what I can do.”
I nodded toward the box. “In the meantime, pick your polish.”

 

* * *

 

After Sunny left that afternoon, I got to thinking that
it wouldn’t hurt to let the M.E.L.O.N.S. know what was going on. I called
Bettie Easton, our founder, and asked if she thought it would be possible to
call an emergency meeting to be held at my house at five o’clock this
afternoon.

“Myrtle, hon, it’s two-thirty now,” Bettie said. “It’ll
take some doin’ to get everybody rounded up on that short a notice. Is it
really so important that it can’t wait until tomorrow after church?”

“I believe it is.” I explained Cooper’s and my concerns
to her.

“Okay, then,” she said. “I’ll be there…and I’ll see what
I can do about getting the rest of the M.E.L.O.N.S. to come.”

 

* * *

 

The M.E.L.O.N.S. started piling into my living room at
about a quarter to five. The first to arrive were Tansie and Melvia. Of course,
Tansie lived right across the road from me and Melvia’s house was on the left
side of Tansie’s, so they didn’t have far to walk. Delphine was next. She lived
up the road a piece, and since it was so cold, she drove down. Last to get
there was Bettie.

I’d put Matlock in the backyard at around four-thirty,
and then I’d spread a cloth over the coffee table and put out the chocolate chip
cookies I’d made. (I’d fixed enough to save a dozen for Cooper.) In addition to
the cookies, I had a bowl of pretzels, some mixed nuts, a platter of chips and
salsa, and some of those little maple candies. I’d brought a couple of chairs
in from the kitchen so the M.E.L.O.N.S. wouldn’t be squeezed together on the
couch. (Get it? Squeezed melons?)

Once everybody had got there and I’d hung up their
coats, I told them I had coffee, tea, water, and diet pop. Every one of us
except Bettie wanted coffee. Bettie took a bottle of water. I believe she’d
heard on Dr. Oz or one of those other talk programs that water was the best
thing for you and that you needed something like forty-eleven ounces a day. I’m
not arguing about water being good for you, and I drink a lot of it myself. But
if I’m having a cookie—and I was—I wanted some coffee to go with it.

Anyhow, we got all settled in with our cups of coffee
and Bettie’s glass of water—I wasn’t about to have a guest drink out of a
bottle—and we filled our plates with goodies.

“Thank you for coming,” I said. “I thought you should be
aware of something that’s going on here in town.” I went on to tell the
 M.E.L.O.N.S. about Opal Grady and Harry Loomis.  “Sheriff Norville
and I are convinced that Opal, Harry, and who-knows-who-all-else are victims of
identity theft. Now, rest assured he’s doing what he can on his end, but he
needs us to be his eyes and ears on the inside.”

Tansie scoffed. “Do you and your boyfriend truly believe
the good people in charge of the food bank and soup kitchen are going around
stealing identities?”

“I didn’t say it was the people in charge,” I said. “We
think it’s somebody connected to the food bank and soup kitchen, but that could
be the folks in charge, the volunteers, or the people who come in off the
street to eat.”

“Oh, you know, it
could
be one of those poor
things who’re down on their luck,” Melvia said. “I hate to say it, but you see
that sometimes on the detective shows. Sometimes the reason they’re street
people is because they just got out of prison and can’t get a job. It forces
them back into a life of crime.”

Tansie looked down her nose at her sister. “And some
people are plain mean, Melvia.”

“Well….” Melvia nodded. “Yeah.”

“Yes,” I agreed archly with a pointed look at Tansie.
“Some people
are
mean.”

Tansie flattened her lips. “If you’re implying that I’m
mean,  Myrtle Crumb, I’ll have you to know that I forfeited my plans for
the evening in order to patronize you by coming over here to this so-called
emergency meeting. Don’t seem like much of an emergency to me. And chips and
salsa
?
You couldn’t even make some spinach dip?”

Danged if that didn’t fry my eggs! I took a deep breath
and was getting ready to fire right back at her when Bettie intervened.

“Now, ladies, please,” she said. “Myrtle has put out
some delicious refreshments for us given how much time she had to pull it all
together, and I’m sure she didn’t intend to imply that you’re a bad person,
Tansie.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Let’s get back to the important stuff—the identity
thefts,” Bettie said. “Does Sheriff Norville really think
we
could be at
risk?”

“He sure does,” I said. “Now, we’re not a hundred
present sure that the point of origin for these identify thefts
is
the
food bank and soup kitchen, but it is the most logical place to start. Take
note of anybody milking folks for information they could use to apply for a
credit card—mother’s maiden name and social security number and the main two
things.”

“Thank you, Deputy Fife,” Tansie said.

Like I was Andy Griffith’s bumbling deputy! Well, that
did it!

“If you want to get home in time to un-forfeit those
plans of washing that blue hair of yours and watching Lawrence Welk reruns,
you’ll let me finish,” I told Tansie.

“I’ll have you know—“

Bettie cut Tansie off with, “What about companies,
Myrtle? Is Easton’s Used Cars at risk?”

“I don’t believe so, Bettie. I think it’s harder to
pretend you’re a company than it is to pretend you’re some other person,” I
said.

“Poor Opal,” Delphine said. “Did you tell her that you
suspect her identity was stolen?”

“I asked her about the sign warning not to take any
checks from her at the grocery store,” I said. “She told me it must be some
other Opal Grady. Other than Coop—I mean, Sheriff Norville—maybe wanting to ask
her some questions about who might’ve been getting information from her, I’m
not sure she needs to know the specifics.”

“She does if somebody comes after her demanding payment
for something she didn’t buy!” Tansie shouted.

“I figure Sheriff Norville will know the best route to
take with her.” I sighed. “Opal is old. I don’t want her to be worrying about
something that might not really be an issue for her.”

“That’s true,” Bettie said. “Her credit is shot, but she
never used it anyway. She pays cash for everything.”

“I agree that we don’t want her worrying herself to
death,” said Delphine. “Maybe if some creditor does try to come after her,
Sheriff Norville could help her deal with the situation.”

“I’m sure he would. He has experience with this type of thing,”
I said. “And after we catch whoever is doing this, then that should help
everybody.”

“Right…victims
and
those people the thief might
have in his crosshairs right this very minute,” Melvia said with a slow nod.

She could be dramatic sometimes. I liked it when Melvia
showed a little spunk.

Chapter Six

 

Sunday was quiet, lazy, and peaceful. I went to church;
but after that I came right back home, shed my dress, and put on a bright pink
track suit.

Cooper had to work. Faye and Sunny had made plans with
some friends of theirs. So Matlock and I were on our own for lunch and dinner.
For lunch, we had a grilled cheese sandwich. I also had a bowl of tomato soup.
For dinner, we had baked chicken breasts and mashed potatoes. And, of course,
he had his dog food.

The day was spent reading and watching movies. I’m happy
to say I didn’t dwell overmuch on the identity theft case or Heather’s MIA
husband. I knew there was nothing I could do about either that drab Sunday, so
I was able to relax and enjoy myself armed with the knowledge that I’d be back
to work on both first thing Monday morning.

Sunday was over before I knew it. I went to the food
bank and soup kitchen at ten o’clock Monday. I started through the door, but
before I could quite grasp what was happening, I found myself being shoved back
outside.

“Just the person I need to help me,” Melvia said, as she
propelled me backward through the door. “Help me get something from my car.”
She was winking like a signal light.

I nodded. “Of course. Let’s go.”

She held to my arm as we crossed the parking lot. “I
needed to talk with you away from everybody else.”

“I kinda gathered that,” I said. “Did you find out
something?”

“Not yet…but I happened to think that we’ve got the soup
kitchen covered. So I’ve asked them to let me work in the food bank,” she said.

“What an excellent idea!”

She beamed. “Thank you. I thought it was inspired.”

“It was.”

“I went in and looked around and said to Doris that it
appeared she had plenty of kitchen help and why didn’t I work in the food bank
today,” Melvia said. “Doris told me it was whatever I wanted to do, and I said
I believed I’d like helping out in there.”

“Great,” I said. “Keep me posted.”

“I will.” She started toward the door.

“Wait. What about the stuff I was supposed to help you
carry in from your car?” I asked.

She flicked her little gloved hand. “That was what they
call on television a
ruse
.”

“But won’t everybody wonder about it when we go back
in?” There’d been several people standing around when she’d requested my help
and had all but pushed me back outside.

Wrinkling her forehead, she said, “Well, I reckon I’ll
say I forgot and left it at home.”

“What was
it
?”

“Huh…guess I forgot that too,” she said, and we both
laughed.

 

* * *

 

The soups of the day were clam chowder, chicken with egg
noodles, and vegetable. I was glad to see that Opal, Heather, and Heather’s
girls were there. I had a few questions for Opal and Heather.  Once
everyone was served, I took a bowl of vegetable soup and went to sit by Opal. I
sat where I could keep an eye on Heather. I didn’t want her slipping out before
I could speak with her. I’d been tickled to see that Heather was wearing her
new coat when she came in. It looked pretty on her. I hadn’t been able to find
a blue scarf, but maybe I’d run across one somewhere.

“Hi, Opal,” I said as I sat across from her. “Did you
have a good weekend?”

“I did,” she said. “I made a lot of progress on the
quilt I’m making. Reckon cold, snowy weather is good for something after all.”

“Yeah. I finished the book I’d been reading and started
another one.” I ate a couple of spoonfuls of soup before I spoke again. I
didn’t want to be obvious.

“You know, I can’t get over somebody right here in
Backwater having the same name as you,” I said. “Have you ever had anybody mix
the two of you up?”

“Not that I know of,” Opal said, dipping a piece of roll
into her chicken noodle soup. “How do you mean?”

“You know…people calling and asking you for money
because the other Opal had run up a bill…anything like that.”

She shook her head. “No. Poor thing probably just fell
on hard times like the rest of us. I don’t imagine she meant to cheat the
grocery store.”

“No…of course not,” I said. “But if you do ever get a
call from somebody telling you that you owe them money, you let me know. We’ll
get it sorted out in a hurry.”

Her mouth was full of soup-soaked roll, but her lips
twisted into a closed-mouth grin. Once she’d swallowed, she told me, “You’re a
good friend, Myrtle. It’s nice to know you’re willing to look out for me.”

“Always,” I said.

 

* * *

 

I’d taken my bowl to the trash and had turned to see
what else needed to be done when I saw Heather get up and slip on her coat.

I went over to her. “Your coat looks beautiful on you.”
I smiled at the girls. “Isn’t Mommy pretty?”

They nodded, and the oldest began jabbering away about
her new dolly.

“They love those dolls,” Heather said. “Thank you
again.”

“You’re so welcome.” I took a deep breath. “Listen, I
don’t want to horn in, but I got to thinking about your husband not calling
home since Christmas. Do you think he could’ve been in an accident?”

“Of course not. Surely somebody would’ve called and let
me know if Craig had been in a wreck.”

“But what if it wasn’t a wreck?” I asked softly. “What
if he was mugged and his attacker stole his wallet?”

Heather’s eyes widened. After a moment, she frowned.
“And then what? He got amnesia and couldn’t remember who he was? That’s the
stuff of soap operas, Ms. Crumb. I’m sure my husband is fine.”

“I hope so. I just—“

“I need to get the girls home and down for their naps,”
she said. “Please excuse us.”

I nodded and walked away. There was really nothing else
I could do that wasn’t flat-out badgering the woman.

I noticed that Opal had finished her food, so I went to
get her trash.

“Let me take that for you,” I said, seeing that she was
about to do it herself. “You’re a guest here, remember?”

“Why, thank you.” She nodded toward the door.

I looked to see Heather and her children leaving.

“That Heather Flint is a nice-looking girl,” Opal said.

“She is,” I agreed. “And her daughters are as cute as
they can be.”

“Yep. That husband of hers ought to get back home.”

I sat down by Opal. “She said he went to Georgia looking
for work.”

“I heard he went to Georgia to keep the law off his
tail,” she said. “But I shouldn’t be talking out of turn. I just think she
deserves better.” She nodded. “She was here one day without the little ones.
She sat and talked with me for the longest time…asked my maiden name…where I grew
up…. She was really interested. Not too many young people pay that much mind to
a poor old lady.”

BOOK: Soup...Er...Myrtle!: A Myrtle Crumb Mystery (Myrtle Crumb Mystery Series)
7.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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