A Body at Bunco (6 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Spann Craig

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Cozy, #Women Sleuths, #A Myrtle Clover Mystery

BOOK: A Body at Bunco
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“Where on earth is she?” muttered Myrtle. Luella was small, but she shouldn’t disappear amid a herd of gnomes. Myrtle reached back and opened the kitchen door wide, allowing the light from the room to illuminate the outdoors.

And that was when she saw Luella lying on top of the gnomes.

Chapter Four

On closer inspection, Luella appeared to be very dead indeed. Her eyes were wide open and staring lifelessly into the dark. Her mouth was frozen in a snarl. The cigarette she’d been so keen on was lying next to her at the base of a particularly mischievous gnome.

Miles’s voice came from behind her. “Any luck, Myrtle? The natives are getting restless in there.”

“I found her, all right. But she won’t be playing Bonkers tonight. Someone killed her, Miles.”


What
?”

“Yes.” Myrtle squinted into the dark, leaning forward on her cane. She saw a gnome with a large adjustable wrench on its head. “I
told
Dusty to put his tools away! I think that wrench must be the murder weapon.”

“I’ll get Red,” said Miles.

“Just let Elaine know on the way out…she’ll need to go over to be with Jack,” said Myrtle. A cool breeze came up and Myrtle shivered. “I believe I’ll wait for Red inside. Just to be on the safe side.”

The nice thing about having a police chief across the street from you is that it takes seconds for him to arrive. Myrtle didn’t have to tell everyone that they weren’t playing the game because someone had gotten herself killed in the backyard. Red did it. And the announcement didn’t have quite the stunning, silencing effect that Myrtle had expected. Perhaps everyone was anaesthetized with wine.

Florence Ainsworth, after returning from her powder room expedition, fell asleep shortly before the awful discovery and was peacefully snoring with her head on her chest. She startled awake, however, at Red’s deep voice speaking loudly in the small space. “What number are we on?” she asked drowsily. Tippy Chambers had to whisper an explanation and then the old woman looked abashed at having the bad manners to nap during a murder.

Although Red’s face was grim when he made his announcement, it was even grimmer when he told the group that he had a call out to the state police to bring a forensic team. “While I’m waiting on them, I’ll need to talk to everyone here, privately. Everyone should make sure that they stay put until I’ve told them they’re clear to leave.”

Luella’s last living relative, Mimsy, had instantly choked up when hearing the news. But while listening to Red, her tears dried up and her eyes opened wide. “But…surely you don’t think one of
us
did it, Red! We’re all here to play Bunco and have a fun night.”

“That’s right,” said tattooed Georgia. “Nobody set out to murder anyone tonight. Shouldn’t you be searching the neighborhood for the bad guy?”

Red narrowed his eyes. “I’m not making any wild accusations here, I’m only following protocol. It’s too early for me to say anything. I’m simply not ruling anything out.”

Mimsy said in a pleading tone, “But maybe it wasn’t even foul play. Maybe she simply stumbled and fell. It’s…well, it’s a little crowded out there.”

“I’m afraid it
was
foul play, judging from what I saw,” said Red in a more gentle voice. “Her wound wasn’t accidental.”

Myrtle murmured to Miles, “Not to mention the fact that there was a bloody wrench nearby.”

Miles nodded. “Do you think it was someone here, then?” he asked her quietly.

“I sure do. My yard is fenced in with a privacy fence. I made sure Dusty locked the side gate. What murderous vagrant is going to scale a tall fence to kill a woman who doesn’t even have her purse on her? No, someone in this house did it. And I have to say that Luella wasn’t the nicest person in the world. Nobody is probably upset about this except Mimsy over there.”

Mimsy had resumed quietly sobbing into a tissue.

Red said, “Mama, if I could speak with you first.” He looked around him at the packed kitchen and living room. “I guess I’ll have to commandeer the back bedroom for questioning.”

Myrtle followed him to the bedroom. Red took out a notebook. “It is unfortunate that you’ve got a body once again in your backyard, Mama. And most unfortunate that you discovered it.”

Myrtle sniffed. “It’s a hostess’s job to keep track of her guests. And discover bodies, if it comes down to it.”

Red let that one go. “Okay. So please tell me that the Bunco game was at least underway so that there was some sort of structure going on and maybe I can figure out the murderer easier.”

“I wish I
could
tell you that, Red. But no, all those women were wandering here and yonder. It was like trying to herd cats to get them to play the game.”

“Can you at least help me eliminate
anybody
from suspicion?” pleaded Red.

Myrtle pursed her lips. “I can’t see Elaine killing her.”

Red glared at her. “I could have reached that conclusion myself, Mama. And I’ll go ahead and spare you the trouble and eliminate Miles and you.”

“Well, now, Luella apparently had the hots for Miles,” said Myrtle. “Although I don’t suppose that’s a motive for murder. Unless Miles had such revulsion for the prospect that he was driven to kill. That could be considered manslaughter, I’m guessing.”

“Okay, silliness aside. We know Miles didn’t have anything to do with Luella’s sudden death in your backyard. Just give me something. Who was Luella’s partner tonight? At least, starting out, since partners change.”

Myrtle said, “I was.” She really hated giving Red any actual information, since she felt whatever she knew gave her a head start. And she did so love figuring out the killer before Red could.

“Finally! Something we can work with. All right, so did you have an opportunity to talk to Luella at all?” asked Red.

Myrtle sighed. “She gossiped a little about the people in the room. Apparently, she was all about spreading rumors, which seems like a terrific motive for murder in a small town. Other than that, she was only interested in talking about Miles or smoking cigarettes. Technically, smoking is what killed her. If she hadn’t taken that smoke break, she’d be inside drinking wine and playing Bonkers right now.”

“Who, specifically, did she mention having gossip on?” asked Red, ignoring Myrtle’s anti-smoking community service message.

“Oh, let’s see. There was Estelle, the storm chaser, who is broke. And Florence, who she hinted has some age-related issues. And then there was Alma. But I don’t have any details because Luella didn’t want to spill the beans—she just wanted to feel smug.”

Red raised his eyebrows. “Still. That’s quite a bit of information to have worked out of the woman in a short span of time, Mama. I’m impressed.”

“I was goading her into it. Which is all your fault!” hissed Myrtle, shooting her son an annoyed look.


My
fault? How on earth is it my fault?” asked Red.

“You’re the one who tattled to Sloan about my correcting the newspaper. That sparked him to analyze
The Bradley Bugle
’s stats. Which made him reach the conclusion that the paper needed more local stories … particularly of the salacious variety. Sloan believed that Luella might have the scoop on everyone in Bradley. Which led him to ask me to interrogate Luella.” Myrtle shrugged as if this line of progression made perfect sense.

“Let’s get back to tonight,” urged Red. “We’ve been able to eliminate you, Miles, and Elaine. Anyone else?”

“I guess Georgia Simpson, too. She’s so loud that I could easily keep track of her. I heard that laugh right behind me the entire time after she entered my house. Miles can probably back me up on that, since he’s fascinated by her. He likely had one eye on her the whole time,” said Myrtle.

Red seemed bemused by this. “I wouldn’t put Miles and Georgia together.”

“Perhaps he had a memorable childhood experience involving a tattooed lady at the circus,” said Myrtle.

“Anyone else, Mama? Think it through for me. I know how observant you are.”

It was a sign of Red’s desperation that he used the word
observant
instead of his go-to word
nosy
to describe his mother’s activities. It was a smart move, too. It actually made her want to help him, instead of begrudging him the information.

“I’d like to imagine that Puddin could be responsible for this mess, judging from the other messes that she spearheaded today. But I can’t. Puddin is an utter disgrace, but I don’t think she goes around murdering people with Dusty’s rusty tools. And I can assure you that she did nothing but drink from a large glass of wine and corner Tippy Chambers at my front door the entire time. Tippy couldn’t even sit down or move into the room. Puddin acted as if she and Tippy were the very best of friends,” said Myrtle rolling her eyes. “In other words—Puddin and Tippy are out unless they were able to perform some sort of magical sleight of hand.”

Red jotted down notes. “Okay. I’m sure the SBI will be here any minute to help me take statements and they’ll have forensics with them. I asked Elaine to make sure everyone kept away from the kitchen and the backyard. Everyone should just stay relaxed and seated in there until we’re all done and can tell them to leave. I’m sure you’ll want to get back in there and play hostess.”

Myrtle intended on playing reporter, instead. This should be exactly the kind of story that Sloan was looking for to boost individual paper sales and maybe even loop in some new subscribers.

But Myrtle hadn’t counted on the appeal of alcohol in this stressful circumstance. As soon as poisoning was completely ruled out as a possible method, the Bunco ladies headed over to the wine table and proceeded to deplete the remaining reserves. Fortunately, Miles assured Myrtle in a low voice that he’d already announced that he was the designated driver for anyone who needed a ride home.

Once the state police arrived, things didn’t improve. They were rather rude, Myrtle thought. One of the SBI officers made snide statements about having to weave carefully around garden gnomes to look for evidence. It all seemed to take a very long time, too—the statement gathering, the wine drinking, the forensics. Things finally improved only when Myrtle’s favorite police officer, Lieutenant Perkins appeared on the scene.

Despite the fact that it was getting fairly late in the evening, Lieutenant Perkins wore a crisp white button down shirt, a pair of dark slacks that appeared to be recently ironed, and a red and gold tie. His super-short military-style haircut was official looking and professional. In comparison, Red was looking rough in his rumpled uniform, his five o’clock shadow, and circles under his eyes.

Lieutenant Perkins, usually a stoic man, smiled fondly at Myrtle and she couldn’t resist giving him an impish hug. Red rolled his eyes. He felt that Myrtle was constantly pumping the detective for information whenever he was helping with a case.

Just to prove him wrong, Myrtle asked, “How are things going for you, Lieutenant? How’s the family?” The detective had finally married over a year ago. For a long while it had seemed as though he were married to his job, instead. She’d been glad when Red had told her he’d finally settled down with a nice girl.

He surreptitiously glanced around him before pulling out his phone. “I’ve got a couple of pictures,” he said. He handed the phone to Myrtle.

Her eyes opened wide. “Of a baby! What a lovely little girl. How old is she?”

“She was born two weeks ago,” he said with a smile.

“And you look less sleep-deprived than Red does! That’s amazing.”

She glanced at Red, but he appeared to be studiously ignoring her as he spoke to one of the forensic team.

The detective became serious again. “But let’s talk about how
you’re
doing. Another body on your property. That’s got to be upsetting, Mrs. Clover.”

“Oh, it is. Believe me. But I absolve myself of any responsibility. I discouraged her from smoking, you know. Maybe not with my words, but
certainly
with my facial expression.”

Lieutenant Perkins’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Smoking? But your son was saying this was no natural death.”

“The smoking was a direct cause of her demise, Lieutenant. If Luella White hadn’t stepped out for a smoking break, she’d be alive this very moment,” said Myrtle.

The detective nodded, thinking this through. What Myrtle liked best about Lieutenant Perkins is that he was never dismissive of her ideas. In fact, in previous cases, he’d even encouraged her to share her ideas with him.

“Very true. And you know I always appreciate your keeping your eyes and ears open for me during a case. But what I most want is for you to stay safe. This murder hit very close to home this time,” he said.

“It doesn’t get any closer than this,” agreed Myrtle. She watched as a technician called him away. She decided it was time to go ahead and keep her eyes and ears open. Much as she liked Lieutenant Perkins, however, she wasn’t completely sure she would share any information with him. It was very pleasant to solve cases all by herself.

Myrtle noticed that Mimsy Kessler was very quiet throughout the process and her pale face was pinched with stress. Myrtle sat down across from her. “Mimsy, this must be a terrible shock for you. Luella was just telling me that you were her only living relative. Did she move to Bradley to be closer to you?”

Mimsy nodded, swallowing hard before speaking. “She did. I think she was tired of living away from family. But Luella had a really fabulous life—at some point I will get to the point of being able to celebrate her life and avoid dwelling on her violent death. She traveled everywhere, you know. She had some sort of big bank job before she moved here that meant she was over in Asia or Europe a lot. She used to send me postcards.” Mimsy choked up again. “I didn’t even really get to see her tonight at all. I wanted to talk to her, but I thought we’d just catch up later.”

“Where were you tonight instead of visiting with Luella?” asked Myrtle innocently, trying hard not to sound as if she were giving Mimsy the third degree.

Mimsy seemed not to notice Myrtle’s nosiness. “You know—just around, talking to everyone. Getting food. Refilling my wine glass. Around and about.”

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