Progressive Dinner Deadly (16 page)

“Apparently not,” said Miles. “But think about it….there were no sirens or blue lights. Red just ran across the street and then walked back across with Willow to put her in the car. And Lieutenant Perkins probably drove in quietly. There’s no murder so there’s not a huge forensics team taking pictures or roping the place off. There are probably just a couple of people over there collecting evidence to use against Willow.”

“I guess I’ll need to keep out of their way,” said Myrtle. “Which won’t be hard since I’m going directly to bed. Today is finally catching up with me.”

Miles walked her home and inside her house. The two officers inside just motioned which area to keep away from and Myrtle headed off to bed. “Just lock the door behind you,” said Myrtle. “Although I guess it’s not so dangerous anymore.”

I
t was still
very early in the day, particularly since Myrtle had been out so late the night before, when the phone rang.

It was Willow.

Myrtle’s heart lurched when she heard Willow’s voice. “I have this terrible feeling that Kojak is in Cullen’s yard, Miss Myrtle. You know—tied to a tree. Whenever Jill wasn’t there, Cullen tied him up. That’s why I had to rescue him. And Red said Kojak had ended up back at Cullen’s house again.”

“What about Simon? Couldn’t he take the dog?”

“Oh no, Miss Myrtle. Kojak
hates
Simon. He can take Miss Chivis, the cat, though. Can you make sure Libba gets the cat? I know she was real sick with cancer and all last year, but she seems better now. I think she can handle pet ownership.”

“Yes, all right. And I remember you mentioning something about Simon and Kojak not getting along. Why is that, again?”

“Animals can just tell when someone doesn’t like them. Simon doesn’t like Kojak. I know it’s a little bit of an imposition, especially considering last night,” continued Willow shyly, “but I know how great you’ve been with your cat. I was wondering if you could just untie Kojak? Just let him loose in the yard. And make sure he has food and water out there? I really, really appreciate it.”

Her train has missed the station. Attempts at murder one day, asking you to pet sit the next.

Still, it wasn’t such a bad idea. Odd as it may seem, Myrtle didn’t have a
done
feeling about the case. Yes, the killer was behind bars. But it felt like there was some sort of loose end—a bit of unresolved hate somewhere, maybe. And Myrtle was curious to see the dog that had helped spur Willow’s hatred of Cullen.

Feeling a little like an animal rights activist from PETA, Myrtle opened the gate and looked around for Kojak. She stopped, frowning. She didn’t see anything that looked like a Kojak. No big dogs. No small dogs, either. But she did hear a mournful baying inside Cullen’s house. Apparently Cullen hadn’t gotten around yet to chaining up the poor dog.

She’d come back by tomorrow and make sure Kojak wasn’t chained up. Myrtle was just turning to slip back out the gate when she heard. “Whatchu doin’ here, Miz Myrtle?”

Myrtle nearly jumped out of her skin before she realized it was just Tiny Kirk looming over her. “Tiny! You scared the fool out of me.”

Tiny looked like he thought a Myrtle Clover minus the fool might be a vast improvement.

Myrtle saw that Tiny’s truck with his yard equipment was in Cullen’s driveway. “Oh. I guess you’re here to clean up the yard.”

Tiny nodded. “Mr. Caulfield hired me to clean it up, since Miz Caulfield was dead and can’t cut the grass no more.”

“I’m surprised Mr. Caulfield even
cares
,” said Myrtle.

“Mr.
Simon
Caulfield hired me.”

“Oh.” Myrtle guessed Simon didn’t want to be embarrassed by a veritable jungle in his brother’s yard. Seeing that Tiny was still looking at her curiously, Myrtle added, “I was just here to let Kojak off the chain. But he’s inside, judging from all the barking going on in there.”

Tiny still looked puzzled—even more than was his natural expression.

“Willow called me and asked me to make sure the dog wasn’t chained in the back yard,” she finished lamely.

“Willow?” Tiny knit his brows and leaned forward over Myrtle as if to hear better. “I didn’t know you were friends with Willow.”

Neither did Myrtle.

“Well, yes, but she was worried about the dog. She knows that I…care about animals.”

Tiny gave his shaggy head a shake as if to clear it. “All I know, Miss Myrtle, is that I need that dog leashed up while I mow. At least he’s not out here this time, but next time I’m going to have to chain him up if he’s outside.”

Myrtle was sick of the whole conversation by this time. “Well, can’t you just let him off again when you’re done?”

“That’s no problem, Miz Myrtle.”

Sherry appeared in the back yard with them. It was getting to be a regular party, Myrtle thought grimly. “Wonder what’s wrong with Kojak?” she asked. “He never bays like that.”

Myrtle shook her head and Sherry hesitated. “Maybe we should go in and check on him. Cullen’s not used to taking care of the dog—maybe he’s forgotten to feed him or let him out. Miss Myrtle, would you mind going in there with me?”

Myrtle was starting to think forward to a big cup of coffee and writing the front page exclusive. “I suppose we should,” she said grudgingly. “But how will we get inside?”

“I’ve got a key,” said Sherry. “I used to watch the animals for Jill and Cullen when they went out of town.”

But Sherry didn’t need her key because the door was unlocked. As soon as Sherry pushed it open, Kojak came charging out, howling balefully. Myrtle drew in a sharp breath. Kojak was spattered with blood. “He’s hurt!” said Sherry, bending over to gently examine the basset hound, who looked nothing at all like a Kojak. Myrtle grimly continued walking into the house.

She froze when she found what she’d known she’d find as soon as she saw Kojak. It was Cullen, shot dead on his den floor. A revolver lay in his hand.

Myrtle turned around quickly to keep Sherry from following her into the den. But it was too late. “That’s funny. Kojak doesn’t seem to have a scratch on him—”she stopped short and stared at the body on the floor. And though Myrtle never would have pegged Sherry as a screamer, she started a horrific, hysterical shrieking that pierced the air as she took a few steps toward Cullen.

Myrtle grabbed her arm. “Sherry! Sherry, we can’t touch him. We’ve got to stay back.”

Sherry took her words to heart and ran
away
from the body, plowing back through the kitchen and out the backdoor, screaming all the way. Myrtle heard the lawnmower cut off in the backyard as Sherry’s shrieks permeated the noise of the machine.

Myrtle knew she only had a couple of minutes at most to quickly look around before neighbors would be rushing in with Red hot on their tail. She put her hands behind her back so she wouldn’t be tempted to touch anything and contaminate it and then glanced rapidly around the room.

It certainly
looked
like a suicide. Cullen had pulled the trigger in his mouth, with devastating consequences. The gun was right there in his hand. And, sure enough, there was a piece of white paper on the coffee table. Myrtle leaned over, holding on to her cane as she squinted at the printed text.

I killed Jill because I wanted to be with Sherry and couldn’t afford a divorce. The guilt is killing me, though. I’m signing off. Cullen

Myrtle frowned. This wasn’t right. Cullen
hadn’t
killed Jill. And this didn’t even sound like something that Cullen would write.

Unfortunately, one of the old biddies from across the street had immediately called the police as soon as she heard Sherry’s screams. Since their neighborhood was on high alert, there was apparently a zero tolerance policy for early morning shrieking. Myrtle could already hear Red yelling in the yard, “Everybody get
back
. Move back to the sidewalk! Now!” Myrtle quickly backed away from the coffee table and Cullen’s body and moved to the kitchen.

Red glowered at her as he pushed the backdoor open. “Mama! Why am I not surprised?”

“I can easily explain what I was doing here, Red. It’s because of Kojak—the basset hound. Willow called me on the phone—”

Red held up a hand. “
Willow?
Can we talk about this later? And please go out to the sidewalk with everybody else in the neighborhood.”

The scene outside was, in contrast to the stillness and quiet in Cullen’s den, chaotic. Myrtle’s cell phone started ringing as soon as she walked outside. “Miss Myrtle? Can you get over to Cullen Caulfield’s house? Big story.”

It was Sloan. Sloan’s definition of a big story usually encompassed Frannie Brock’s prize winning tomatoes. But this time he was right about the size of the story.

“I’m one step ahead of you today, Sloan. I discovered the body. With Sherry.”

“You did
what
? Miss Myrtle! I could kiss you!”

“I can assure you that won’t be necessary,” said Myrtle. “And I have another big story for you, too—Willow tried to kill me last night. She was the murderer all along.” She said this in a low voice as she slowly thumped her way back out to the sidewalk in front of the house.

“
What
?” Sloan’s voice was absolutely delighted. Myrtle could tell he was already envisioning the headline on the front page.

“I’ll tell you the whole story when I see you,” said Myrtle. “There are too many people crowded around and I want them to read the story in the paper, not hear it from me while I’m blabbering on the phone to you.”

Sloan gave a low whistle. “So it was Willow all the time. Of course, I’ve gotta get a stand-in for her—don’t guess she’ll be writing horoscopes anytime soon. You think you can get out of there and write me up a quick story? We could squeeze out a special edition of the paper before everyone hears the news about Willow. I can make some calls and maybe even get a couple of extra advertisers. Hmm.” Sloan was already counting the dollars in his head.

“I’m going to probably be here for the next forty-five minutes or so. Red is probably going to want to question me about finding Cullen. But then I’ll get right home and type you up a quick story.”

Miles was already walking up along with several other neighbors, so Myrtle hung up while Sloan was still yammering about the article.

“Sherry said,” murmured Miles, “that Cullen killed himself.”

Myrtle shook her head, crossly. “No. Someone wanted us to
think
he killed himself.”

“But she saw the gun in his hand.”

“There’s no
reason
for Cullen to have killed himself. Why would he do such a thing?”

“Maybe he was depressed. He seemed really guilty about cheating on Jill, especially since she died the day she found out. Maybe he couldn’t stand the status quo anymore.”

“That might be true, but he didn’t
kill
himself,” hissed Myrtle. “The suicide note? He confessed to killing Jill in it.”

Miles gaped at her.

“Which means that someone killed Cullen before they found out Jill’s murderer was Willow. Someone wanted to get rid of Cullen Caulfield and have it written off as the suicide of a guilty man. And I don’t think that someone was Willow—the crime scene looked too recent for Willow to have done it. She spent the night in jail. Besides, Kojak wasn’t going berserk for too many hours.”

Miles started sputtering questions but Myrtle shushed him as Erma Sherman waddled up.

Erma gave Miles and Myrtle an oppressive group hug, knocking Myrtle’s head into Miles’. Erma had now inserted herself in their tete-a-tete. “Isn’t it
awful
?” asked Erma with obvious delight. “I guess Cullen couldn’t live with himself anymore after killing Jill! And he killed himself!”

Myrtle frowned at her, which was her normal expression when dealing with Erma. “And where would you get an idea like that?” Myrtle gave Miles a repressing look.

“Well, Sherry told a bunch of us that he’d killed himself. I think Sherry believes he was upset over her dumping him.” Erma laughed unpleasantly. “But it’s clear
that
wasn’t it. We all know that Cullen was the one who dumped
Sherry
, not the other way around. Cullen would just have moved on to the next pretty face. No, he killed himself because of guilt. He was wracked with it!” Erma’s face lit up with the possibilities.

Myrtle gritted her teeth. How the hell did Erma know about Sherry and Cullen’s relationship? It had taken her half the case to find out that the two of them were having a fling.

“Sherry will obviously need some grief counseling. People in Bradley will be sure to bring casseroles and condolences once they know how close Cullen and Sherry really were.” A thoughtful look passed over Erma’s face. “Don’t you think we should have gun control in Bradley?” Erma asked. “Maybe Red can do something, Myrtle. He needs to do something about banning guns in Bradley. People should not be able to go around killing themselves here.”