Free Death Pays a Visit (A Myrtle Clover Mystery Book 7) by Elizabeth Spann Craig Page A

lot of handholding too, on a regular basis. “So Darrell doesn’t mind that kind of thing, then?”
    “Not at all. It doesn’t even seem to frustrate him. In fact, Red says that he enters Miriam Morehead’s house every single time as if ready to jump an intruder. He has the ability to take it seriously even multiple times a week.” Elaine swiftly moved the remote control away from Jack, whose gaze had just latched onto it.
    “Well, he sounds like a gift, then. Because I don’t think Red has it in him to be that patient under those circumstances,” said Myrtle.
    Elaine said, “The only problem is that Red is worried that Darrell is coddling these old ladies. Red would ordinarily not really have to go into Miriam’s house. He’d be able to convince her on the phone that everything was all right and that he’d be there in a flash if she did discover there was someone in her house. If Darrell is encouraging them too much, then Red’s job is going to be a lot harder when he returns.”
    They heard thumping and some muttered curses and Red stood in the doorway leading from the hall. “Mama. Thought I heard you,” said Red.
    Myrtle tried very, very hard to keep her face pleasant but impassive. The sight of her son on a walker when he’d tried so many times to put the infernal contraption in her own house gave her a very un-Christian-like sense of satisfaction … especially, she hurried to reassure herself, since it was only a temporary measure, after all. It wasn’t as if Red were permanently disabled. And suddenly, Myrtle felt very spry on her cane. She resisted the urge to show off by prancing around the den.
    “Red, you are in for a treat today.”
    Red’s expression brightened. “You’re packing your gnomes away? Or, better yet, taking a sledgehammer to them?”
    “Don’t be silly. No, I’m hereby naming today Mother and Son day. And very possibly Mother and Son and Grandson day,” said Myrtle.
    Red shot Elaine an alarmed look before giving his mother a grimacing grin. “Ah. Well, that’s real nice of you, Mama. Real nice.”
    “Can I get you something, Red?” asked Elaine, shifting on the sofa as if she were about to get up.
    “No, I’m thinking that I should do a little bit of walking. At least to the coffeemaker,” grunted Red as he maneuvered the walker forward.
    “It’s a good idea,” said Myrtle, “although I’m not sure what you’re going to do with that coffee cup after you’ve poured it, what with pushing the walker and all.” She wasn’t trying to be a smarty-pants. Hers was simply the voice of experience. A cane offered a lot more latitude too.
    Red narrowed his eyes at her a little. “Well, I suppose that’s true. So I guess I’ll pour it and sit for a spell in the kitchen.”
    Elaine asked, “Myrtle, want to move into the kitchen with us? I can give you a refill on that coffee and I’ve got some blueberry muffins that I made yesterday.”
    “Sounds lovely, but I should be heading back home. Red, I’ll have a real visit with you this afternoon … with Jack, too, if Elaine wants to head out solo. So that means I have a few things to get done before then. Y’all have a nice morning.” Myrtle gave Red a cheery wave, kissed the top of Jack’s head as she stood up, and gave Elaine a quick hug.
    Somehow, that visit had managed to last until after eight. Surely, Miles would be up now. It felt almost like lunchtime. She walked over to his house and rang his doorbell. Instead of seeing signs of Miles moving around, though, she saw signs of Erma Sherman stirring next door as Erma shoved a couple of windows open on the front of her house. It was never a good time of day to have an Erma sighting. In desperation and rising panic, she rang the doorbell a couple more times.
    Now a bleary-eyed Miles, sporting stubble, yanked open his door and stared at her, blinking in the sunlight. Myrtle pushed past him. “Erma’s out there,” she muttered.
    “Erma lives there,” said