A Body at Book Club (Myrtle Clover Mysteries) by Elizabeth Spann Craig

mean…remind me why she’s a suspect. What’s her motive, again?”
    “Well, I was tipped off to Maxine when she was positively grinning when Naomi’s death was announced at book club. It wasn’t merely inappropriate—it was quite telling. Lena Fowler also brought up Maxine. She wouldn’t tell me much, but she mentioned that Maxine saw Naomi as competition of some kind. I guess Maxine must have thought that Naomi was after her boyfriend—something like that! That does seem to be Naomi’s usual modus operandi. But Maxine doesn’t seem like the kind of woman men leave. I mean, she’s quite attractive,” said Myrtle.
    Miles grew flustered again. Really, this was going to be most amusing if Miles kept getting discombobulated whenever Maxine or Maxine’s appearance was brought up. He must have quite a crush.
    They arrived at a small white house with a bit of gingerbread trim on the sides and a front porch just large enough to hold three rocking chairs.
    “It almost looks as if she knew we were coming. Look, three chairs, Miles,” said Myrtle.
    “Is she psychic, too?” asked Miles in a grouchy tone.
    Maxine didn’t seem to have any otherworldly talents as far as Myrtle could tell. She seemed, in fact, very focused on making the most of her physical talents. Maxine was an attractive woman in a very obvious way. She greeted them with delight, as if she wanted nothing more for the afternoon than to entertain an extremely elderly woman and her widower companion. She had on a rather tight purple top and a rather short black skirt and wore espadrilles and a lot of eye makeup.
    “You’re staring at her,” said Myrtle, glaring at Miles as Maxine hurried inside to get them some lemonade.
    “I’m trying not to,” said Miles in a strained voice. “But Maxine always wears very tight garments. It’s very difficult to avoid staring.”
    “Here we are,” sang out Maxine as she joined them again on the porch. She set down a tray with lemonade for the three of them on a small table and then distributed the glasses. Myrtle took a sip and raised her eyebrows. Homemade lemonade.
    “I’m delighted to see y’all today, but of course I know you must be here on a mission,” said Maxine, getting right to the point. Perhaps she did have something to do after they left this afternoon. “What might it be? A message about next month’s selection for book club? A rescheduled garden club meeting? Fundraising for impoverished Eastern European children?”  Maxine gave a perfect smile with her perfectly lipsticked mouth and her perfectly gleaming teeth.
    Miles cleared his throat. “Well, actually–” He began hoarsely.
    “Actually,” Myrtle stepped in smoothly, “Miles is helping me hand out flyers.”
    Myrtle was all set to go into her spiel about Pasha, what she looked like, and the circumstances of her mysterious disappearance when Maxine nodded with complete understanding.
    “That’s right,” she said with total recall, “at the book club meeting you mentioned that you’d lost your cat. A black cat. Pasha. There was a scuffle involving those mongrel dogs, right? You haven’t found her yet?”
    Myrtle gaped at Maxine in amazement. Here was apparently the one person at book club who had actually been paying attention to Myrtle. And she could even remember all the small details, including the cat’s name.
    Maxine smiled at her. “Are these the flyers you’re putting out?”  She held out a well-manicured hand to take one from Myrtle. Myrtle handed one to her, wordlessly. She could see a tiny tattoo on Maxine’s shoulder that briefly came into view before her purple top covered it again.
    Maxine studied the flyer. “All right. Now that I know Miss Pasha’s face, I’ll be on the lookout for her. Don’t worry about her. I remember I lost a cat once…years and years ago. Buttons was gone for two months. I’d given up hope that she was coming back—I’d searched and searched so…you know. I figured the poor