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

Miles. She’s a real piece of work.” Myrtle and Miles were back in Miles’s car and heading back home.
    “She’s a very brazen young woman,” said Miles, still looking a little ruddy.
    “She was flirting with you.” Myrtle pursed her lips. It might possibly be considered condescending for a lovely young woman to flirt with a gentleman Miles’s age and she hated condescension. If it wasn’t condescension, it was certainly impertinence.
    “I believe it’s what comes naturally to her. I think she may flirt with anyone. I think it’s her normal way of interacting with people,” said Miles in a mild voice.
    They pulled up into Myrtle’s driveway. “Well, thanks for driving me here and yonder today. You even missed your soap.”
    Miles winced. “Please don’t keep saying that. I really don’t want people to think I’m a regular soap opera viewer.”
    Myrtle said, “Why don’t you come in and watch it with me? I’ve got ice cream. We can have chocolate ice cream with chocolate syrup. I tape the show and I know you don’t. We can find out if Cheryl and Justin ever escaped from that mad bomber. And if Kayla got away from the cult.”
    Miles sighed. “The fact that those are examples of actual storylines makes me wonder again why I’m watching the show. But the ice cream does sound really good.”
    “Sometimes you have to have bubble gum for the brain,” said Myrtle. “Gives me an opportunity to rest my mind a little while.”
    “Okay,” said Miles. “Although don’t get mad if I drift off during the show. I’m feeling pretty tired out. I’m not like you, you know. You have more energy than a two-year-old on caffeine.”
    He followed Myrtle in and helped her fix the bowls of ice cream. They brought them into Myrtle’s small living room and she messed with a couple of remotes for a few minutes until a menu came up. She grunted, looking at the list of shows. “Where’s Tomorrow’s Promise ?”
    “Didn’t it tape?”
    “I can’t find it on the list!  What on earth?”  Myrtle kept scrolling up and down on the list of taped shows. “What’s wrong with this thing?”
    “Flip over to live TV and see what’s on that station,” said Miles. “Maybe the show got preempted for some reason.”
    Myrtle muttered under her breath, fumbling with the remotes again until she pulled up the station that Tomorrow’s Promise ordinarily showed on. “Tennis!  For heaven’s sake. Tennis is on.”
    “I rather like tennis,” said Miles in a mild tone. He took a big bite of his chocolate ice cream with chocolate syrup.
    “I only watch tennis when it airs on Sundays,” said Myrtle stoutly. “Why is it coming on during the week in the afternoon?”
    “It’s a tournament,” said Miles. “It’s not as if we missed anything. The show didn’t come on today. So when it’s back on tomorrow, they’ll pick up where they left off.”
    “Yes, thank you, I understand the way preempted shows work,” groused Myrtle. “I’m just annoyed that a sporting event is messing up my plans.”
    “We could watch tennis,” suggested Miles, “since you don’t mind watching it either. This Russian woman who is playing now is supposed to be very good.”
    “No, because now I’m annoyed at the tennis game for bumping off my show,” said Myrtle. She fumed for a moment, staring at her melting ice cream. “Now I feel restless again. Maybe I should go put out more flyers for Pasha.”
    “Myrtle!  Haven’t you done enough today? Besides, you’ve covered the area, and talked to enough suspects for one day, too.”
    “I don’t want to talk to more suspects today,” said Myrtle. “But putting out more flyers makes sense.”
    “It doesn’t, actually,” said Miles in a patient voice that set Myrtle’s teeth on edge. “I’ve been reading up on data about missing cats. One article I read said that cats could become quite disoriented when they’re in even slightly unfamiliar territory…particularly if they were