"Vivian! So good to see you, my dear. Please have a seat with us."

Vivian did, carefully setting down her plate, full of a hodgepodge of beef casserole, potato salad, barbeque, and corn pudding.

Vivian blushed a little. "It looks like I went a little crazy in the buffet line."

"A perfectly normal reaction to some pretty extraordinary food. You've just arrived at our table too late to see how packed our own plates were," said Myrtle. "By the way, do you know Miles?"

Vivian politely shook his hand. "Good to meet you."

Myrtle said, "I was actually thinking, Vivian, that this service seems to have all the hallmarks of your organizational skills. Did you help Dinah out with the planning?"

Vivian nodded. "She seemed so lost when I visited her. The minister kept leaving messages for her. And leaving more messages. The more messages Dinah got, the more frozen she seemed to become. I finally asked her if she'd like me to get in contact with the church and set it all up." She gave them a wry smile. "But don't blame me for the length of the service."

"Oh, I knew that was a hallmark of this particular pastor. I ensured Miles and I were comfortably seated. And I think it's lovely that you stepped in and helped Dinah out. It all seemed like such a terrible shock to her. It's no wonder that she couldn't think through it. But it was really above and beyond the call of duty for you. I remember that you switched jobs."

That wry smile popped out again. "That's a kind way for you to put it. I was actually fired, as you probably know. There are no secrets in Bradley."

Myrtle nodded. "I did hear that. But I also heard that you'd done absolutely nothing wrong."

"That's very true. But you know what? Now I've got a remote customer service job and I have all this flexibility that I didn't have before. Being a single mom, flexibility means a lot to me." Vivian glanced across the room, her gaze resting briefly on Dinah. "Dinah actually helped me find the job. She kept saying she felt guilty about Luther letting me go the way he did. She was the one who gave me a reference and called a friend on my behalf."

Myrtle said, "I'm sure that made Dinah feel better about the whole situation. She's always struck me as a very fair-minded person."

"Exactly. I kept telling her that she shouldn't feel guilty. I mean, I wasn't happy when Luther decided to fire me, but it wasn't like I was going to harbor bad feelings over it. The problem with Luther was that he just didn't have the finesse to smooth things over. I totally accept that he was ready for a change in an assistant. It was just a shock when it happened so quickly."

Myrtle said, "I have to wonder if Dinah often helped clean up after Luther. Socially, I mean."

Vivian nodded. "I'm sure she did. For a while, I was the one who played that role. There would sometimes be an occasion where I'd have to write a soothing follow-up email or letter to make a bad situation better. I know Dinah must have done the same. She's been great to try and help me find more work after Luther left me high and dry."

Vivian's tone was very matter-of-fact.

"You're being very practical about all this, I must say, Vivian."

Miles nodded. "I think I wouldn't have felt much like organizing a funeral service for someone who'd recently fired me."

Vivian said, "I didn't really have time to nurse hurt feelings because I had to get food on the table for both me and my child. That didn't leave a lot of minutes for brooding. Besides, I was quickly over it, emotionally. Honestly, it was probably the best thing for my mental health to leave the company. I feel a lot less-stressed now." She glanced at Myrtle. "That's what I was telling Red. Although it looked like I had a good motive to do away with Luther, I really didn't."

"Did you have a good alibi for Red, my dear?" asked Myrtle. "That's one way to get him to leave you be."

Vivian snorted. "Unfortunately not. I guess innocent people don't realize they need one. My alibi was a sleeping preschooler, so that didn't do much good. But I sort of got the impression from Red that he believed me. With any luck, he's got better suspects than me."

Miles said, "Since you worked so closely with Luther, do you have any idea who might be a better suspect?"

Myrtle gave Miles a somewhat suppressing look. Sidekicks usually needed to be seen and not heard, even if he did broach a good question.

Vivian carefully considered this, frowning. Finally, she said, "I think I'd take a good look at Marshall Sanders."

"At Marshall? Why?" asked Myrtle.

"All I know is that I saw the two of them arguing. I wasn't in earshot, but neither one of them looked very happy, even though Luther did have a sort of smirk on his face. Maybe there's something there."

Then Vivian, apparently tiring of the subject of murder, decided to launch into an entirely different subject. Which is how Miles ended up finding himself in the midst of a discussion about women's scarves and how to wear them.

They all finished up their food and then Vivian said with a smile, "It was good talking to the two of you. I'd better check in with Dinah to see if she needs anything else. Take care."

Myrtle thoughtfully watched Vivian as she walked up to Dinah's table to speak with her.

"Well," said Miles. "That was a very grown-up attitude she had about Luther leaving her in the lurch that way."

"Wasn't it? I can't help but think that perhaps it's a little too pat. Practiced."

Miles frowned. "Really? She seemed very genuine to me."

"She gives the appearance of being genuine. But when Luther fired her, it must have been an incredibly stressful and scary time for Vivian. She's the sole provider for a small child. And Vivian knew she hadn't done anything wrong—that she was an excellent assistant. Plus, it's very difficult in a small town to find any sort of quick income replacement."

Miles raised an eyebrow. "You're making the whole situation sound like something out of Les Misérables."

"Yes, it's very like a Victor Hugo storyline. Yet she seems so well-adjusted about it; not bitter at all. It's perplexing."

Miles said, "Maybe she just has an 'all's well that ends well' mentality about it."

"I must say you're doing very well with the literary allusions today, Miles."

Myrtle was about to launch into more thoughts on Vivian when a cheery voice behind her said, "Just the lady I was hoping to speak with."

It was Tippy. Myrtle looked suspicious as Tippy carefully folded herself into a seat next to her.

Tippy turned to smile at Miles. "How are you doing, Miles?"

"Pretty well, Tippy, thanks." At funeral services, Miles always considered himself as doing relatively well, considering the alternative.

Tippy beamed at Myrtle. "I was speaking with Red a few minutes ago."

"A highly-ill-advised activity," muttered Myrtle.

"He was telling me that you were looking for things to do. That you'd been feeling a little at a loss lately."

Myrtle's eyes narrowed. She could see where this was heading. "Did he?"

"That's right. It's understandable, isn't it? The heat has been ferocious. Thank goodness it tamped down a little bit for the service today or we'd all have been roasting. I know I've been feeling sort of trapped inside with my air conditioning lately. Anyway, Red mentioned that you might want to help out with chancel guild."

Myrtle gritted her teeth. "That is a fallacy."

Tippy's face fell. "Oh dear. Was it just Red being Red?"

"I'm afraid he's misled you," said Myrtle. "I have no interest in helping out with chancel guild."

Tippy sighed. "Well, it was worth a try, anyway. I guess I should have known Red was just trying to keep you occupied."

The three of them looked across the room where Red was standing near the table of lemonade and iced tea. He had a dour expression on his face, likely because he knew his hopes had been dashed.

Tippy said, "So what are you doing instead, Myrtle? You must have some sort of dangerous pastime that Red is trying to keep you away from."

"It's only dangerous in Red's head. I'm doing a bit of investigative reporting for Sloan. On Luther's death."

Tippy raised a well-groomed eyebrow. "Are you? How is that going? It seemed as though Ezra was the talk of garden club. Do you think he had something to do with Luther's death?"

"I don't. He didn't know Luther and had no motive whatsoever to kill him. I do believe that someone might be setting him up as the fall guy for the murder, though. After all, it seems someone went out of their way to implicate him."

Miles said, "As a matter of fact, Tippy, you'll be doing everyone a favor if you let people know that Ezra had nothing against Luther. He's sort of a friend of Myrtle's and mine."

Tippy knew just about everyone in town. What was more, Tippy was something of a local influencer. If Tippy were to spread word that Ezra wasn't connected with Luther's death at all, that would be the end of it.

"I see," said Tippy slowly. "Yes, of course I'll let everyone know. It's a terrible thing to be wrongfully accused. Good luck with your story for the paper, Myrtle."

"Thanks. Sorry about the chancel guild thing."

Tippy gave her a smile. "Well, you know what they say. If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is."

As Tippy set off for her table, Myrtle said, "Let's make haste before Red tells more old biddies that I want to volunteer."

Miles said as they made a quick exit, "You do volunteer, though."

"On my own terms."

They got into the car and Miles drove her home. Myrtle surveyed her funeral outfit. "I don't see a single spot on me."

"You never do. The spots only materialize the next time you have a funeral to attend."

"True. I suppose I'll throw these in the washer when I get home. I'm just trying to preserve the outfit as long as possible. It wasn't cheap," said Myrtle.

"Just make sure to hang it to dry," said Miles with the air of someone who has been taking care of his clothes for a good many years.

Myrtle hopped out of the car when Miles pulled up into the driveway. "Thanks for the ride," she said. "Want to come inside?"

He shook his head. "I would. But I have to play chess with Elaine."

"Mercy. A funeral and a charity chess game? You're certainly taking care of your good deeds for the day."

Miles gave her a sad look. "Yes. But maybe Jack will find a way to interrupt this game, too. I can only hope."

Miles's departure meant that Myrtle would spend the rest of the day left to her own devices. She washed and hung up her funeral outfit to dry. She had a crossword puzzle book that Red had given her in the hopes of providing her with a quiet, safe activity. Myrtle quickly finished three puzzles in a row and decided that if anyone wanted to gift her a new puzzle book, it should be full of cryptic crosswords.

Then Pasha came over for a short visit and they watched a bit of a wildlife show, which greatly entertained Myrtle and made Pasha drop off for a long nap on Myrtle's sofa.

When ten o'clock rolled around, Myrtle decided it was time to try and cobble together some sleep. The house somehow still felt very warm so she set the temperature low and got ready for bed.

There she lay awake for twenty minutes. Twenty minutes was the limit for Myrtle in terms of chasing elusive sleep. She got up, unloaded the dishwasher, ironed her now-dry funeral outfit, and did other equally-boring activities before lying in bed again.

At four o'clock, she woke with a start with the strange feeling that she'd overslept. This was quite an unusual sensation for Myrtle. For one, she rarely slept, much less overslept. For another, she didn't have anything in her life that she could possibly oversleep for. There was certainly no reason to set an alarm of any kind.

She got up and proceeded to get ready for her day, that odd feeling of needing to attend to something still looming over her. She dressed, ate breakfast, and flew through several more crosswords while she waited for the newspaper to appear in her driveway.

Then, around five o'clock when she was finally ensconced in her kitchen with coffee and the paper, the phone rang, making her jump. Pasha, who was still hanging around to enjoy the air conditioning, gave Myrtle a reproachful look.

"Hello," answered Myrtle in a breathless voice.

"It's Wanda," croaked a ruined voice on the other end. Identification was unnecessary as soon as Myrtle heard her speak, but Wanda was nothing if not courteous.

"Wanda? Goodness, is something wrong?"

"Not with me. But Ezra is at the park and mightneed a friendly face," drawled Wanda