"At the park? Do botanists go to the park at five a.m.? That seems more like a birdwatcher thing to do."

"Don't know," said Wanda, sounding sleepy. "Jest might want to head over there." Having delivered her message, Wanda was now clearly trying to get off the phone and return to her slumbers.

"All right—thanks. Go get some sleep," said Myrtle.

Wanda didn't need to be told twice. She quickly signed off.

Since Myrtle was already completely ready for her day despite the early hour, she walked over to Miles's house. She'd found herself waking Miles up quite a few times lately, so was relieved to see the lights on in his living room. She tapped on the door and Miles, after cautiously looking out the window, opened the door.

"Something wrong?" he asked. "You look as though you're on a mission."

"And usually I'm just on a mission for coffee and company. Wanda called me. She said that Ezra needs our help."

Fortunately, Miles was also ready to leave, despite being somewhat well dressed for the park at five a.m. in khakis and a button-down shirt. They climbed into his Volvo.

"We're heading to Ezra's house?" he asked.

"To the park," said Myrtle.

"This early?" Miles sounded confused. "Who goes to the park at this time of the morning?"

"Botanists," said Myrtle with a shrug.

When they arrived at the park, they saw quite a few police cars and forensics vans. "What kind of trouble exactly was Ezra in?" asked Miles slowly.

"I have no idea. You know how the sight works."

"Or doesn't work," said Miles with a sigh. "It often gives us just a hint of information without really clueing us in on the important stuff."

"At any rate, it certainly sounded as if Wanda had every expectation of us being able to help Ezra. She didn't make it sound as if he'd met his Maker." Although Myrtle was getting a sinking feeling in her stomach as she saw the number of emergency vehicles there.

Miles, as usual, was leery about parking near the police cars. Instead, he carefully parked a short distance away, backing into the space so they had a clear view of the park.

"I think we should get out. It's too dark—Ezra won't be able to see us from here." Myrtle got out of the car and Miles, rather unhappily, followed her.

As Myrtle walked up, she surveyed the scene. There was an ambulance there, but the EMTs didn't seem to be in any hurry to help anyone. Then Myrtle stopped. "Isn't that him right there? Ezra?"

Miles peered ahead. "I think so."

"Oh look, he's waving at us! And just like Wanda said, he looks relieved to see a friendly face." Myrtle waved back and soon Ezra, who looked stressed and exhausted, joined them.

"Gracious, what's happened, Ezra?" asked Myrtle. "Do you want to come over to my house and talk?"

He shook his head, looking grim. "I don't think I can. Not yet, anyway. I've spoken with Red, but he said the state police wanted to talk to me, too. I'd better stick around."

"What are you doing here so early?" asked Myrtle. "Some sort of botany work?"

Ezra gave a rueful laugh. "No botany, just an attempt at getting some exercise in. I'd like to be someone who runs. From time to time, I give running a go since my blood pressure was pretty high at my last physical. Exercise, according to my doctor, is supposed to be a good way to deal with stress."

Miles's expression indicated that he couldn't imagine what could be stressful about botany.

Myrtle, however, said in a knowing way, "Of course it is. So you came to the park to run on the paths before your workday started. But, judging from the various emergency vehicles I'm seeing, you must have made some sort of discovery. Or witnessed a crime of some sort."

Ezra nodded, his face strained. "Yes. Although Red seems to think I instigated a crime."

"Well, I'm sure he'll be disabused of that notion soon," said Myrtle.

"I'm not so sure. The problem is that I have no alibi and that I discovered the body."

"Whose body?" asked Myrtle, leaning forward.

"Jasper's. Jasper Hodges." Ezra gave a shiver, despite the fact that it was very warm outside.

Myrtle drew in a breath. "I suppose Jasper was out here exercising, too?"

"He had the right gear on for that." Ezra gave a small shrug, watching the forensics team as they worked nearby.

"And his body?" pressed Myrtle. "Did it look as if Jasper had a natural death? Some sort of coronary event while he was jogging?"

Ezra shook his head and swallowed. "No. There was nothing natural about his death. It looked like someone had hit Jasper over the head with something heavy. Like a crowbar or a tire iron or something."

Myrtle looked grim. "He must have known something."

A voice behind them barked. "Mama!"

Myrtle turned to give her son a sweet smile. "Good morning, Red. Having a busy day so far?"

"What in the blue blazes are you doing here?" He gave Ezra a glare through narrowed eyes that made the botanist shift nervously. "You didn't call her, did you?"

Ezra shook his head vigorously.

"Wanda called me," said Myrtle in a cold voice. "Of course I wanted to come right over at once."

"And you badgered poor Miles to drive you over. So I've got a chain-smoking psychic wandering around my crime scene, too?" Red frowned and glanced around, looking for a thin woman in the faint light.

"Wanda quit smoking, Red. For a policeman, you aren't particularly observant. And no, she's not here. That's because she doesn't have to be here to know about what's happening. She had a vision of some sort, called me up, and then she went back to sleep."

Red grunted.

Myrtle gestured at Ezra. "I understand you think that poor Ezra might be responsible for Jasper's death."

Red glowered at Ezra for disclosing Jasper's identity to Myrtle. "Mama, you know that I have to follow procedure. Everyone is considered a suspect at first."

"But why on earth would Ezra call you if he'd just killed Jasper?" asked Myrtle. "It simply doesn't make any sense."

Red shrugged and glanced over at Ezra. "Because he's smart. And he could be purposefully doing something a smart person wouldn't do, just to make the police look elsewhere."

Ezra said, "Look, I don't even know this guy."

"You knew him well enough to recognize him," said Red.

Myrtle decided that Red's foul mood could be attributed to the early hour. He did seem more irascible than usual.

Ezra sighed. "We live in a small town, which means I can match just about anyone's face with a name. But that doesn't mean that I know them. I'm an introverted person and spend a lot of my time by myself. I'm not especially outgoing."

"But people in town seem to know you better than you know them. Some folks have suggested that you're involved in Luther's death."

Ezra stretched his hands out. "Look, people in Bradley can be suspicious of things they don't completely understand. And they don't understand me or what I do. That's why I give these botany talks."

Red said, "I thought you said you did those because you loved talking about plants."

Myrtle glared at him. "For heaven's sake, Red, let the man talk."

Red pressed his lips together.

Ezra said, "I do love talking about plants. But I'm also trying to educate the town about native plants, dangerous plants, and what I do as a botanist. I'm trying to be a little more accepted, in my own way."

Red raised an eyebrow. "And you were here at the park before dawn because of . . . plants? Are you sure you didn't know Jasper would be here for his daily run?"

"I wasn't here because of anything to do with botany. I came over because my blood pressure has been high and my doctor recommended I run to help reduce it."

"Then you've probably seen Jasper here at the park sometimes," said Red smoothly. "If you follow a routine. You seem like a routine-oriented kind of guy."

Myrtle frowned at Red's tone.

Ezra shook his head. "I've been too sporadic with my workouts. I haven't been doing them regularly enough to have them become a habit yet. But I have seen Jasper the times that I have made it over here."

Red grunted.

Myrtle said in a pointed fashion, "Running is good for reducing blood pressure, Red."

"So are mothers that behave themselves," said Red dryly. He turned to Ezra again. "If you didn't have anything to do with Jasper's death, do you have any ideas who might have?"

"I don't. Like I said, I didn't know Jasper, so I don't have any insights as to who might be responsible for this. I'd like to help you out, Red, but I just can't."

Red was about to reply to this when another policeman called out to him. He said, "Okay. You're free to go, Ezra. Just make sure you're available if I need to speak with you again." He headed off to talk to the other officer.

Ezra slumped. "He thinks I'm a double murderer."

"He thinks no such thing," said Myrtle. "He's just not a morning person. It makes him cranky to get up so early."

"I'll have to remember that the next time I find a body," said Ezra dryly. "I have the feeling that I should get out of here as quickly as I can before I'm a suspect in some other crime."

"No exercising?" asked Miles with a smile.

Ezra snorted. "The way my heart has been racing in the last thirty minutes, I've already had my workout."

"Before you leave, I did want to ask you a couple of questions. I had the opportunity to speak with Olive," said Myrtle.

Ezra gave a crooked smile. "Sorry about that."

"Yes, it was very trying, as all conversations with Olive are. As you mentioned, Olive does not seem to be a member of your fan club. She seemed positively delighted that you might be involved in all this. Do you think she might be behind it all?"

Ezra considered this idea. "I just have a very hard time reconciling the idea of Olive being a killer."

"Don't underestimate bored old ladies," said Myrtle with a sniff.

Miles hid a smile.

Ezra said, "Then she killed Jasper, too? Out here in the park in the pre-dawn hours?"

Myrtle said, "Let me ask you a question about Jasper. Could you tell if he was already on his run? Or was he warming up or stretching? Because it's one thing chasing an athletic man down a path and killing him with a blunt object and quite another to surprise one who was innocently doing some stretches before jogging."

"Oh, he was definitely just warming up. He was collapsed next to a bench that he'd obviously been using to help him stretch."

Myrtle nodded. "Then anyone of any physical ability could have killed him. I'm assuming there was something Jasper knew that the killer didn't want to have leaked out. And there was something else I wanted to ask you about, too. I understand that Marshall and Lucinda don't have the best of relationships."

Ezra's face darkened a little. "She has to put up with a lot from him. I've told her that she should just leave him, but she's been reluctant to do that. She cares a lot for him."

"Is Marshall jealous about your relationship with Lucinda?"

"Probably. But you know Lucinda and I are just friends."

Myrtle said, "Of course. But that doesn't mean he's not jealous over the fact that you and Lucinda get along better than he and Lucinda do."

Ezra sighed. "I guess so. It seems kind of silly and pointless to me. I'll have to ask Lucinda what her take on it is."

Ezra gave a shiver, despite the heat outside. Miles said, "Myrtle, perhaps we should let Ezra go back home. He looks as if he could use a break."

"Good idea. Ezra, we'll check in with you later on. Maybe pour yourself a strong coffee."

"Perhaps a spiked coffee," suggested Miles helpfully.

Myrtle climbed back into Miles's car as Ezra drove away. "Uh-oh. Red is coming back over," said Myrtle. "Step on it, Miles!"

Miles, never one to step on it, became extremely flustered. In the process of being flustered, he managed to step on the accelerator while the car was still in park. The Volvo's engine revved as if Miles were getting ready to street race. In the side mirror, Myrtle saw Red raise his eyebrows before he tapped on Myrtle's passenger window.

Myrtle gritted her teeth and put the window down.

Red said, "Everything okay, Miles?"

Miles blushed. "Yes. Just a little trouble with the car's order of operations."

Red nodded and then shifted his attention over to his mother. "You're heading back home, right? You're not going to be nosy and end up getting into trouble again?"

Myrtle gave a sniff. "As a matter of fact, I'm not going home. Miles and I are going to go to breakfast out."

Red looked concerned at this declaration. "I thought your check wasn't coming in for a while yet."

"I believe I can afford eggs and bacon," said Myrtle coldly.

Red dug in his pocket. "Just in case, here's a little spare cash. Just to make sure to tide you over."

Myrtle took it reluctantly. "Thank you," she said, her teeth gritted again.

"All right. Just be sure to stay out of trouble, like I just said."

Red gave the hood of Miles's car a friendly knock and Miles backed up and slowly took off out of the park.

"I'm always surprised when you take Red up on his offers to pay for things," said Miles. "It doesn't seem to fit in with your personal Declaration of Independence."

"If you knew how many times teenage Red would run to the grocery store for me and never give me my change, you'd understand. It's a matter of remuneration."

"I see. So are we really going to breakfast, or are you just going to pocket the money and use it for other purposes?" asked Miles.

"That depends on how much he gave me this time. Sometimes his spare change is quite a good amount of money. Sometimes it's not. It has to do with when he grocery shops and when Elaine does laundry."

Miles looked so perplexed at this explanation that Myrtle continued, "Red will go to the grocery store and absentmindedly stick the change in his pocket. Elaine has a policy that she gets to keep whatever money hasn't been emptied from Red's pockets when she does the laundry."

"Ah."

Myrtle carefully counted up the money Red had given her. She beamed. "Nearly thirty dollars. So we'll have breakfast and then later on this week I'll drop by the thrift store. If this heatwave continues, I should invest in another short-sleeved blouse."

It was six o'clock in the morning and the diner's staff was just opening up for the day. The man who unlocked the doors gave them a bob of his head and told them to sit wherever they'd like.

They automatically headed over to the same booth they were sitting at last time. Miles said glumly, "I'm feeling very predictable all of a sudden. We were just here."

Myrtle studied the menu, a frown between her eyebrows.

"I already know what you're going to order," said Miles. "You know there's no need to look at the menu."

"Maybe there are some specials. There could be limited-time-only offers that I'll want to take advantage of."

They both read through the menu carefully. There apparently weren't any such offers.

Myrtle shrugged. "Then I suppose I'll just get my usual for breakfast."

"The lumberjack breakfast," recited Miles.

"How sassy of you, Miles! I'm not that predictable."

"Of course you are. And so am I. Go ahead and tell me what I'm going to order."

Myrtle tilted her head to one side, considering this. "Well, the oatmeal was a disaster last time. I suppose you might be eyeing the spinach and feta egg-white omelet. Another example of your misguided attempts to eat healthy at a diner."

The waitress came over and took their orders. She looked as if she already knew them, too. She didn't even bother to write them down.

The door opened and Myrtle stiffened. "Oh, no. It's Olive Fuller."