Myrtle and Elaine gaped at her. Jack stopped driving his truck momentarily.

Puddin pointed a shaking hand toward the back of the house. "That witch-cat is in there!"

"Pasha is? The poor baby. She must be wondering what that awful screaming was all about." Myrtle marched into her bedroom and carefully picked up Pasha, bringing her back into the living room. "You've scared her to death, Puddin."

"She scared me to death! I was mindin' my own bizness and she came outta nowhere!" Puddin said huffily.

"That's completely impossible," said Myrtle. "Nothing can just materialize. It's outside the laws of physics." She stroked Pasha soothingly.

Puddin stomped toward the bedroom again, grumbling all the way. Jack recommenced with his trucks and the requisite truck sounds that accompanied them.

Elaine said wryly, "And I thought things were exciting at my house."

Myrtle snorted. "This is Puddin-generated drama. It always seems part of the Puddin package, one way or another."

Elaine said slowly, "She actually seems to be cleaning, though. And Dusty looked to be trimming your bushes outside. I guess the beach trip is very motivating."

"I suppose," said Myrtle with a shrug.

Elaine looked wistful. "A beach trip would be a lot of fun right now."

Myrtle said, "Would it? It's so hot outside and there's never a guarantee of any sort of breeze coming off the water. It sounds like it could be unbearable."

"You're probably right. I guess I'm just looking for an escape of any kind."

Myrtle frowned. "Is everything okay? Is Red driving you up the wall? Because just say the word and I'll speak with him."

Elaine hid a smile. She knew there was nothing Myrtle would like better than an excuse to read Red the riot act. "Red's just fine. I haven't seen that much of him lately, of course."

"So he's neglecting you."

"No, no. He's just working, that's all. He's trying to solve the case before the state police do." Elaine paused. "Or before you do, I suppose."

Myrtle preened. "I do seem to have something of a knack for unveiling the perpetrators of these crimes. So, if it's not Red, who is it?"

"It's no one. It's really just me. I need a little bit of a break when I'm not doing things with Jack. You know how I always try to keep my brain stimulated."

Myrtle nodded. Indeed, she did. The problem was Elaine's complete ineptitude at brain stimulation, despite her best efforts. Still, Myrtle admired the way she kept trying to find creative ways to fill her time and do something meaningful. When Myrtle was bored, she usually stirred up trouble. Elaine, on the other hand, tried to make something beautiful or learn something. The only problem is that it always went very, very wrong.

"Is chess not working out then?" asked Myrtle delicately. She didn't want to put herself in the position of trying to help Elaine with a hobby. That would set the stage for all sorts of future trouble.

Elaine sighed. "I'm not sure. Miles seems to be trying everything not to win our chess games when I'm playing with him. You know what a gentleman he always is."

Myrtle did. He apparently was so much of a gentleman that he didn't want to upset Elaine by winning a chess game in six moves, even if it meant playing a longer game with her.

Elaine continued, "I can see what he's doing, though. I'm starting to come to the conclusion that maybe I'm just not very good at chess."

Myrtle blinked at her. This was the first time that Elaine seemed to have acknowledged defeat. "I'm sure that's not the case," said Myrtle slowly. It was the case, of course, but Elaine seemed so discouraged. "How about if you play a game with someone else?"

"You?" Elaine brightened.

"Oh no . . . you wouldn't want to play a game with me. We've already established that I don't even know the names of all the pieces. What you need to do is play the game on your phone. Set the level to beginner and enjoy the game," said Myrtle.

"I've been playing on the computer, but I haven't been doing too well. Because, you know, it's a computer. Those beat chess masters, don't they?"

"Only if you set the difficulty level too high. The computer is programmed differently for different abilities." At least, this was how Myrtle supposed it all worked.

Elaine smiled. "I bet I don't have the difficulty level set low enough. Maybe I can tweak it and actually win some games and build my confidence. That sounds so much better than making my poor chess partners suffer by trying to let me win. I'm going to give it a go when I get back home. Thanks, Myrtle."

"Happy to help, dear. But it isn't Jack's naptime, is it? How about if you leave him over here to play for a little while and try out the easier computer chess at home so you won't be bothered?"

Elaine thought this was a splendid idea so she hurried off home and Myrtle and Jack played with trucks as Pasha watched them with interest. Puddin hurriedly finished up her cleaning.

Myrtle scrounged up some cash to pay her.

Pudding gave her a shrewd look. "The house could use some spring cleanin'."

Myrtle narrowed her eyes. "Could it? Or is that just your wallet talking?"

Puddin continued, "There's services that ain't covered by regular cleanin'."

"Or, as it happens, sporadic cleaning."

Puddin frowned. "Wish you'd speak English. Hate it when you start throwin' German words in there."

Myrtle took in a deep breath. "What types of things do you think need to be addressed with this spring cleaning?"

Puddin was delighted to elaborate. "Dustin' light fixtures, wipin' down appliances, vacuumin' curtains, scrubbin' the bathtub. Stuff like that."

Myrtle considered this. "Would it be the new improved Puddin doing this cleaning? Or the usual Puddin?"

Puddin gave her a scornful look. "The Puddin you see right now."

"And how much would this extraordinary service run me?"

Puddin had to think about this for a moment. "Guess it would be an hourly rate."

"Oh no. No, we're not doing an hourly rate because that would reward you for being poky. We'll do a flat fee."

Puddin squished her face up as she carefully thought this through. "Deal."

"No, it's not a deal because you haven't come up with the flat fee yet. I'm an old woman and I'm on social security and a pension. I have to know how much things cost before I pay for them." Plus, Red would try and take over her banking if she mismanaged it. Which she never did.

This bartering process could have lasted the rest of the day but fortunately for them both, Dusty stomped through the front door at that point, having finished with the yard work.

Puddin shrieked at him. "Dusty! Shoes!"

Dusty obediently removed the offending shoes so that Puddin didn't have to pull out the vacuum once again. Then Puddin trotted over to confer with Dusty in private about the cost of a special spring cleaning for Myrtle. He immediately came up with an acceptable flat fee amount.

Puddin pulled a small planning calendar out of her purse and poised a pen over it. "When would you like to schedule?" she said in a haughty tone.

Myrtle's mind was so blown by the idea of Puddin actually adhering to a schedule that she had to pause for a moment to collect her thoughts. "Tomorrow? Or the day after?"

Puddin studied her calendar with a focused look on her face. "Reckon I can do tomorrow afternoon. See ya then." And she and Dusty left the house and took off in Dusty's truck.

Myrtle and Jack then helped themselves to a snack in the kitchen. Myrtle kept some special snacks on hand for Jack's visits, which they both looked forward to. They had cheese crackers and graham crackers with peanut butter on them. Then they worked on a puzzle that Myrtle pulled out of the cabinet. It wasn't really a puzzle for small children, but Jack was able to do it . . . further proof in Myrtle's mind of Jack's brilliance.

It was sometime later when the doorbell rang. Elaine was on the front step, looking very happy.

"The chess went well?" Myrtle guessed.

"It did! Well, I still didn't win, but the computer didn't immediately beat me, which I thought showed great improvement. I did set it on the novice level, but you have to start somewhere, don't you?"

Myrtle nodded in agreement. And was thinking that Miles would need to think up an excellent reward for her since he wouldn't have to play Elaine anymore.

"How have things been here?" Elaine asked.

"He's been a little angel, as always. And he's helping me with a 100-piece puzzle."

Elaine's eyes grew wide. "Helping you? Are you guiding his hand or something?"

"Not a bit. Like I told you, Jack is a genius. He has excellent spatial awareness."

Jack grinned at Elaine and at Myrtle.

"And he's adorable, too," said Myrtle, giving her grandson a hug.

Elaine said, "I'll have to look into getting him some puzzles for home. Maybe they can keep him busy while I practice chess. Thanks, Myrtle."

As Elaine left, Myrtle patted herself on the back for a job well-done. She'd been very helpful today. It made her consider other ways she could be helpful.

It was precisely then that the phone rang.

It was quite a surprise to hear Marshall Sanders on the phone.

"Marshall? How are you?"

Marshall said, "Doing well, thanks, and hope you are. I had a quick question for you. I have a student in one of my classes who's very interested in journalism. She's on the school paper staff and was very interested in maybe helping out at the Bugle. But Dakota said that the editor wasn't too keen on the idea of having an intern. And, unfortunately, the staff member who's the advisor for the student newspaper this year isn't all that invested."

Myrtle pressed her lips together tightly at the thought of the Bugle not welcoming an intern. She had a feeling that Sloan wasn't keen because he didn't want anyone shadowing him and witnessing his little lunch and late-afternoon visits to the nearby bar. "That's a pity."

Marshall continued, "Since I'd just seen you at the school, you came right to mind. Of course, you were the newspaper advisor, as we'd recently talked about."

"I certainly was. And now, of course, I'm a correspondent at the Bugle. And I'd be happy to have an intern. I'm pursuing a big story right now, as a matter of fact."

Pasha stopped grooming herself to watch Myrtle with big eyes.

"That sounds perfect," said Marshall. "We'll need to do a quick background check on you and you'll need to fill out some paperwork for the school. The newspaper adviser should be the one doing this, of course, but some things you gotta do yourself to get them done. Dakota is in softball practice right now, but do you think you could run by the school now? By the time I give you the paperwork and get your license, she'll probably be finishing up and you can meet her."

"I'll be over there in just a few minutes."

Which meant that Myrtle called up the long-suffering Miles and cajoled him into driving her over to the high school.

"Are you sure that you want an intern?" asked Miles in a doubtful tone. "It sounds rather intrusive. You spend a good deal of time doing crosswords and watching soap operas and things. Won't you feel pressured to be focused on articles and investigating if you have someone shadowing you?"

"Not a bit. Dakota will be in school most of the time between classes and softball practice. When she's free, she can come by and help me write my article."

Miles said, "You won't be taking her around to speak with suspects?"

"Certainly not! I can't expose a high school student to that type of danger. That would be irresponsible of me. No, my plan is to have her help with the article, perhaps help find photos, and then come up with content for the paper's social media."

Miles looked impressed. "Actually, helping with the paper's social media accounts sounds like a great idea."

"I do some of it for the paper, of course, and Elaine does a few other things. Dakota can really help us have a presence."

"Don't you need to run this by Sloan?" asked Miles slowly.

Myrtle waved a hand airily. "Sloan is always happy to do whatever I ask him."

"I wouldn't say it makes him happy," murmured Miles.

"At any rate, what could he possibly have to complain about? Free help? Pfft."

Miles drove carefully into the high school parking lot and into a spot and they walked into the building.

Myrtle took a deep breath. "Ahh. High school. This smell really takes me back."

Miles looked uncomfortable. "It takes me back, too. To a very unhappy time."

"That's because you didn't spend most of your adult years at a high school. For me, I have happy memories. I loved my kids and teaching them. There were a lot of good times."

Miles looked as if he was having trouble reciprocating that sentiment.

Myrtle went to the office and they signed in, getting nametags to wear. The staff called Marshall up to the office and he led them back to his classroom.

"I've got everything set up for you, Miss Myrtle. If you could give me your driver's license. I'm guessing there are not going to be many bad things on your background check." He gave her a teasing smile.

"Nor on my driving record. Considering the fact that I only drive once every couple of months or so." Myrtle sat down in a desk and started filling out the paperwork that Marshall had pulled out for her. "By the way, have you heard the terrible news?"

Marshall looked solemn. "About Jasper Hodges? I'm afraid so. News travels fast around here."

Myrtle said sweetly, "I figured you would have since Ezra would have told Lucinda."

Marshall now looked irritated but was clearly trying to tamp it down. "Yes, I suppose so. I was at home with Lucinda when she got the phone call. I'd just woken up, so I didn't get all the details."

Myrtle said, "I feel horrible for Jasper. He seemed to be such a nice man. And an asset to the community."

"Are people thinking that Jasper was killed as an act of revenge? Like he was the one who murdered Luther and then someone murdered him in return?"

Myrtle thought this was extremely unlikely. For one thing, no one felt passionately enough about Luther to want to exact revenge for his death. But it played into her purposes to let Marshall believe that was a possibility. "Perhaps."

Marshall said slowly, "Well, that's very tough for me to wrap my head around. Jasper was such a great guy." He thought for a moment and then said slowly, "I could maybe see where Jasper killed himself, though. As if he couldn't believe he'd taken a life and decided to take his own in response."

Marshall had apparently not gotten the memo that this was not a suicide. Miles quirked an eyebrow at Myrtle. She said again, "Perhaps."

"It sounds like you knew Jasper well," said Miles.

Marshall nodded. "He was a friend of mine." At this, Marshall started choking up and Myrtle looked on with great concern until he was able to get control of himself again. "He was just an all-around good guy," he continued gruffly. "Good father, good friend. He was helpful at the school—he'd volunteer for stuff here a lot. Maybe he just temporarily lost his mind when he killed Luther."

Myrtle tilted her head to one side questioningly and Marshall continued, "Jasper loved his son more than anything. It really upset him to have Luther threaten to expose Jasper's mistake publicly. He was so proud of Archie. Maybe Jasper was just caught up in the moment and trying to protect his son. Luther wouldn't listen, of course. And Jasper lashed out at him in an out-of-control moment."

Miles cleared his throat. "But it seemed that Jasper was the one who discovered Luther's body . . . alongside Luther's wife."

Marshall shrugged. "Maybe that was just a cover. Jasper wouldn't have wanted to go to jail. Maybe he wanted to come by the house and make it seem like he wanted to talk to Luther when he actually knew he was already dead."

Myrtle found this the most unbelievable explanation of all. If Jasper had been the killer, he wouldn't have known when Luther would eat the poisoned pie—if he would even eat it at all. But she nodded as if it were perfectly sound reasoning.

"But if Jasper didn't kill himself?" asked Myrtle.

Marshall said, "Like I said, maybe Luther's family killed Jasper for revenge. Not Dinah, of course—she would never do something like that. But it could have been Luther's brother or uncle or other family. Or maybe there's something we just don't know that has nothing to do with Luther at all. Maybe Ezra, since he was at the park, saw an opportunity to get rid of Jasper."

Myrtle raised her eyebrows. "Why would Ezra do that?"

"Who knows? Like I said, it could be a motive that no one even knows about. Then Ezra reported finding a body to seem innocent to the cops. Just like we were saying with Jasper."

Marshall frowned and added, "You know, there is something I noticed lately. I didn't really think much about it at the time, but Jasper had been acting a little . . . off lately."

"Off?" asked Myrtle.

"Yeah. Like I said, I didn't really think much about it because I figured it must have something to do with his divorce or maybe problems with Archie. But with Jasper being gone, I have to wonder if maybe it was something else."

"Something like what?" Myrtle arched her eyebrows.

"Oh, I don't know." Marshall shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I'm probably just dreaming the whole thing. But what if Jasper did have something to do with Luther's death and has been feeling bad about it? That sort of goes back to supporting the idea that Jasper harmed himself because he felt guilty about killing Luther. Which, like I said, could have been totally accidental."

Myrtle's head was starting to hurt just a tiny bit. "I suppose that's possible." Although it wasn't. Trying to steer the conversation back to less-convoluted territory, Myrtle asked, "How is dear Lucinda handling all this? It's very unsettling having all of these terrible things happening in Bradley, isn't it?"

Marshall sighed. "You've got me, Miss Myrtle. Sometimes it's hard to know exactly what's going on in that head of hers." His face darkened a bit. Then he said, "Well, how about if we go ahead and introduce you to Dakota? I'm sure she's looking forward to any insight you can give her about the journalism business."

"The background check won't have gone through yet, though."

Marshall chuckled. "If your background check doesn't come through clean, I'll be a monkey's uncle, Miss M. As far as I'm concerned, it's just a matter of red tape."

Marshall left the classroom to go locate Dakota. Myrtle said thoughtfully, "That was an excellent demonstration of how rumors spread in Bradley."