Miles said, "You mean the way that Marshall brought up several different scenarios about Jasper's death?"

"Precisely. He'll have half the town thinking that Jasper killed himself because he was guilty. He'll have the other half thinking that Ezra did it."

"Or a vengeful family member of Luther's," said Miles.

"Of which none likely exist. Luther's brother left town just as soon as he could do so."

They stopped talking as Marshall brought in a thin, eager-looking girl with braces and thick glasses which she absentmindedly shoved up her nose.

Marshall said, "Mrs. Clover, meet Dakota. Dakota, this is Mrs. Clover."

Myrtle put out her hand and Dakota shyly shook it.

Marshall said, "As I mentioned to you, Dakota, Mrs. Clover has a lot of experience both as a teacher who was in charge of the school newspaper, and as a current reporter for the Bradley Bugle."

Myrtle beamed at Dakota. "Experience that I'm happy to pass along. I'm currently doing an investigative series for the paper. Would you like to head along to the newspaper office with me? We can meet the editor in person."

Dakota's eyes widened behind the thick glasses. "Sure! If you've got time, I mean."

"Time is one thing I often seem to have an abundance of." Myrtle paused. "You should call your mom, though, and let her know where we're going and make sure it's okay."

Miles hid a smile. Once a teacher, always a teacher. Dakota quickly got her phone out and called her mother. Myrtle asked for the phone at one point and spent the next five minutes regaling her mom on her illustrious days in journalism. Apparently, Dakota's mom was perfectly satisfied with the concept of sending her daughter out on some sort of expedition with the octogenarian reporter and so they set out on their way.

"Mr. Bradford is driving us," explained Myrtle as they headed to the Volvo.

Dakota shoved up her glasses again and asked a bit breathlessly. "You mean you have a chauffeur?"

"It certainly feels that way at times," murmured Miles.

"He's a friend of mine who helps me with my investigating. And still has a car, which is very useful."

Miles drove them over to the newspaper office and parked out front. They hopped out of the car and Myrtle said, "The newspaper isn't the most cheerful of places, I'm afraid. Sloan also doesn't seem to have the capability of organizing things, as you'll see. But it's a very interesting spot. When you go into the archives, there are reams of local history."

Dakota said in a hesitant voice, "I did try to get an internship here. But Mr. Jones said that there weren't any openings."

Myrtle pressed her lips together and then said, "Perhaps we can work something out later. Leave it to me."

Myrtle flung open the door to the newspaper office, causing a bright ray of light (and quite a bit of unseasonable heat and humidity) to enter the dimly-lit newsroom. As her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she could hear the squeaky wheels of Sloan's wheeled chair as it protested as he whirled around.

"Miss Myrtle," he gasped.

Myrtle led Dakota and Miles into the room. "Hi there, Sloan," she said coolly. "I wanted to introduce you to my new intern."

Sloan blushed all the way to where his receding hairline started. "Ah. Yes." He thrust out a hand to the high school girl. "Pleasure to meet you."

Myrtle quirked a brow. "I understand from the school that the paper couldn't accommodate an intern right now. Such a pity, since it's so vital that young people get access to offices and the chance to experience a line of work so they'll know it will suit them." She glanced over to Sloan's laptop computer screen, which was displaying a computer game. "Apparently, you don't have the time?"

Sloan reddened even more and spread out his hands in appeal. "Honestly, I just don't think I'm suited to having an intern. No disrespect intended, Dakota."

Dakota gave him a smile in return, which Myrtle thought was quite generous under the circumstances.

"Well, my plan is to allow Dakota to shadow me a little as I go about collecting information for my next article."

"The next article?" asked Sloan in a faint voice.

"That's right. The follow-up piece to the article on Luther's demise. This one will focus on Jasper Hodges."

Sloan hurriedly said, "Oh, right. Jasper."

"I thought I might also introduce Dakota to the newspaper's social media presence and have her help with content creation."

Sloan was now looking somewhat more interested than he had previously.

Myrtle finished, "And then, because I do feel she needs exposure to a newsroom, I will help direct Dakota with organizing the newsroom." She looked around her with a miffed expression. "Because it sorely needs it."

Sloan's large forehead wrinkled. "Dakota will be here in the newsroom with me?"

"Not by herself. Because you haven't gone through a background check," said Myrtle, giving him a severe look as if she expected a background check to dredge up all sorts of unsavory information.

Sloan relaxed a bit. "I see. Well, that all sounds like a very good overview." He hesitated. "I suppose I could give Dakota some information about an editor and newspaper publisher's role in the business."

"I suppose you could," said Myrtle, still rather snippily.

Sloan looked vastly relieved when the door to the newsroom opened again and a distraction was provided.

This particular distraction interested Myrtle, too. Dinah Cobb was walking into the newsroom.

Dinah blinked to adjust her eyes to the light and then glanced around her. "Well, hi there, friends," she said brightly.

Luther's widow was clutching a couple of papers and gave them all a smile. Myrtle could tell she looked stressed, however. She wasn't quite the merry widow that others might have expected, since she and Luther apparently had something of a mercurial relationship.

Sloan stood up courteously and said, "I believe you've got some advertising for me?"

"That's right," said Dinah. She gave an almost-apologetic shrug. "I'm trying to stay busy, I think." She looked at Myrtle and Miles. "It's an ad for a charity event that the free clinic is hosting to raise funds."

Sloan's phone rang and he excused himself and walked over to the far end of the newsroom to take it.

Myrtle quickly introduced Dakota and then said to Dinah, "It sounds very sensible to stay busy right now."

Dinah sighed. "It seemed like the best thing to do. I've come to the realization that I'm going to need to sell the house."

"Too big?" asked Miles sympathetically. He and Myrtle had very small houses. Myrtle's was small for financial reasons, but Miles's was small because he disliked the feeling of rattling around in a house that was too big for him.

Dinah gave Miles a smile. Something about the smile made Myrtle wonder if she might be flirting with Miles a little, despite the significant age difference between them. But then, all the widows in Bradley seemed to find Miles irresistible. It was just that Dinah was so recently widowed.

Dinah said, "I think it's too big, yes. But that's not the only reason. It's really bothering me being there with only my memories. And the kitchen used to be my happy place in the house, but now when I'm in there, I can only think about Luther and the terrible way he died. Then there's Jasper's death on top of everything. It makes me feel like this is never going to be wrapped up."

Myrtle was starting to be a bit concerned that Dinah might start crying. She briskly said, "I'm sure the perpetrator will be caught soon. But you're right about poor Jasper. It's a terrible thing." She paused. "I'm guessing Red's been by to speak with you about it all."

Dakota pushed her glasses up her nose and looked on with interest as Myrtle pivoted the conversation into more of an interview.

Dinah, however, didn't seem to realize Myrtle was doing anything other than being sympathetic toward her. "Yes, he has. It's his job, of course, trying to find out what happened to Luther and now to Jasper. But it's sort of unsettling to be on the receiving end of things. I don't suppose Red has shared any information with you, has he? I'm hoping someone else looks like a better suspect than I do right now. I'm sure it's not looking good, though."

"What makes you think that?" asked Myrtle.

"Oh, because the spouse is always the main suspect. At least, that's the way it is on police dramas."

Myrtle said, "Red, sadly, doesn't share a lot of information with me. Were you able to offer him an alibi at all for Jasper's death?"

Dinah shook her head sadly. "Not a bit. I'm in the house alone now, of course, like I was just mentioning. I was trying to sleep and doing a terrible job at it. I'm wishing now that I had just gotten up, dressed, and taken a walk. Then, at least, there might have been some folks commuting to work who would have seen me out. Plus, early morning is really the only good time to do any sort of exercising because it's been so terribly hot." She shrugged helplessly. "Instead, I just tossed and turned and didn't end up getting any extra sleep."

"Have you always had sleep problems?" asked Miles. He blushed a little as if he'd asked something too personal. "It's just that Myrtle and I struggle with sleeping. In our separate homes, of course."

Dinah turned a big smile on him again which confirmed to Myrtle that she was indeed flirting with Miles. It made Myrtle wonder if this was something that was just usual for Dinah and how Luther had felt about that.

"I've always slept really well, actually. I used to just close my eyes and I'd fall asleep within about thirty seconds. Then I was completely unconscious of anything around me for at least eight hours."

Myrtle pressed her lips together, feeling rather annoyed that anyone would have such an experience. Then she said, "That sounds amazing."

Miles said wistfully, "I can't even imagine doing that. I don't think I slept well even when I was a baby."

Myrtle said, "But you're not sleeping like that now, Dinah?"

Dinah shook her head. "It's been a total nightmare. I lie in bed and it's like my mind is just spinning out of control."

Myrtle nodded. She was sadly very accustomed to that phenomenon.

Miles said, "Reading books before you try to sleep can help sometimes."

"It doesn't help me," said Myrtle. "It makes me even more awake than I already was. I'll finish the book, look at the clock, and realize that it's three o'clock in the morning."

Dinah gave her a wry look. "I'll have to jot down what you've been reading. It sounds like your books are a lot more exciting than mine are. Anyway, that's the falling asleep part of it. But then I'm also waking up in the middle of the night."

Myrtle and Miles nodded. "You're preaching to the choir," said Miles.

Dinah sighed. "I just don't ever seem to fall back asleep after I've woken up so late at night. What's more, I'll wake up thirsty or I'll want a small snack but I don't want to head down in the dark to the kitchen. Not after what happened there. So I just stay in my room."

"Have you talked to your doctor about it?" asked Myrtle.

Dinah made a face. "I did. She prescribed me a pill to take, but I don't like taking it. It does help me to sleep, but when I wake up I still feel like I'm dragging—like the pill hasn't really stopped working. I just hate that feeling. So I've been doing all the things I read about that are supposed to help. I don't use a computer before bed. I don't have alcohol in the evenings. I make sure I don't drink anything containing caffeine after two p.m. And I do breathing exercises. So far, nothing has helped."

Myrtle said, "I do feel it's best to get up and do something instead of lying there in bed."

"I like that idea," said Dinah. "I absolutely hate tossing and turning. I can never seem to get comfortable."

"When you get up, though, you must do something boring. Nothing stimulating. Don't read thrillers. Do laundry or maybe puzzles."

Miles said dryly, "Perhaps Myrtle isn't the best person to advise one on insomnia."

"Nonsense, Miles! I happen to be an expert on insomnia. I'm just at the stage of my life when I don't require as much sleep so I don't fight the insomnia any longer, that's all." Myrtle turned back to Dinah. "With any luck, you'll start to feel less stressed as time goes on."

Dinah nodded. "I hope so. Right now, I'm just trying to get used to living by myself. It's been decades since I have." She said crisply, "I've decided that it's good to be alone for a while. I'm not in a hurry to start seeing anyone, that's for sure. I'm starting to think I don't do a wonderful job picking men to be in relationships with." She flushed. "I hope you both don't think I'm out of line talking like this. But you both are so sensible and my mind has just been spinning with everything in it. Luther and I didn't have the happiest of marriages. I can't blame him for all of it, though—I was half of the partnership. Anyway, I've been reading Wanda's columns lately. You know how she personalizes them?"

They nodded.

"Well, she did one for me yesterday."

"In the paper?" Myrtle frowned. She'd read the newspaper from end to end and hadn't seen a single mention of Dinah in there.

Dinah shook her head. "Don't think I've lost my mind entirely, but I drove out to her house."

"That must have been an adventure," said Miles dryly.

"It's a unique place to live," answered Dinah diplomatically. "And her brother is . . . interesting."

"Oh, you got to see Crazy Dan, too. And you still didn't sleep last night? I find the experience of dealing with Dan to be completely exhausting," said Myrtle.

"I might have slept a touch better last night. Anyway, when I met with Wanda, she explained that the universe was sending me a sign. She initially hesitated when I asked her to give me relationship advice."

Miles smiled. "She would likely consider that out of her wheelhouse."

Wanda, as far as Myrtle and Miles knew, had never been married.

Myrtle asked, "What advice did Wanda give you?"

"She told me that I needed to recalibrate," said Dinah.

Myrtle quirked an eyebrow. "Wanda said that?"

Dinah grinned at her. "Well, no, not exactly. But that was the gist of what she was saying to me. She advised me to steer clear of dating for a year or more and just get accustomed to being by myself again for a while."

"Sound advice," noted Myrtle.

"I thought so. Especially since being on my own has been harder than I thought it would be. It's been such a long time since I was single. I really do need to sell the house. The only problem is that Luther and I had so much stuff. The idea of going through everything and deciding what to keep, give away, and toss seems like this insurmountable task."

Myrtle thought with satisfaction of her own sparsely-furnished small home.

Miles said, "I think there are services that can help with that sort of thing. I've seen them advertised in the paper. They help declutter and organize and so forth."

"I've thought about using them, too. Right now, though, I think I've decided to stay put for the time being. Get ahold of myself first and proceed from there," said Dinah.

Myrtle said, "That's probably wise. You're still dealing with a lot of stress right now. Perhaps Red will wrap things up soon and that will provide some closure for you. Have you given more thought to who might be responsible for all this?"

Dakota seemed to lean in a little to listen a bit better.

Dinah said ruefully, "That's probably the main reason I haven't been sleeping well. I keep mulling over in my head who might have disliked Luther enough to send him a poisoned pie." She sighed. "My mind somehow keeps coming back to Vivian. And I just hate that because I really like her and think my husband was very unkind and unfair to her."

"I hear you've been very generous to Vivian," said Myrtle.

Dinah blushed a little at the fact that she was now throwing her under the bus. "I've tried. Like I said, I've felt bad about the way Luther treated her. He fired her and Vivian was suddenly out of work and needing to care for her small child. But recently, I was talking to someone who came to the house to express their condolences—someone from Luther's office. He warned me that Vivian had been really furious with Luther for the way he'd treated her . . . that there had been a big scene when Luther fired her."

"Vivian didn't go quietly then," said Myrtle thoughtfully.

"Exactly. Luther's coworker said that he wouldn't be surprised if Vivian had been angry at both Luther and me, by extension." Dinah gave a little shake as if to rid herself of the unwelcome thought.

Dakota's eyes were wide behind the thick glasses and she looked rapt as if watching a drama play out on television. "But you were helping her!"

Dinah gave the teen a surprised look as if she'd forgotten she was there. "Yes, but sometimes you really can't make up for another person's wrong."

"At least you helped find her a job," said Miles. "That would have been the biggest cause of concern at that point."

"That's true," said Dinah. "I was really worried about her. She seemed so alone in the world—just Vivian and her son. A single mom who suddenly didn't have a source of income."

Myrtle asked, "Can you picture Vivian doing something like this?"

Dinah shook her head slowly. "Not really. That is, I'm kind of haunted by the thought that she could. I know she was angry. But I know the police think poisoning is sort of a woman's crime—a more passive way to kill someone. And it was rather methodical—someone had to research the berries online, procure them, buy a pie, insert the berries in the pie, and then deliver it. Vivian is nothing if not methodical. I just can't picture her doing something so awful, though."

Myrtle asked, "How many people do you think know that you're not a dessert person? Do you think it's reasonable that the perpetrator felt confident that you wouldn't be harmed by the pie?"

Dinah sighed. "Probably not very many people. Whenever I've gone to people's houses for lunch or dinner, it's always easy to just say their meal was so delicious and that I'm stuffed. That way I don't have to explain that I just don't have much of a sweet tooth. Everybody else seems to have one. The times I've told people I don't like desserts, they stare at me like I'm an alien or something." She glanced over at the clock and said, "I really should get going. Good to meet you, Dakota."