Sure enough, Myrtle just had time to grab her purse and her cane and Red was at her door with his police cruiser running in her driveway.

"That was fast," she said.

Red answered dryly, "I was ready to get out of the house."

"What made poor Jack morph from a charming preschooler?"

Red said, "You know, Mama, there's really not very good cause and effect with that age group. It all seemed to start when he wanted to eat the crayons he was coloring with and I took them away from him."

"Seems rather illogical," said Myrtle with a frown. "But Jack is brilliant. Perhaps he was trying to indicate that he was hungry."

"He'd just had a snack," said Red. He glanced her way, "What are you picking up at the store?"

"I'm making a snack for the chess tournament tomorrow," said Myrtle in a complacent tone.

Red looked grim. "A snack? What—like party mix or something?"

"What is behind Miles and your obsession with party mix?"

Red chuckled. "So he suggested you make that too." He paused and then said persuasively, "It's because it's easy and tasty, Mama. Just cereal, nuts, and chocolate candy. It'll be a big hit at the tournament."

"Well, we'll never know because that's not what I'm making. I'm making a cookie pizza."

Red muttered, "That sounds ambitious."

Myrtle pressed her lips together in irritation. Then the mention of sweets made her think of something completely different, but related. "Isn't it odd that Dinah doesn't like sweets? I don't think I've run into many people who feel that way."

Red grunted noncommittally and pulled into the grocery store parking lot.

"Not many people actually know that Dinah doesn't like sweets. I've spoken to her about it."

"Of course you have." Red sighed.

"Are you absolutely positive that Dinah wasn't the target of the poisoned pie? Instead of Luther?" pushed Myrtle.

Red nodded. "Mama, Dinah doesn't have anybody at all who'd want her dead. Maybe her husband would have wanted to get her out of the way, but if so, he wouldn't have eaten the pie. Dinah Cobb doesn't seem to have an enemy in this world."

Red parked the car and started getting out to give Myrtle a hand out of the cruiser. She brushed him off and stood up. Then she scowled as he proceeded to escort her to the store.

"Thanks for the drive," she said pointedly. "Elaine said she could pick me up after I'm done shopping."

Red shook his head. "I'm in no hurry to return back home. Besides, I have a couple of things I need to pick up, myself."

"You have two murders to solve," reminded Myrtle.

"Yes. But I have to eat and sleep still. I am human."

Myrtle sniffed as if that fact was decidedly in question.

Red got a large cart, which made Myrtle sigh. She liked the smaller carts that she could maneuver around the aisles easier. Then he spent a long time in front of barbeque sauces.

"Maybe we should split up," said Myrtle. "It'll go faster that way."

Red snorted. "I did mention I'm not in a hurry to get home. It will probably take Jack about thirty minutes to settle himself down."

"Jack is clearly just over-tired," said Myrtle defensively. "Maybe you should go back and read him a story while poor Elaine cooks dinner."

Red looked a little guilty. "Maybe that's what I should do. But the fact of the matter is, I haven't had a whole lot of sleep since this investigation started. I'm not really at my best right now."

Myrtle decided that spending time with a Red that was not at his best was not exactly on her agenda. She grabbed one of the red baskets that the Piggly Wiggly grocery store had thoughtfully left at the end of various aisles. "I'll be back in a few."

Myrtle picked up a few things for her cookie pizza and was heading back to deposit them in Red's cart when she spotted Dinah Cobb picking up paper products in another aisle. "Dinah?" she called out.

Dinah turned and gave her a smile. "Miss Myrtle! How are you doing?" She frowned at the red basket Myrtle held. "Do you want to set that down in my cart? It looks sort of heavy."

"Oh, it's fine, thank you. I was just thinking about you, Dinah."

"Were you?" she asked. "That's sweet of you."

Myrtle realized she was going to be both very nosy and also fairly upsetting. She made sure her innocuous-old-lady demeanor was firmly in place. "I've just been worried about you. Your lack of sleep for one thing."

Dinah made a face. "That hasn't been much fun, I'll admit. Of course, you know a lot about that particular subject."

"Yes, but I don't seem to need as much sleep, so it's not as great of an impact. I was wondering if one of the reasons you can't sleep is because your subconscious is on alert." Myrtle peered at her with concern and glanced around to make sure Red was still preoccupied by the barbeque sauces and not heading in their direction.

"On alert?" repeated Dinah with concern. "You mean, I think I'm in danger? Or am in danger?"

Myrtle said slowly, "It's just that I was thinking it through. You don't like sweets but you mentioned the fact that no one really knows that except people who are very close to you. It seems to be that you might have been the target instead of Luther."

There was a crashing sound on the next aisle over that might have been canned goods hitting the floor. Myrtle winced. This conversation was going to be radically curtailed if Red happened over.

Dinah said, "Me? But I did ask Red that. He said it didn't appear that I gave anyone a motive." Her brow furrowed.

Myrtle gave her a reassuring smile. "I can't imagine anyone wanting to, Dinah. I'm just saying if you're not in the habit of locking your doors and keeping your windows shut, you might want to change your ways until Red finds who's responsible."

Dinah now looked extremely unsettled.

Red, as expected, came swiftly around the corner with his cart full of various sauces and mustards. Although he looked annoyed at Myrtle's conversation with Dinah, he didn't look as irritated as he should have been if he'd overheard Myrtle's exchange with her.

"Hi, Dinah," he said with a smile.

"Red," she said, nodding her head at him.

"Mama, I've gotten a call and need to head over to the station. Are you done shopping? I can drop you off by the house if you are."

Myrtle saw a way of both getting away from Red and continuing her talk with Dinah. "Not quite, no. And I'm trying to mentally recall some of the ingredients. It may take a little time. I'll just call Elaine when I'm done."

Red was in too much of a hurry to argue. "Okay. I'll just buy the stuff in my cart then. See you soon, Mama."

Dinah watched as Red bolted off for the checkout counter. "He must be so busy right now."

Myrtle shrugged. "I suppose so. Considering all the work he's doing, perhaps he'll figure out who the perpetrator is for these awful crimes." Changing tack swiftly, she said, "Back to you, though, Dinah. I was thinking that one way you might be able to stay distracted is by seeing someone new."

Dinah flushed a bit and looked away. But to Myrtle's eagle eyes, it didn't seem that Dinah was simply being shy or coy. It looked more like Dinah was actually already engaged in a relationship since she turned her face away so that Myrtle couldn't study it. "We'll see," Dinah said noncommittally. Then Dinah managed a rapid change of subject herself. "Isn't it terrible about Jasper? I keep thinking about that. He was alone, in the dark. He thought he was safe—but he wasn't." She looked morosely at the doors across the store. "And now it's even dark here. It's going to make me feel weird in the parking lot." She paused. "Myrtle, you're a friend of Ezra's aren't you?"

"Absolutely," said Myrtle stoutly.

"He was the one who found Jasper's body, wasn't he?"

"He did. And he called the police right away," said Myrtle. "Which was the responsible thing to do."

"It's sort of a coincidence, isn't it?" Dinah quickly lifted up a hand in defense. "Sorry, I know he's your friend. It's just—well, he has that poisonous plant in his greenhouse. And then he was the first one on the scene after Jasper is killed."

Myrtle said crisply, "Well, he wasn't the first one on the scene. That honor went to whoever murdered Jasper. Ezra was simply there to exercise. Besides, he didn't even know Jasper."

Dinah's eyebrows flew up. "But he did know Jasper. They were in high school together."

"They were in high school at the same time, yes. But that doesn't mean that they knew each other. Ezra hung out with a different crowd. I know because I taught him."

Dinah opened her mouth to argue but then stopped herself, probably not wanting to argue with an octogenarian in the middle of the Piggly Wiggly. Instead she said, "Goodness, I should be finishing up with these groceries and heading back. So good talking with you, Miss Myrtle."

Myrtle grunted a response. She was mulling over what Dinah had said. She'd had such conviction in her voice. She absently finished up her shopping, checked out her groceries, and then hesitated. She didn't like the doubt that Dinah had brought up in her mind. Best to just walk over to Ezra's place and ask him about it. He lived in easy walking distance of the store.

When she reached Ezra's house, she set down the bag of groceries and knocked firmly at the front door. He opened the door with a smile. "Miss Myrtle!"

Myrtle narrowed her eyes. "Ezra, did you know Jasper?"

Ezra swallowed and then stammered, "Know Jasper?"

"That's right. You said you didn't, but I just spoke with someone who had a different point of view." Myrtle's face was indignant.

Ezra slumped against the doorframe. "I didn't mean to lie to you. But I felt like a little misdirection might be in order. I used to be friends with Jasper in high school. I thought it was starting to look like I was too close to two murders."

"You two seem like very unlikely friends, Ezra. As I recall, Jasper was an athlete. You were always on the math team and in the horticulture club."

"Our paths ended up crossing because my dad wanted me to have some sort of involvement with high school sports. It didn't matter that I had absolutely no interest in it. He thought that was the only way for me to be a more-rounded person. I became the football manager."

"Football manager? I thought that was the coach's job," said Myrtle.

"It's a fancy name for a person who sets out the water coolers and the first aid station, collects dirty uniforms for the laundry—that kind of thing." Ezra shrugged. He looked at her groceries. "Would you like to come inside?"

Myrtle shook her head. "I don't have time to visit. But I do want to know, before I leave, what else you might be holding back. Do you know anything that might shed a little light on these two crimes?"

Ezra shifted uncomfortably. "I do know that Marshall and Luther had a terrible argument not long before Luther was murdered. Apparently, Marshall had witnessed Luther being hateful to Dinah and it made Marshall snap." He paused. "I just happened to be walking past Luther's and saw it when it happened. It reminded me what a hothead Marshall can be."

Myrtle frowned. This sounded remarkably like the excuse Jasper had used for visiting Luther the morning he found his body. But this time, the excuse rang true.

"Why didn't you bring this up earlier? It could prove to be an important lead. Maybe Marshall is the one behind these deaths."

Ezra sighed. "I didn't want to upset Lucinda. She's still crazily in love with Marshall and she'd be worried sick if she thought he might end up going to jail for murder. And an argument doesn't really mean anything—it's not actual evidence."

Myrtle said sternly, "It may not be evidence, but it can certainly point to a possible motive for murder. Maybe they ended up arguing again later and it got out of hand. You need to go to Red with this."

Ezra winced and Myrtle said, "I will, if you won't."

"Okay—I'll give him a call."

"Do that," said Myrtle. "Now I've got to head out and put these groceries away."

"You're walking back home?"

Myrtle shrugged. "I thought I'd have more stuff and I'd need to call Elaine, but I really don't seem to have many groceries."

Ezra got out his car keys.