Pretty is as Pretty Dies (A Myrtle Clover Mystery) by Elizabeth Spann Craig Read Free Book Online Page A

squinted fearfully at the powder room door, as if
expecting to see Tippy Chambers at any moment.
    "You're sure about this?" Myrtle asked. Kitty nodded, brown
hair flopping on her head. "Did you tell the police about seeing
Benton, Kitty?"
    "No. I was just so shaken up by the whole thing. And the questions they asked me made me sure they thought I was a suspect. I
was so scared that I didn't remember to tell them." She leaned forward and grabbed Myrtle's hand with a tight grip. "Do you think
that that's what happened? That Benton Chambers murdered Parke?" She sounded more eager than distraught, Myrtle thought.
As if she were grasping at straws.

    "You're sure it was Benton Chambers," she pressed.
    "Positive. Cocky old son of a gun. Big-bones, leaning on his
crutch." Myrtle raised her eyebrows in inquiry and Kitty explained,
"He had that skiing accident, you know."
    "Snow skiing? It's summer!"
    "Water skiing. But still."
    "What would make Benton do such a thing? Why would he
mess up all the good things he's got going for him?"
    Kitty shrugged and the purple-flowered muumuu slipped off
her shoulder. "Guess it has something to do with him running
against development and her being the real estate queen." Kitty
moved restlessly from foot to foot. "I guess I should go to the police station and tell them what I saw."
    Myrtle was determined to turn in that tidbit herself. Just let Red
try scoffing at her investigative skills again! "Actually, I'm going over
there in a bit myself, so I'll let Red know. Then he can give you a call
and save you a trip."
    Kitty gratefully squeezed Myrtle's hand. Myrtle felt a twinge of
guilt. Kitty said, "I wasn't going to come to the club meeting today,
but Tippy drove by and picked me up. Said I needed to get out of
the house." Kitty grimaced. "I feel weird around Tippy now,
though. With what I saw at the church. Here she was doing something nice for me and the whole time I'm thinking that her husband killed Parke Stockard."
    "Let's get back to the others, Kitty. They'll send a search party if
we're not back soon." Myrtle also wanted to leave the powder room
before Kitty slathered on any more makeup. It wasn't doing her any favors. Finally, unable to restrain herself anymore, she said,
"Here" She pulled a tissue out of her bag, wet it, and quickly
scrubbed under Kitty's eyes to get some of the mascara and liner
off.

    Kitty smiled at her gratefully. Octogenarians could get away
with almost anything.
    Kitty plodded back to the living room, plopping down onto the
sofa. Most of the ladies tactfully continued their conversations and
tried to give Kitty time to compose herself, Myrtle noticed. Except
for Erma Sherman, of course. She called attention to Kitty by bellowing across the room, "Are you okay?" Myrtle made a growling
noise and Elaine loudly asked, "Cough drop, Myrtle?" Kitty pretended not to hear Erma and jumped into animated conversation
with a startled Althea Hayes.
    Myrtle could scarcely contain herself. Obviously worry about
being a suspect had been eating Kitty up inside ... just look at the
woman. Her nerves were shot. Now she had information about the
murder and it implicated the husband of her friend. No wonder
she was in such a state.
    The meeting started to break up and Elaine looked eager to
leave. Myrtle was still hoping to talk to Althea for a minute. Althea
had been so odd in the sanctuary that she was sure she knew something, too. After Myrtle's successful questioning of Kitty, she was
impatient to quiz Althea. Unfortunately, Althea seemed to have an
inkling of Myrtle's intent and edged closer to the door while trying
to divest herself of Erma Sherman, who was intent on finding out
more about her adored one, Josh Tucker, Althea's nephew.
    Myrtle hovered, barely concealing her impatience as Erma
coyly asked, "I'm sure Josh's family must be so proud of him? Fancy having a son or nephew who was a New York Times reporter!"
Looking hemmed in, Althea