Chapter Nineteen
Tarleton looked down at Myrtle and his eyes narrowed. “Something wrong, Miss Myrtle?” he asked lightly. His voice sounded strained.
Myrtle casually reached for her phone and typed a text to Red. Get over here. To Tarleton, she said, “No, I was just remembering something that I need from the store. I’ll get Red to pick it up.”
“But that’s my job, remember, Miss Myrtle?” asked Tarleton. “Odd jobs and errands. No, I don’t think that was it.”
Although he seemed to be keeping his voice deliberately light, Myrtle could hear a raspy strain of stress in it. She could dash out the front door and run down to Miles. She could fling open his front door and announce to book club that Tarleton Fleming—who they’d all trusted at the bank for ages with their money—was Neil’s and Lyle’s
