Chapter Nine
Myrtle finally found her keys, thrust one into the lock, and pushed at the door. The inside of her house was foggy with smoke. She muttered imprecations and hurried to the kitchen.
Erma had a tissue over her nose and screeched, “Myrtle! Whatever you’re getting out, leave it! It’s not worth it! Save yourself!”
It wasn’t as if the house was burning down. But the ham was not turning out the way it was intended to. She yanked on the oven door and clouds of smoke billowed out. What had made the thing burn? She’d only had it in there a couple of hours or so—it shouldn’t even be cooked yet. Myrtle frowned ferociously at the uncooperative ham, pulling it out of the oven and turning off the appliance.
She turned to tell Erma that everything was once again under control and she wa
