Chapter Four––––––––
It was nice to have a spy Myrtle could count on. And her neighbor, Miles, made an excellent spy. Somehow, when Myrtle looked pushy and nosy, Miles simply appeared innocuously observant. And when he asked questions, he was able to fly under Red’s radar, which wasn’t the case for Myrtle. So of course it was Miles she turned to when she needed a set of eyes over at the Beauty Box. Priority number one was to find out more about Tammy’s mysterious death. Was it an accident? Or murder?
The only problem was that she’d forgotten about the painting she’d left on Miles’ doorstep.
“Oh, it’s you,” said Miles. “I was just about to call you.”
“About Tammy’s death?”
“No, about the other atrocity...that painting you foisted on me. With the cryptic, thinking of you, message. I ca
