Chapter Seven
But at ten o’clock, when Myrtle and Miles were ringing Nell’s doorbell, she drove into her driveway. Nell’s house was conveniently located on Magnolia Lane, the same as Myrtle’s and Miles’s.
“See? Nell has already been out today. Other people in town are early birds,” said Myrtle with a sniff. She carefully juggled the cassoulet and gave Nell a jaunty wave.
“Not to be rude, Myrtle, but that casserole smells odd,” said Miles.
“It’s simply your unrefined senses,” said Myrtle in a firm voice. “And it’s not a casserole. It’s a cassoulet.”
“How did you get hold of duck this early in the morning?” asked Miles. His eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“Duck? Oh, one bird is as good as another,” said Myrtle airily as Nell parked her car in the garage.
Miles said, “Does that mean th
