Chapter Thirteen
There was nowhere to hide in the diner, which was brightly-lit with florescent lighting. Plus, Myrtle was hardly a short woman.
“I thought you’d want to talk with her. She’s a suspect, after all,” murmured Miles.
“I appear to be allergic to the woman. She makes me sort of itchy.” Myrtle rubbed at her forearms.
Olive had spotted them, though. She was nothing if not eagle-eyed. She zoomed in right for their table. “There you are,” she said triumphantly, as if she was winning at a game of hide-and-seek. “You’re pretty elusive, aren’t you, Myrtle? I thought I’d speak with you at the funeral service, but you suddenly disappeared. With Miles.”
Olive was clearly going to be starting yet more rumors. This time, the stars of the rumors would be Myrtle and Miles and their compl
