Myrtle frowned. “Perhaps he’s a little deaf. He did listen to a lot of loud music when he was young.”
Miles’s gave a soft sigh as Myrtle pounded on the door and rang the doorbell many times in a row.
The door suddenly flew open and a wild-looking man with hair standing on end gaped at them. He looked, Myrtle reflected, rather like Crazy Dan, Wanda’s brother.
“Edgar,” said Myrtle. “Miles and I wanted to extend our sympathies for your sister’s death. We brought a casserole.”
Edgar rubbed his eyes and peered closely at Myrtle. “Well, I’ll be. If it ain’t Miss Myrtle. I thought you was dead.”
Myrtle flinched at the was. “And I thought I taught you English. It appears it didn’t take.”
Edgar yawned. “Sorry. I just woke up. I’ll try to talk better.” He paused. “Uh, do you want to come in
