Death of a Suitor Read online

  Myrtle waggled her fingers at him. “I’m getting my nails done.”

  “Well, that sounds like a remarkable thing to have on your agenda for the day. I don’t recall you caring very much about manicures.”

  Myrtle snorted. “I don’t. But I figured it might be an excellent way to speak with Nicole Jackson.”

  Miles’s face reflected surprise before he beamed at her. “Myrtle, I think that’s an excellent idea. Well done.”

  “You don’t have to sound so surprised about it. You know I do like to speak to all my suspects and Nicole definitely qualifies as a suspect. She wanted her father to sell his property on the lake. She apparently needs money. It stands to reason that she’s a good suspect.”

  “Oh, I know,” said Miles hurriedly. “It’s just that ordinarily, you want to bring the family members food.”

  Myrtle gave him an annoyed look. “Surely I’m allowed to switch things up.”

  “Of course you are.” Miles gave a happy smile, which seemed to annoy Myrtle further.

  “You act as though people aren’t delighted to receive my casseroles.”

  Miles hastily interjected, “Naturally they are. But I suppose sometimes people get quite a bit of food. That could be stressful, too. I’m currently completely snowed under with baked goods, for instance. And I have the terrible feeling I’m expected to write thank-you notes.”

  “Thank you notes are a must,” said Myrtle sternly.

  “I’ll get right on them. Likely while you’re getting your nails painted.” He glanced over at Myrtle’s hands and their sturdy, no-nonsense short nails. “Are you absolutely sure that Nicole Jackson will be there today? After all, she just lost her father.”

  “I called and made an appointment specifically with her, so she’s definitely working. I guess she needs the money. Or maybe she’s there as a distraction.” She looked at the clock. “Now I should be heading along.”

  “Where is the nail salon?”

  “Downtown. Not too far. I don’t need a ride.”

  They both stood up and Miles said regretfully, “I suppose I should go ahead and tackle those thank-you notes then.”

  “There’s no time like the present.”

  Miles wandered slowly back to his house as Myrtle got her purse and her cane and set off down the street toward downtown.

  The nail salon was situated in a cheerfully-painted brick building with flowers in the front window. And it was absolutely inundated with people. Myrtle blinked at them as she walked in. As far as she was aware, she’d never had her nails done, ever. But here were people from all walks of life getting manicures and pedicures. It was like a whole other world.

  The receptionist checked her in and Nicole came up to join her. She had dark hair and eyes and seemed to be in her late-thirties. She wore a black and white outfit that Myrtle suspected was quite expensive. And her nails were quite dramatic in both color and length.

  “Miss Myrtle,” said Nicole with a smile. “I haven’t seen you in a long time. My dad always had good things to say about you.”

  Myrtle was surprised to hear this. She didn’t remember Jax being particularly interested in her one way or another. “Well, that was sweet of him. I was so sorry to hear of his passing, dear. I know this must be such a hard time for you.”

  Nicole gave her a tight smile. “It has been. But everyone has been kind.” She paused for a second and then added. “Should we get started with your nails?”

  Myrtle glanced around the room. “Sure. What do I need to do?”

  Nicole’s eyes, framed by lush false eyelashes grew wide. “You’ve never had a manicure?”

  “No, I do my own nails. But when you’re my age, you need to pay your bucket list particular attention.”

  “A manicure is on your bucket list?” Nicole seemed a bit doubtful at that, but, to Myrtle’s relief, not at all suspicious.

  “Why not? It’s something I haven’t done before.”

  Nicole said, “Okay. Well, the first thing you need to do is to head over to this wall over here and pick your color.”

  Myrtle walked over and stood before a huge number of nail polish bottles. “Heavens. Where should I start?”

  Nicole said, “I’m guessing you might want something fairly conservative. Maybe a light pink? The advantage there is that it can chip and no one can really even tell.”

  “That sounds sensible,” said Myrtle.

  Nicole quirked an eyebrow. “Of course, sometimes we don’t want to be conservative or sensible. We just want to do something a little different. Since this is a bucket list item, maybe you’d like to do something a bit more radical.”

  Myrtle was intrigued. “What do you have in mind?”

  Nicole gave her a considering look. “Do you like robin’s egg blue?”

  “Generally? Yes. I wouldn’t have thought about having it on my fingernails, though.”

  Nicole said, “Oh, I think it would make a fun statement.”

  “It would certainly make a statement.”

  “We have a bottle with sparkles in it. So your fingertips will look magical,” said Nicole.

  Myrtle’s mind was already heading to upcoming events and whether robin’s egg blue fingernail polish would be entirely appropriate. “The only thing, dear, is your poor father’s funeral. I’m not sure I should wear something like that for that particular occasion.”

  Nicole laughed. “Are you kidding? Dad would have loved it. He’d be the first one to say that a funeral required that everyone needed cheering up. Besides, this isn’t a normal funeral.”

  “Then I believe that color with the sparkles would do very well, Nicole, thanks.”

  Nicole found the bottle and she and Myrtle headed to a table that was set up already and Nicole started briskly shaping and filing Myrtle’s nails. Nicole said, “Yes, this will be the perfect tribute for Dad.”

  Myrtle said, “You mentioned that Jax isn’t having a normal funeral. Now I’m curious.”

  Nicole’s wry expression indicated that she suspected Myrtle was always curious. “It’s going to be really different. And I guess it’s not really a funeral at all—it’s more of a celebration of life ceremony. Dad is being cremated. But he left really detailed instructions on everything he wanted done, so I’m following it to a T. The last thing I need is for Dad to haunt me for not doing exactly what he wanted.”

  “Is it going to be at the church?” asked Myrtle.

  “Oh, no. You know how Dad was. He wants the service in his yard. So I’ve got a place that usually does weddings coming to set up tables and chairs. Let’s hope we have good weather or else it’s going to be a disaster.”

  “When is it again?”

  “It’s tomorrow,” said Nicole.

  “Tomorrow!” It all seemed rather abrupt. Myrtle wasn’t even sure how Nicole had been able to plan and execute an unusual funeral in such short time.

  Nicole shrugged. “It’s my day off, so it seemed to work out well. Because it’s the middle of the week, there were discounts for the catering. And since it’s a celebration of life ceremony, it doesn’t matter that the police aren’t quite finished with Dad’s body yet.”

  The mention of the body was rather sobering and they were both quiet for a few moments.

  Myrtle finally said slowly, “I can’t help but wonder what happened to Jax, Nicole. He was always such a vibrant man—it’s hard to believe he’s gone.”

  Myrtle saw that flash in Nicole’s eyes again and knew exactly what she was thinking. She was now positive that Myrtle was a nosy old lady. Nicole said casually, “I know. That’s how I’ve been feeling, too. I keep thinking that I can just pick up the phone and give him a call. It’s unbelievable that he’s not around anymore. I was so shocked when the cops told me about it. I’d worked late here, picked up takeout, then went home to watch TV. I kept thinking that if I’d just gone over to check on Dad, none of this would have happened.”

  Myrtle said briskly, “You couldn’t have known. Jax wasn’t
the sort of person who really required being checked on, anyway.”

  Nicole snorted. “You’ve got that right. He was fiercely independent and let me know when I was getting into his business too much. He and I had that in common, at least. I was actually a lot more like my mom than Dad, but I did get his independent spirit.”

  “How long ago has it been since your mom passed?”

  “Gosh, it’s been twelve or more years.” Nicole was quiet for a minute as she worked on Myrtle’s right hand. Then she said, “I can’t believe time has flown that quickly. It’s just another reminder that I need to leave Bradley.”

  This was a sentiment that Myrtle had heard over the years from many a young resident of the town. Some of them did make it out and some of them couldn’t seem to get motivated enough to actually leave. “Where would you go?”

  “Atlanta.”

  “Really?” Myrtle couldn’t imagine living in Atlanta. The times she’d been through there it seemed as if everyone on the highway had wanted to be in her lane, even if she were already occupying it. “Would you have a salon there?”

  Nicole shook her head. “I’m really interested in fashion, mostly.”

  This was an area outside of Myrtle’s purview. “Would that mean working in retail?”

  “Well, I’d like to be a fashion buyer. That’s someone who picks out clothes from designers to stock in boutiques and department stores.”

  Myrtle said, “I’d imagine there’d be a good deal more demand for that in Atlanta than Bradley.”

  “Exactly. So I’ve been wanting to leave and move to Atlanta. But I’ve had a hard time saving enough money to make the trip over there. I don’t know anyone in Atlanta, so I wouldn’t have a roommate to cut costs. And it’s tough socking away cash when I don’t make very much working here.”

  Myrtle reflected that she might need to give Nicole a bit more of a tip than she’d planned on.

  “That’s why I was hoping my dad could lend me the money.”

  Myrtle said, “Was he able to do that?”

  Nicole made a face. “He wanted to. But he just didn’t have that kind of cash on hand. He’d never been great at financial stuff and didn’t care whether he had money or not. He just liked having fun. Not even expensive fun . . . just hanging out and listening to music and drinking beer. That’s why I was so aggravated with him about the property.”

  Myrtle carefully arranged her expression so it wouldn’t reveal the fact that she already knew about the real estate developer wanting to buy Jax’s land. “Property?”

  Nicole sighed as she put Myrtle’s other hand into a bowl to soak. “Just the property he lives on. The house isn’t anything fancy, but he owned several acres smack-dab on the lake. A developer offered him a big chunk of money if he’d sell it to them for condos or apartments or something.”

  “I’m guessing Jax said no to that.”

  Nicole’s face flushed with remembered anger. “Unfortunately. He could be a very stubborn guy when he wanted to be.”

  “Did you try to talk him into taking the developer up on it?”

  Nicole sighed. “Yeah, I sure did. It led to some nasty arguments between the two of us, which I feel really awful about now. But my dad didn’t understand me at all—we were completely different in a lot of ways. I tried to explain my goals to him, but he just didn’t get them. He wasn’t into fashion, of course. But besides that, he also didn’t have any higher aspirations. He’d never wanted to leave Bradley.”

  Myrtle nodded, hoping the slight encouragement would keep Nicole talking. And, indeed, Nicole didn’t seem to be one of those manicurists who was happy with silence.

  “Anyway, that was Dad—just living in the moment. At least I know that he died happy because Dad was always happy. Always content. He made me feel like there was something wrong with me for wanting something different.”

  Myrtle said, “Well, there isn’t, dear. Different strokes for different folks. But tell me . . . have things changed now? Is the deal with the developer still on the table?”

  Nicole gave her a wry look. “This is going to sound awful, but that was the first call I made after Dad died. The developer said the deal was absolutely still on the table, so I plan on selling the lot. It’s going to take a while, of course, to work its way through probate, but I’m not in any real hurry. Now that I know I can do what I want, I’m happy to wait a little while. That’s the only good thing that’s come out of all this.”

  Myrtle said, “Well, I know you miss him. Whenever I saw him out and about, he was always a bright spot in my day.” This was a bit of a stretch. Myrtle had found him rather self-centered and hedonistic.

  Nicole gave her a smile. “Thanks, Miss Myrtle. Everybody has been really nice. Now if the police can just figure out who did it.” She flushed a little and said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that. I know Red is your son.”

  “I tend to agree with you that the police are very poky in figuring these things out sometimes. You don’t have any ideas about who could have been behind this, do you?”

  Nicole carefully painted the blue polish on Myrtle’s fingertips. “Nope. Although I do know Dad wasn’t getting along real well with Eloise.”

  “Really?” Myrtle might have sounded a touch eager. There was a part of her that would like to see Eloise thrown under the proverbial bus.

  “I know, right? They always seemed like they were getting along great when they were out in public together. And who knows—maybe they had one of those relationships where it was sort of fiery. Or maybe they put an act on when people could see them together. Anyway, I’d run by Dad’s house a few days before he died to try to convince him again to sell his property. I’d found a really cute place for sale in town that looked like the kind of house he’d really like.”

  “And Eloise was with your dad?”

  Nicole snorted. “Well, she was screaming at him, actually. I didn’t even make it into the house. I parked the car and got out and there was Eloise yelling at him and Dad just sort of looked bemused with his arms folded. Then I saw that Marigold was just inside the house.”

  Myrtle nodded. “I understand that Marigold was having an affair with Jax.”

  Nicole rolled her eyes. “Yeah. That was Dad’s business and I didn’t offer my opinion on it. But I wasn’t surprised that Eloise was furious about it. It would have been one thing if he’d been upfront with her. But apparently, Eloise thought she was in an exclusive relationship with my father.”

  Myrtle raised her eyebrows. “Did she? Well, that’s rather extraordinary. My friend Miles thought he was in an exclusive relationship with Eloise. But Eloise acted as if it wasn’t any big deal that she was seeing someone else.”

  “She’s probably one of those people where it only matters that she isn’t being cheated on. She doesn’t care that she’s cheating on other people.”

  Myrtle said dryly, “That sounds about right. She’s not exactly a real catch, is she?”

  “It’s not the kind of relationship I’d want to be in, that’s for sure. But it worked for Dad, obviously. And, like I said, I didn’t say anything to him about it. He was a widower, after all. But I have to admit I wasn’t too keen on him getting married again.” Nicole carefully wiped away a stray bit of paint from Myrtle’s cuticle.

  Myrtle said, “I can imagine.”

  “It seems silly to say it, but it would have felt disrespectful to my mother’s memory.”

  Myrtle couldn’t help but wonder if Nicole was being disingenuous. Maybe Nicole was more concerned about losing her dad’s property than anything else.

  “Besides Eloise, I did know about one other issue Dad was having with somebody. Allen.”

  “Allen?” asked Myrtle.

  “Allen-from-the-theater,” said Nicole with a shrug. “I don’t really know anything else about him except that my father was complaining about him.”

  “You know, I do remember that your dad was a local thespian.”

  Nicole furrowed her brow
s and Myrtle explained, “I mean, he’s part of the community theater in Bradley. Is Mr. Toucan still in charge of the theater?”

  “I have no idea. I’ve never really been that interested in the theater, myself. I used to do stuff over there when I was a kid for these day camps my parents would put me in. My mom always said I was so dramatic that I needed to go into the theater. But I never really got into it, dramatic or not. I was just glad that it was something Dad enjoyed. It’s good to be part of something, isn’t it? Anyway, I know he was in some productions over there and did some other stuff with the theater, too—maybe was an usher or something like that. He talked about the people he knew over there and the friends he’d made, but I must not have been listening very carefully because it didn’t really make an impression on me.”

  “What did Jax say about Allen? You said Jax was complaining about him?”

  Nicole made a face. “I guess I wasn’t listening very hard again. But yeah—Dad wasn’t happy with him. They’d had some kind of tiff, but I got the impression that the tiff was all on Allen’s side. That’s all I really remember.” She tilted her head to the side and considered Myrtle’s brightly-painted nails through narrowed eyes and then nodded at her handiwork. “All right. We’re going to want to put you under the nail dryer for a few minutes to let the paint set. What do you think about them?”

  Myrtle wasn’t completely sure what to think about her nails. Her hands looked strangely foreign to her. But she had to admit that she felt happy when she looked at them. And sort of . . . peppy.

  “They’re sassy looking,” said Myrtle.

  Nicole burst out laughing. “They are, aren’t they? And is that okay?”

  Myrtle waggled her fingers, peering at them. “I think so. Yes, definitely. After all, you said Jax’s memorial service is going to be a lively affair.”

  “You’ll fit in perfectly,” said Nicole.

  Chapter Eight

  MILES’S EYES WERE WIDE as he saw Myrtle’s fingernails. “Wow.”

  Myrtle smirked at him. “Aren’t they colorful?”