A Body at Book Club (Myrtle Clover Mysteries) by Elizabeth Spann Craig

might have been around Naomi in the days prior to her death,” she said. Well, she was sure he was , even if he hadn’t shared that tidbit with her. “Did you see Naomi recently?”
    “If I had, I’d have glanced away and kept walking,” said Lena dryly. “Besides, I was out of town at the other times I’d have normally seen Naomi. I’d missed the garden club meeting last month, and, although I made the annual luncheon, I was seated far away from Naomi.”
    “I see,” said Myrtle. She paused for effect, but the only effect appeared to be the fact that Lena looked impatient. “Do the words Destroying Angel mean anything to you?”
    Lena frowned. “That’s a poisonous plant of some kind, isn’t it?”
    “That’s right—a mushroom,” said Myrtle.
    Lena nodded. “I have heard about it. Destroying Angel has been known to kill dogs before, as I recall…that’s why I know about it.  The mushrooms can grow on tree roots and dogs eat them and the ingestion is always fatal. I do know a bit about poisonous plants because pets sometimes eat things that they shouldn’t.” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you saying that’s what killed Naomi? A mushroom?”
    “I believe that her cause of death is likely still under investigation,” said Myrtle a bit cagily. Miles gave her a worried look. All they needed was for word to get back to Red that Myrtle was questioning suspects about mushrooms. This time, Myrtle was the one who was impatient to leave.

 
    Chapter Six
     
    That night, Myrtle set out more canned cat food in the backyard. She was sleepy enough to fall asleep straight away, but by two o’clock, she was staring at the ceiling, completely awake. What was there that was so familiar about mushrooms? Why the odd sense of déjà vu?
    Her eyes opened wide. She knew exactly where she’d heard it before. She shoved herself out of the bed, stuck her feet into a pair of tennis shoes, and threw on her robe. Surely Miles was awake tonight. After such a stimulating day, who could sleep?
    She was right. Miles’s lights were on. She hurried up his walkway and rapped on his door. Miles, dressed in plaid pajamas under a navy bathrobe, opened the door right away as if he’d been expecting her. “Hi, Myrtle,” he said calmly.
    “Hi, Miles.”
    Miles led the way to his kitchen where he already had two cups and saucers out and a coffeepot carafe sitting on a trivet on the kitchen table. He was already pouring exactly the right amount of half-and-half in her cup and putting in a loaded teaspoon of sugar before pouring coffee on top, stirring, and passing it wordlessly her way.
    Myrtle took a couple of sips and nodded in approval, waiting as Miles fixed his own cup. “Got any cookies?” she asked, glancing around his kitchen.
    He reached for a plate that was hiding behind the coffeepot. Myrtle took a chocolate chip cookie. She raised her eyebrows. “Homemade?”
    Miles shook his head. “Just like homemade according to the package. Homemade by somebody, I guess.”
    Myrtle nodded. She said, “Miles, I made a discovery.”
    “I rather thought you might. You seemed deep in thought on the way back from the vet.”
    “I’d heard from Rose that the latest garden club meeting featured a speaker from the county extension office who talked, among other things, about poisonous mushrooms!” Myrtle sat back in the chair and beamed at Miles.
    Miles seemed slow to take this news in. “So, do you think that Rose is responsible…?”
    “No, no. At least—well, she might be. She was at the garden club meeting, after all. But so were other suspects in this case. Claudia is a garden club member; Maxine goes to garden club …”
    “Aren’t you a garden club member?” asked Miles, wrinkling his forehead.
    “Officially, I’m on the roster,” said Myrtle with a shrug. “I’ll go if there’s nothing else to do. Although I’ve gotten rather discouraged with my situation and haven’t felt like hearing all the wonderful things