A Body at Bunco by Elizabeth Spann Craig

her. If she hadn’t taken that smoke break, she’d be inside drinking wine and playing Bonkers right now.”
    “Who, specifically, did she mention having gossip on?” asked Red, ignoring Myrtle’s anti-smoking community service message.
    “Oh, let’s see. There was Estelle, the storm chaser, who is broke. And Florence, who she hinted has some age-related issues. And then there was Alma. But I don’t have any details because Luella didn’t want to spill the beans—she just wanted to feel smug.”
    Red raised his eyebrows. “Still. That’s quite a bit of information to have worked out of the woman in a short span of time, Mama. I’m impressed.”
    “I was goading her into it. Which is all your fault!” hissed Myrtle, shooting her son an annoyed look.
    “ My fault? How on earth is it my fault?” asked Red.
    “You’re the one who tattled to Sloan about my correcting the newspaper. That sparked him to analyze The Bradley Bugle ’s stats. Which made him reach the conclusion that the paper needed more local stories … particularly of the salacious variety. Sloan believed that Luella might have the scoop on everyone in Bradley. Which led him to ask me to interrogate Luella.” Myrtle shrugged as if this line of progression made perfect sense.
    “Let’s get back to tonight,” urged Red. “We’ve been able to eliminate you, Miles, and Elaine. Anyone else?”
    “I guess Georgia Simpson, too. She’s so loud that I could easily keep track of her. I heard that laugh right behind me the entire time after she entered my house. Miles can probably back me up on that, since he’s fascinated by her. He likely had one eye on her the whole time,” said Myrtle.
    Red seemed bemused by this. “I wouldn’t put Miles and Georgia together.”
    “Perhaps he had a memorable childhood experience involving a tattooed lady at the circus,” said Myrtle.
    “Anyone else, Mama? Think it through for me. I know how observant you are.”
    It was a sign of Red’s desperation that he used the word observant instead of his go-to word nosy to describe his mother’s activities. It was a smart move, too. It actually made her want to help him, instead of begrudging him the information.
    “I’d like to imagine that Puddin could be responsible for this mess, judging from the other messes that she spearheaded today. But I can’t. Puddin is an utter disgrace, but I don’t think she goes around murdering people with Dusty’s rusty tools. And I can assure you that she did nothing but drink from a large glass of wine and corner Tippy Chambers at my front door the entire time. Tippy couldn’t even sit down or move into the room. Puddin acted as if she and Tippy were the very best of friends,” said Myrtle rolling her eyes. “In other words—Puddin and Tippy are out unless they were able to perform some sort of magical sleight of hand.”
    Red jotted down notes. “Okay. I’m sure the SBI will be here any minute to help me take statements and they’ll have forensics with them. I asked Elaine to make sure everyone kept away from the kitchen and the backyard. Everyone should just stay relaxed and seated in there until we’re all done and can tell them to leave. I’m sure you’ll want to get back in there and play hostess.”
    Myrtle intended on playing reporter, instead. This should be exactly the kind of story that Sloan was looking for to boost individual paper sales and maybe even loop in some new subscribers.
    But Myrtle hadn’t counted on the appeal of alcohol in this stressful circumstance. As soon as poisoning was completely ruled out as a possible method, the Bunco ladies headed over to the wine table and proceeded to deplete the remaining reserves. Fortunately, Miles assured Myrtle in a low voice that he’d already announced that he was the designated driver for anyone who needed a ride home.
    Once the state police arrived, things didn’t improve. They were rather rude, Myrtle thought. One of the SBI officers made snide