The problem with surviving several attempts on your life, thought Myrtle, was how darned overprotective everybody became. If Red had his way, she’d be wrapped up in cotton wool and packed away in Styrofoam peanuts. It was most disheartening for a star reporter-c*m-sleuth.
The only way to really figure out what was going on was to get out and about. But any attempts to really do some investigating were bound to be foiled by Red and Perkins. No, it was going to take more ingenuity to be able to find out some useful information this time.
She thought about the remaining suspects. Georgia had still been angry at the time of Cullen’s death over the lottery money she’d lost. Keeping that fact in mind, Myrtle had decided to use Georgia’s affinity for angels to contact her again about the case
