Murder on the Ballot, Myrtle Clover #17

Chapter Eleven

Foley looked a bit panicky again. "Got nothin' to do with that, like I said."

"I know. Maybe an alibi would help, just in case someone else asks you about it. Where were you when Royce was killed?"

"Don't know when he was killed, do I? But that was when I was at the garage tryin' to get my car fixed."

Miles asked, "Did they fix it?"

Wanda croaked, "No money."

Foley gave Wanda an admiring look. "That's right. Yeah, they could fix it, but I couldn't pay for it. Still sittin' at the garage." He glanced back at Myrtle. "Called Dusty an' he had to pick me up since the car is broke for good."

Myrtle nodded. "Now someone mentioned seeing you hanging around Royce quite a bit."

Foley made a face. "Don't hang around him. Wouldn't have nothin' to do with him!" He spat on the ground, which Myrtle took as a dramatic indicator of Foley making an emphatic statement. Then she realized he was simply spitting out his chewing tobacco.

"Well, maybe you have some idea who might have wanted to get rid of Royce. It sounds as if you did spend some time in his vicinity, despite your strong sentiments about him."

Foley gave her nearly the same squinting look Puddin gave her when she wasn't quite sure what Myrtle was getting at.

Wanda translated. "Know who did it?"

Foley gave her another appreciative look before scratching his head in thought. "Let's see. Right after that last poker game, I was gonna head home. Heard Royce get a phone call. Royce, he thought he was by hisself but then he never paid me much attention no-how. He was cooing on the phone." He gave Miles a meaningful look as if Miles was the only one present who might understand.

Miles frowned. "You mean he was speaking with a woman? A woman who wasn't his wife?"

Foley pointed at Miles. "Got it in one."

Myrtle said, "So he wasn't speaking with Jenny. Do you know who he was talking to?"

Foley considered this. "Christy? Naw. Cindy. That's it. Wife of that fellow who owns the garage where my car's at."

"Cindy Cook?" asked Myrtle.

"That's her. I seen 'em together, too. I was in the grocery store one day and thought they looked pretty cozy. Canoodling with each other."

Myrtle said thoughtfully, "Well, that's very interesting. As a matter of fact, the two of them dated in high school."

"How do you remember things that happened that long ago?" asked Miles.

"It's a gift."

Dusty, still out lugging gnomes around, cleared his throat loudly and in a very annoyed way. Foley shot another anxious look in his direction.

Miles said, "Perhaps we should let Foley get back to work."

Myrtle gave him a distracted look. "What? Oh, okay."

Foley slumped a little in relief and took a few steps in Dusty's direction before Myrtle said, "You don't gamble still, do you?"

"Ain't got no money," said Foley with a shrug. "It were just a hobby, not a habit."

Myrtle watched as he grabbed a gnome from the storage shed and went around the corner of the house.

"I don't think I hear the vacuum anymore," said Miles.

"That's one of the irritating things about Puddin. She lies in wait. You'll think she's done with the vacuuming and then as soon as you go inside, she'll practically assault you with it. Why, do you want to go back inside?"