Murder on the Ballot, Myrtle Clover #17

Chapter Twelve

"Do you feel up to a little walk, Wanda? We don't have our driver right now, so it'll mean a bit of exercise."

"Goin' to the garage?" asked Wanda.

Myrtle smiled at her. "If you're up to it. It's very handy having a psychic around. It means I have a lot less explaining to do. We'll go see Preston Cook. He owns the garage and would have spoken with Foley about his broken car."

"An' he's married to the woman who Royce was talkin' to on the phone," added Wanda.

"You're a natural sidekick," said Myrtle, sounding pleased. "Yes, that too. As I mentioned, I taught all these folks back in the day. At the time, Preston was a football hero and Royce . . . was not. Cindy and Royce had been an item until Cindy started dating Preston. They married young, as I recall. Now it sounds like Royce might have gotten Cindy back, at least briefly. I don't think Preston is the kind of man who would have taken kindly to that."

Wanda turned to look at Myrtle as they slowly made their way in the direction of the garage. "Think Preston might have killed Royce? Outta jealousy?"

"It's certainly possible."

The garage wasn't a very big place, but it was a popular one. There were cars everywhere—cars that were about to be worked on, cars that were ready to be picked up, and cars belonging to the mechanics who worked there.

"You ain't got no car," said Wanda as they approached the garage.

"No. Red made sure of that years ago."

"Then what's yer excuse for bein' here?" asked Wanda.

"I'm campaigning," said Myrtle simply. "I'm asking for Preston's vote. You're here as a member of my campaign staff."

Wanda smiled a little to herself at the thought of being on someone's campaign staff.

Myrtle spotted Preston outside the garage looking at a car and waved. He raised his hand and immediately started coming over. Myrtle had to admit she wasn't exactly sure what Cindy had found appealing in Royce, especially compared to Preston. You could still see how Preston Cook had been a football star back in the day. He was still muscular, strong, and athletic looking. He'd been the high school's quarterback and had even gotten picked for a college team. At the time, though, Myrtle had wondered if Preston's academic performance would allow him to remain on a college team. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to cut it as a student and had been forced to drop out. But he hadn't done poorly for himself—he'd started out as a mechanic at this garage and had ended up owning it. Still, though, Myrtle had always felt Preston had a lingering air of regret about him. As if he were living a life that he hadn't quite planned on.

"Miss Myrtle," said Preston, respectfully taking his baseball cap off as he walked up. "It's very good to see you."

Myrtle introduced Wanda and then said, "It's been a long time. How have you been?"

"Oh, pretty good, pretty good. You know how it is, Miss Myrtle. I don't have any complaints. Like I said, it sure is good to see you. I was just thinking about you the other day, as a matter of fact. You were such a good teacher and I still remember stuff you taught me. I feel like I write out decent invoices for customers because of your help."

Myrtle beamed at him. Preston's cell phone rang and he said, "Please excuse me for a second."

He put his cap back on his head so he could find his phone. He was fumbling with some of the aforementioned invoices, so Myrtle held out her hand for them. He thrust the papers gratefully at her as he spoke on the phone to a customer calling to check on his vehicle. Myrtle glanced over the invoices and sighed. There were plenty of errors on them. She hated to think they'd be even worse if Preston hadn't had her for high school English.