Chapter Twenty
Myrtle decided to immediately launch into talking about Preston’s death. “Have you heard the news?”
“Not much of a news watcher,” admitted Foley. “Also, the TV is broke.”
Myrtle said, “You remember Preston Cook.”
“Sure. His garage is where my car’s at.” Foley turned from looking out the window to look at Myrtle in the front seat.
“He’s been murdered,” said Myrtle.
“What? No way.”
“I’m afraid so,” said Myrtle.
Foley gave a low whistle. “Ain’t that the craziest thing? What am I goin’ to do now? I was thinking if I got a used car cheaper than repairin’ my old wreck then I’d run it by Preston’s place to have him check it out before I bought it.”
Miles said, “There are a couple of other places in town, aren’t there? Maybe one of them could help.”
Foley snorted. “Them? T
