home, done some kickboxing on the heavy bag hanging in her basement, put away some laundry and actually cleaned her kitchen. After that she showered and was thinking about going to bed but had grown very restless. Her mind kept returning to the murders. Was there something they were overlooking? King had suggested that Mrs. Canney hadn’t died in a car accident, that she had been murdered. If so, by whom?
Her head buzzing, she decided to go for a drive; that always helped her think more clearly. Her route took her past her and King’s office. She parked and went inside, figuring she’d go over her voluminous notes on the investigation she kept in her desk to see if anything clicked.
As she passed through the small office foyer, she saw some telephone messages on the part-time receptionist’s desk. There was one for King from a Billy Edwards. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. The area code was from the Los Angeles area. It was still early enough there, she decided. One thing that annoyed her about working with King was that he kept things incredibly close to the vest, even at the expense of his partner. This might be a chance for her to get the jump on him. She called Edwards. On the third ring the phone was picked up.
“Billy Edwards?”
“That’s right. Who’s this?”
“Michelle Maxwell. I’m partners with Sean King in Wrightsburg, Virginia. I believe he called you?”
“That’s right. I was just getting back to him.”
“He’s out right now and asked me to return the call.”
“Fine with me. So what do you want to know about the time I worked at the Battles’?”
Now the name clicked. Billy Edwards was the mechanic for Bobby Battle’s classic car collection. He’d been let go the day after Bobby and Remmy’s argument, the one Sally Wainwright had overheard.
“That’s right,” Michelle said quickly. “We understand you were let go very abruptly.”
Edwards laughed. “Try thrown out on my ass with no warning.”
“By Bobby Battle?”
“The one and only. I heard on the news that he died. Is that right?”
“Yes. Did he give any reason for letting you go?”
“Nope. But he didn’t have to. It didn’t have anything to do with my work, I know that. Now, I admit I was pissed with how it was handled, but the man treated me good. Paid me a nice severance and wrote a damn fine reference that helped me get another job pretty quick out in Ohio working for another rich guy with a car collection bigger than Battle’s.”
“Good for you. Now, we understand that the night before you were let go he and Mrs. Battle had an argument in the car barn.”
“Remmy Battle, now, there’s a real piece of work. Let me tell you, those two were equally matched, like Godzilla butting heads with King Kong.”
“Agreed. But did you know anything about an argument?”
“No. How’d you find out about it?”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, it’s confidential.”
“Uh-huh. I bet you it was Sally Wainwright, wasn’t it?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because she liked going down there and hanging out by herself. Of course she’d go down there with me sometimes too,” he added with a chuckle. “Oh, yeah, we had some good times together, me and Sally.”
“So you two were… seeing each other.”
“No. It was just messing around. She was wild, let me tell you. If Battle had known what we’d done inside some of his vehicles…”
“Really?”
“Hell, yes. But I wasn’t the only one.”
“Who else?”
“Is Mason still working there?”