Free For Sale in Palm Springs: The Henry Wright Mystery Series by Albert Simon Page B

Palm Canyon
Drive.

    Hmmm, he hadn’t noticed all
the little freckles she had on her nose; he guessed they were more
noticeable in the sunlight outside. He was wondering why he was
noticing all these things about her; he hadn’t noticed things about
women for a long, long time.

    She deftly steered the
little car through the traffic and they arrived at the parking lot
behind the Blue Coyote with minutes to spare. They were seated
right away and Rosie ordered a margarita for herself and Henry
ordered a cup of coffee. The staff at the Blue Coyote seemed to be
familiar with Rosie and Henry wondered how many times she had been
here with Thornbird plotting to rip off unknowing home buyers. As
quickly as that thought came into his head, he pushed it out of his
mind, he didn’t want to think of Rosie that way, but he knew he
needed to remain objective towards her. At the same time, he didn’t
consider her a suspect, her grief at Thornbird’s death had seemed
too genuine, and there was really no motive for her to kill her
office’s cash cow.

    “ I really like the
enchiladas here.” She smiled, putting down her menu. “I agree, the
enchiladas are good; but I think I’ll have the fish tacos today.”
Henry said putting his menu on the table as well. The waiter
arrived with their drinks and they gave him their order. He picked
up the menus and disappeared into the back of the restaurant
leaving them alone at their table.

    Henry felt a little awkward,
but he wanted to know more about Rosie’s relationship with
Thornbird outside of the office, he thought about how to ask his
question, but decided there was really no easy way to get around it
and he wanted to be direct. “Rex and I used to come here for lunch
after realtor tours.” Rosie said carefully picking up her margarita
and licking some of the salt off the rim. “Ah, it seemed as though
the waiters and staff recognized you.” Henry was relieved that
Rosie had brought up Rex without him having to ask why the staff
seemed to know her. “Did you see Thornbird often outside of the
office, other than these realtor tours – and can you tell me what
those tours are?” Henry took another sip of his coffee, it was not
as good here as at Rosie’s office.

    “ We socialized occasionally,
but it wasn’t a serious thing, if that is what you mean,” Rosie
took a sip of her margarita. “We met here once every two weeks
after the realtor tours. A tour is where all the agents drive
around and look at all the new houses on the market. Since there
were usually too many houses, we split them up and then compared
notes afterwards over lunch. Usually we met here, sometimes at the
La Taqueria near the Plaza.”

    “ So during a tour you drive
over to every new home on the market, look at it and take the
flyers? I picked up a bunch of realtors’ business cards yesterday
from the house on Granvia Valmonte where Thornbird died; they must
be from the tour?” Henry looked at Rosie and was fascinated at how
she kept licking the salt from her glass before taking small sips
from her margarita.

    “ Generally whenever a
realtor goes into a house, either on the tour, or with a
prospective buyer, they will leave their card behind as a courtesy
to the listing agent.” Rosie answered. “That’s what Wayne Johnson,
the police captain who called you to let you know that I was coming
to see you, mentioned to me as well.” Henry picked up his coffee
again, and looked directly into Rosie’s bright green eyes. “You
told me yesterday that Mr. Thornbird had a penchant for finding and
selling celebrity owned homes, can you tell me a little bit more
about how he did that?”

    Rosie took another sip of
margarita, “Did I tell you yesterday that he sold an Albert Frey
designed hotel that had a Marilyn Monroe connection to a young
couple from Chicago?” “Yes, you did mention that. And my housemate
Charles mentioned to me that there was a small hotel near the
Racquet Club where Marilyn Monroe