Free Bulldog (Dev Haskell - Private Investigator Book 9) by Mike Faricy Page A

bought it from. I never met them, they weren’t at the closing. It was just that sleazy lawyer guy.”
    “Jackie Van Dorn.”
    “Creepy Van Dorn, if you ask me.”
    “No argument from me, but he’s not going to give us the seller’s name, client privilege and all that stuff. Damn it, I thought the info would be on the property abstract.”
    Casey sort of rolled her eyes and said, “What? You’ve got to be kidding, Dev, they haven’t been doing that since like forever. You’re thinking back to the days when a bunch of little men with green visors and garters around their sleeves sat at high desks and wrote this stuff out under candlelight. Hello, time to update. God and you don’t text either, surprise, surprise. It’s all computerized now, time to move into the new century.”
    “Why even have this thing?” I said pointing to the abstract. “That’s just great,” I said suggesting anything but, then I took a healthy swallow of beer.
    “Well, historical record just for a start, Dev. I thought that’s why you wanted it, to get a little history of our house.” Her eyes suddenly watered and she sounded on the verge of an emotional moment.
    “It will be interesting to page through, Casey. I was just hoping to learn who you purchased the home from, that’s all. I must not have made myself clear.”
    “Oh, you probably did, it’s just that I’ve been such a wreck ever since…” and then her voice trailed off. Her face flushed and she bit her lower lip to keep in control.
    I reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I want to read this and Louie wanted to, too. You’re right, it is interesting, it’s just that there’s no romance on the computer, at least for guys like me.”
    “Well, except for all the porn you probably watch,” she laughed then took a sip of wine and seemed to get back under control.
    “There is that,” I said.
     
     
    Chapter Nineteen
     
    My back was to the office door when Louie came in. I had the binoculars up and was watching one of the women across the street making what looked to be a mug of tea. She had a short, silky sort of blue robe wrapped loosely around her and I could only hope the steam from the kettle would be so hot that she’d take the thing off. No such luck.
    “That abstract from Casey is on your desk, there.”
    “Cool,” Louie said then put his briefcase down, poured himself a mug of coffee and settled into his desk chair. He pulled the abstract out of the Ziploc bag.
    “She’s already yelled at me about spilling anything on it, so don’t. Besides, it’s not going to tell you a damn thing, anyway.”
    “I just love these things, they’re such a slice of history, Dev. The day to day lives it reflects, the people that first settled here. Just think, no running water, no electricity, no phones.”
    “Yeah, sounds great, not.” The woman across the way grabbed her mug and strutted sexily out of the kitchen. She began to remove her robe just as she walked into another room and vanished from sight.
    I turned to face Louie. “I thought that thing would tell us who Casey and Dermot bought their house from, the thing is worthless on that count.”
    Louie stared at me for a long moment then said, “They haven’t been listing that on abstracts for the last quarter of a century. Where have you been?”
    “I’ve been busy.”
    “Starring out the window is what you’ve been doing. Staring as life just continues to pass you by, Dev. Come on, get with the program, hell, get with any program,” he said then chuckled.
    “How did we get from Casey’s abstract to me being a bum? Don’t answer that, and don’t spill anything, damn it, she’ll kill me.”
    Louie flipped the faded green cover back then nodded for a moment as he read. “Fantastic,” he said to himself then looked up at me again. “That information, previous owners, taxes, valuation is a matter of public record.”
    “Yeah, I know that.”
    “Well, since you know that, then you