Free Elaine Orr - Jolie Gentil 02 - Rekindling Motives by Elaine Orr Page B

told you…”
    “I know, I know. You have lots of open cases to work on.” I kept my tone pleasant. After all, he didn’t have to tell me anything. “You may find this hard to believe, but I don’t have skeletons jump out at me too often, so I’m naturally curious.”
    “There is nothing natural about your level of curiosity.” His look was direct. “Why’d you ask that, anyway?”
    “Because the clothes in that wardrobe were from the 1940s, according to Scoobie and Ramona. Seemed as if the skeleton was put in there long after 1929.”
    Morehouse made a note on a small pad in front of him and stood. “Gracie did say you could know the results of the DNA analysis. That’ll still be at least a few weeks, probably.” When I didn’t stand immediately, he asked, “Doesn’t Harry Steele have enough work for you?”
    MY SEARCH FOR INFORMATION to use in appraising the Tillotson house was very frustrating. There were tax records on the property dating to the early 1900s, and I could see the steady rise in the tax bill as the value of the property rose, especially after the late 1950s. In 1918 it had been assessed at $2,600, a reflection of the family’s wealth in times when many houses were worth far less.
    The most recent assessment was for $380,000, but I couldn’t use the tax assessor’s value alone to come up with the appraisal amount. Anyway, there was no guarantee someone would pay as much as $380,000 for the house, which was in good condition for its age but would likely require a lot of updating in the kitchens and bathrooms, at least. On the other hand, get the right buyer and they might be willing to pay $425,000 or more. Especially if they were wealthy Manhattanites looking for a weekend place. What I needed were comparable recent sales, and there simply weren’t any.
    As I sat tapping my pencil on the binder in which the Miller County Register of Deeds kindly places information on recent house sales in each municipality in the county, George Winters walked in. “Fancy meeting you here,” he said, as he sidled next to me at the Formica-topped counter.
    “And you thought I was dying to see you?” I asked. “Maybe I wanted my picture taken again?”
    “You left yourself wide open for that, Jolie.” When I didn’t respond he continued, “I heard you and Scoobie were going through the attic. Wondered if you found anything interesting.”
    “Scoobie really likes the Lionel trains,” I said, putting my pencil in my purse.
    “You know what I mean, anything related to the skeleton.” I turned toward the door and he continued, “Come on Jolie. I can’t go in there to poke around.”
    I faced him squarely. “You promise not to write insulting stuff about me?”
    He dropped my gaze.
    “Ha! See, you can’t promise.”
    A slow grin spread across his face. “It’s just you give me so many opportunities.” I pushed past him into the hallway.
    “Okay, okay. Nothing insulting.” He paused as I gave him a skeptical look. “For how long?”
    “See,” I said, pushing the down button on the elevator, “You look for ways to needle me.”
    “Aw, Jolie. Come on. You’re fun to cover.”
    We entered the elevator and the door closed. “I’m serious Winters, lay off for awhile.”
    “Promise,” he said quickly. “Now, did you see anything interesting in the attic?”
    As he opened the courthouse door to the street, I told him, “It’s a treasure trove. Lots of old furniture, clothes, games. Ramona wants one of the dress forms. She’s the only one I know thin enough to use it. But…” I considered whether to tell him the skeleton was in the cupboard with clothes from the 1940s and decided against it. “I can’t say there was anything newsy.”
    His face fell. “Nuts. My editor keeps insisting there’s a big story there. Solve that old murder somehow.”
    For a fleeting second I thought about discussing the clothes and photo albums. Of everyone in town, Winters might be my best