Free Elaine Orr - Jolie Gentil 06 - Behind the Walls by Elaine Orr Page B

and the other was a pick pocket that paid visits to the last two auctions that Fitzgerald held just before Sandy.” George cleared his throat. “You hear anything about either of those?”
    “I remember the fire. What’s so special about that?” I asked.
    “Cause wasn’t determined. State fire marshal thought it looked suspicious, but they couldn’t document any accelerants or anything.”
    “Suspicious, how?” I asked.
    “It started in the kitchen, which is pretty common. But they couldn’t link it to a faulty stove or anything. In fact, the gas was off. Then a lot of what was left got blown away by the hurricane the next day, so they couldn’t do as full an investigation as they normally would.”
    I couldn’t imagine why he’d think I would have heard anything about the fire. “I don’t even remember anyone talking about it, just that there were a couple paragraphs in the paper the morning of the day Sandy came ashore. And it was vacant, right?”
    “And you didn’t see anything in other vacant houses you appraised?” he asked.
    I looked at him directly. “Like what?”
    “Like when you found cigarette butts and soft drink cans in a house one time.”
    “Nope. What are you thinking?”
    “There was a fire in another vacant house just last week. Usually the fire marshal can figure out a lot more than he can with these two. All he can tell is where they started, and there’s no reason for a fire to start there either time.”
    “What part of the recent house?” I asked.
    “That time in the living room, with curtains probably being the point of origin. There were curtains above the stove in the other house.” He flipped a page in his notebook. “The fire marshal said the houses burned because they were old and frame. In a newer house, the curtains probably would have burned and then the fire might not have found any other fuel.”
    “Insurance, you think?” I mused. I had read about several suspicious house fires further south of us, but they were in houses that Sandy severely damaged. There were media speculations, never proven, that owners were wary of rebuilding and were trying to get insurance money.
    “Didn’t seem likely,” he said, looking at a nearby wooden bench that was meant to hold people waiting to enter the small courtroom down the hall.
    “Hey, why were there curtains if the houses were vacant?”
    “The first home was for sale, and they had taken out almost all the furniture, but they were leaving blinds and curtains. Sandy damaged the second one and they didn’t bother to take everything out.”
    “It doesn’t seem like a lot to go on, especially with so much time between the fires.”
    “Yeah, that’s what the local firefighters think. Still…”
    “Unanswered questions,” I said, smiling. “You hate those.”
    He flushed and started to say something, but I cut him off. “If I see anything I’ll let you know.”
    “Okay, thanks.” George turned and walked quickly toward the large oak doors that led to the street.
    He was out the door before I could ask him about auction thefts, or whatever it was. Nothing he knew would likely explain why someone took my empty drawer, or whether he thought a purse thief took my camera card. I decided to keep that to myself for now.
    I turned to go back to my notes, which I’d left in the Register of Deeds’ office, when a thought occurred to me. This was the first time George had initiated a conversation with me in months. He must really want something, and I’m not crazy enough to think it’s me.
     
    MISTER ROGERS WAS very uncertain about getting in my car without Miss Piggy. They have ridden with me to go to the vet for shots or for a drive to the dog park at the edge of town. Always together. He gave me what I interpreted to be a questioning look.
    “No vet, no shots.” He didn’t move. “You want to see Jazz?” He wagged his tail and gave a short bark.
    “I’ll be darned.” I gave his back side a small push and