Free Medium Well (9781101599648) by Meg Benjamin Page B

dress so bright it made his teeth ache. Suspiciously red hair piled on top of her head in a neon-colored clip.
    She shook her head slowly, eyes narrowing. “Danny Ramos. You must be desperate if you’re coming to us. What dump are you trying to sell this time?”
    Time to do a little tap dancing, although Gracie didn’t respond well to bullshit as a rule. Hell, Gracie didn’t respond well to
anything
as a rule, particularly not anything related to him.
    â€œGracie, you wound me.” He managed to keep the smile in place as he placed his hand over his heart. “I yield to no one in my admiration of the district’s history. I just need a little information about one particular place. Background history, you understand, just to whet the customer’s appetite a little.”
    She sighed, sticking her pencil into her topknot. “I guess it’s too much to ask that you might be interested in local history for any reason other than money.”
    â€œAh, Gracie.” He grinned for real this time. “You know this is all just an excuse to see you.”
    He watched her cheeks turn slightly pink while she fought the urge to grin back. “You’re totally full of it, Ramos. What house are you talking about, anyway?”
    â€œThe Steadman place, and the carriage house out back.”
    Gracie’s forehead crinkled. “Beatrice Steadman? She didn’t build it, you know. But I’m not sure who did. It’s not what you’d call a distinguished house, architecturally speaking.”
    â€œDid you ever hear any other name associated with the place, like the Steves House or the Ike West?”
    She shook her head. “Not that I recall. Mrs. Steadman lived there for over forty years. She was one of the first people to move into the district and renovate. But the house never got included on the historic homes tour or anything. I don’t think I’ve ever been inside it, to tell you the truth. She never showed it to anyone as far as I know.”
    â€œI’ve got the name of the original owner, but apparently he didn’t ever live there. Would you have the records of the other owners here from before Mrs. Steadman moved in?”
    â€œWe have lots of materials here about the district—newspapers, journals, diaries, books. Even some personal papers from some of the original owners.” Gracie narrowed her eyes. “As you should well know by now.”
    â€œSo I could find the names of the owners here?” He reached into Gracie’s candy dish, ignoring her frown, and popped a jelly bean into his mouth. It tasted like dusty root beer but he managed not to gag.
    She shook her head. “No. If you want a complete list of the owners of that particular house, you’ll need to go to the county courthouse.”
    Danny frowned, thinking. It wasn’t his job to research previous owners—he typically left that to his assistant. How much information did Biddy already have? She knew the name of the builder, the first owner. She might have some of the other owners, too. But getting the list from her would mean admitting he wanted to know the details of the house’s history, and she was already a little too interested in what went on there for his peace of mind. “The county courthouse?”
    Gracie gave him a dry look. “That’s where they keep the deed registry. I thought you sold real estate for a living. Didn’t you finish all that required coursework?”
    He shrugged. “I try to stay out of the actual records, Gracie. I just want the stories that go along with the houses.”
    â€œGod knows you’re good at that part of it, at least.”
    Danny grinned again. Gracie might be a pain in the ass, but at least she didn’t make him feel like a nutcase. “If I had a list of owners, could I look them up in your collection?”
    â€œSure.” She leaned back in her chair. “Most of the