Free Elaine Orr - Jolie Gentil 05 - Trouble on the Doorstep by Elaine Orr Page A

only a 30-second rendition. “I just left Sgt. Morehouse. He’s not too forthcoming, but I didn’t get the sense they know much.”
    I heard Aunt Madge say to Harry, “We really should get home.”
    “No!” I said. “Look, there’s not one thing you can do, and I’ve heard both of you call this the trip of a lifetime. You need to stay with your ship. Where are you anyway?” I had the schedule in my room, but hadn’t looked at it a lot.
    “Spain. We…” Harry stopped talking and there was a rustling noise.
    “Goodness, the guests.” Aunt Madge spoke directly into the phone. “Were you supposed to have some last night, or am I mixed up?”
    “Two men, and they couldn’t have been more gracious. I put them in Beachcomber’s Alley and I dropped off muffins this morning.”
    “What a good idea,” she said.
    I detected surprise in her voice. She had been nervous about leaving the Cozy Corner in my care. I do lousy hospital corners on the beds.
    “I didn’t even ask about you, Jolie,” she said. “You said in your email that you were coping. You must have been terribly upset.”
    “It was pretty bad. I didn’t actually see much. Sgt Morehouse kind of pushed me out of the kitchen real fast.”
    “Good for him,” Harry said, from the background.
    “Um, Aunt Madge.”
    “Yes, Jolie.”
    “It sounds kind of gross, but I thought you’d want to know that Dana called a guy to, um, clean the floor. He was there last night and this morning. He did a really good job.”
    There was silence, and it sounded as if their phone changed hands again. Harry came on again. “I think we’ll stay with the cruise. You said in your note that George and Scoobie stayed last night. Can one of them stay every night until we’re back?”
    “George is quite keen on that,” I said, dryly. I could almost feel Harry smile. “Oh, and he and Scoobie put a deadbolt on the door that goes down to the basement.”
    “Make sure you keep the alarm on,” Aunt Madge’s nose was stuffy from crying, something she rarely does.
    I wanted to say something comforting, but had no clue what it would be. “I didn’t even ask you. Is the food good? Are you meeting some nice people?”
    “Cruises are even more than you’d expect,” Harry said. “We’ll have lots to tell you.” Aunt Madge blew her nose.
    I let them fuss over me for a couple more minutes, and finally got off the phone by saying I was going to work. Harry was all for that.
     
    THERE WERE SIX messages on Steele Appraisals’ phone, and none was about appraising a house. Two were from George. He had called my mobile when I was with Sgt. Morehouse, but I hadn’t answered.
    George’s second message said, “Okay, Jolie, I just talked to Morehouse and he said you were there a few minutes ago, so I’m not worried anymore. Call me, okay? I want to be sure you’re doing okay.”
    Two were from Elmira. The first one sounded as if it was before she read the paper. She wanted me to tell the management at Silver Times to fix her duplex first. “Jeez, Elmira,” I said aloud. “If it bugs you go to a hotel for awhile.” A hotel far away.
    The second message actually star ted out sounding concerned. “I’m sorry, Jolie, I didn’t know about the Morton boy when I called first.” Then she adopted her usual clipped voice. “You don’t need to come today.”
    As if.
    I dreaded calling George. I tried to pretend that not talking about the knife set wasn’t a lie. But as my mother told me when I kept taking things from Renée’s room when I was about six, when you withhold information it’s a lie of omission.
    After the second time I said I was fine, I think George could tell I was getting impatient.
    “So, uh, did Morehouse say anything interesting?” George asked.
    “Same old same old. He told me to mind my own business.”
    “This is your business,” George said, clearly irritated.
    “He also more or less told me to keep you out of the loop.”
    “I figured he