Free Wilmington, NC 04 - Murder At Wrightsville Beach by Ellen Elizabeth Hunter Page B

him sitting out on the deck when I climbed the outside stairs, but he wasn't there, and I didn't see him as I passed through the great room. The man was sure a puzzle. I didn't see anyone, not Melanie nor Kelly as I helped myself to more decaf. I wondered if Kelly had already left for downtown. She was meeting Jon and me at the house at nine. I had to hustle.I showered and dressed in what Melanie refers to as my "construction wear chic," khaki shorts with a multitude of pockets, a tee shirt, and steel-toed construction boots with thick socks. A roofing nail through a sandal is no laughing matter, despite how Melanie scoffs at my attire.
    Jon's Escalade and Kelly's rental car were already parked at the curb in front of the house on Grace Street when I arrived. A heap of black plastic garbage bags lined the curb.
    Kelly and I had made a thorough tour of both floors of the house on Saturday. This Monday morning had been reserved for inspecting the basement. The house was hot and stuffy and I was hoping the basement would be cooler.
    "Because of the cracks I've seen throughout the house," I said as I snapped on the lights at the top of the basement stairs, "I'm expecting to find some damage down there."
    "Oh no!" Kelly exclaimed as she led the way. "Don't say that."
    "Don't worry," Jon said soothingly. "There's a solution for every problem. We'll handle it. We work with an excellent, experienced general contractor and we'll bring in specialists."
    I surveyed the large gloomy space. The foundation was made of cinder blocks and I moved closer to one wall to inspect its condition. "Just as I suspected. Cracks," I said as I shone my flashlight on one.
    "Fixable," Jon said, joining me. "We'll repair the cracks and apply a sealant."
    "We'd better have a radon test just to be on the safe side," I said.
    "Radon? What's that?" Kelly asked in an alarmed voice.
    "Radon is a naturally occurring gas that is found underground. If it's here it may have seeped into the house through these cracks. It could be dangerous."
    Oh, for the life of a New Yorker, I mused, high above the ground in an apartment, and let someone else worry about things like basements.
    "Don't look so glum, Kelly. This stuff is minor," Jon said.
    "The cement floor is in good condition," I commented. "Basically, it's dry down here. Looks like someone starting remodeling. That paneling is real knotty pine, tongue-and-groove, used for paneling walls in the days before sheet paneling was manufactured."
    A carpentry project had been started, then abandoned. One wall of the cinder block foundation had been covered with golden pine tongue-and-groove boards. A portion of the ceiling had been covered as well.
    "Great-uncle William did that, way back when. He had the idea of making a rec room down here, a place where he could escape from the rest of the family. Grandpa said that when Uncle William returned from the war, he had been restless and nervous. Working with his hands helped him stay focused."
    "But he never finished it," I said, examining the carpentry work which was exacting. "He was doing a nice job."
    "Well, you know," Kelly started, then hesitated, then finally blurted, "Uncle William committed suicide."
    "No, I didn't know. I'm sorry," I said.
    "Well, it was all very sad. He was a basket case after the war. Grandpa referred to his condition as shell shock; many veterans returned with post-traumatic stress syndrome. After he took his life Grandma Marty started going down hill fast. She died too, a year later. Poor Grandpa."
    "You said your family history was tragic, Kelly. It surely is," I said sympathetically.
    I thought it would help her to get the conversation back onto a professional note. "Well, I don't see any signs of asbestos insulation. In a lot of old houses it was used to insulate furnaces and boilers. It's that stuff that kind of looks like white cloth covering plaster. And if it's friable -- that is crumbling -- you're in trouble. But none of that here."
    "And