Read Elaine Orr - Jolie Gentil 04 - Any Port in a Storm for Free Online

couple ash trays at the house on Seashore,” I said. “They’re probably too young to be smoking.”
    “ Humph. There’s a good spot behind the library.”
    “And you know this how, Lester?” Joe asked.
    Lester shrugged. “I didn’t have an office in high school,” he said, not looking at Joe. Lester leaned across the table. “Listen, Jolie, I think this needs investigating.”
    I swallowed a sip of coffee too fast and heard Joe turn his snort into a cough. “How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t investigate things.” I said. “I just…check out things that don’t make sense.”
    “You and me, we work good together. Like after you found the skeleton.”
    “Don’t remind me. Anyway, Sgt. Morehouse said if all of us report it any time we see signs of someone being in a vacant place the police will have a better chance to catch them.”
    Lester’s look said what he thought about Morehouse’s efforts. “I can get a key to any of the houses,” Lester said. “We could make a list of where there’s been…”
    “No Lester. I’m minding my own business.”
    He lowered his voice. “Yeah, Ramona told me you’re learning to do that. And going to those meetings, too.”
    This seemed to pique Joe’s interest, so I lowered my voice. “Did Ramona mention those meetings are called anonymous for a reason?”
    He waved a hand dismissively. “You don’t have, like, a problem.”
    “I go to the family group meetings,” I said. “And it’s not about problems, it’s about finding your own solutions.” I was annoyed with Ramona for telling Lester that I went to All-Anon.
    “Whatever.” He pulled a wrinkled piece of paper from the pocket of his shirt. “Here, this is a list of all the places I’ve heard of.”
    “Lester!” It came out as a hiss. “Do I have to leave?”
    “All right, all right. But I gotta tell you, I’m disappointed in you, Jolie.”
    I kept myself from telling him how little that mattered, and we talked about a couple houses he thought he was about to write sales contracts for.
    As I stood to leave he tossed something about the size of a spool of thread, and I caught it. The whistle had a tiny pirate hat and on it was written, “Argrow Realty - #1 in Ocean Alley.”
    “Are you number one?” I asked, surprised.
    “Like someone who gets a free whistle will care,” he said.
     
    I HAD FINISHED THE THIRD OF THE four houses I had to appraise in three days. While that’s a manageable workload in a normal week it was not going to be easy to get it all done with Talk Like a Pirate Day coming up on Saturday. On top of that it was hot, probably the last real spate of summer weather, and vacant houses don’t have the air conditioning on.
    The house I had just finished examining was in the popsicle district, a neighborhood with many bright-colored houses, and had been extensively remodeled. I thought it was overpriced by a lot, and noted it was Lester’s sale. He advertises in some high-end magazines, so he gets Manhattanites who don’t recognize they are overpaying. I didn’t look forward to telling him the appraisal wouldn’t support his price.
    My phone chirped and I glanced at caller ID. George Winters. I pushed the speaker button.
    “Shiver me timbers! Is this the Jolie Gentil lass?”
    “Do you want me to hang up, George?”
    “I need to talk to you,” he said.
    “I don’t think so,” I countered.
    “I mean, like really. It’s about the houses.”
    He knew he had me. “What did you find out?” I had arrived at Harry Steele’s and put the car into park.
    “I made a map of the locations that I know of. Where can we meet?”
    I looked at the clock on my dashboard. It was two-thirty. “I need about an hour to enter some stuff in the computer at Harry’s. I’ll meet you at Newhart’s after that. You’re buying.” I hung up. It never hurts to let George know I have a lot more to do than talk to him.
    You just told Lester no. Why did you tell George yes? I