Elaine Orr - Jolie Gentil 06 - Behind the Walls by Elaine Orr Page A

“You coming?” he asked George.
    “He already threw me off the property. He’ll just say I went looking for Jolie to get around him.”
    I raised my eyebrows in amusement as we all stood and gathered up napkins and mugs.
    “Okay, I did want to see if you were okay, all right?” George more or less stomped out ahead of Scoobie and me.
     
    SCOOBIE AND I walked up the back steps and saw Sergeant Morehouse in the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”
    “What’s wrong is Norman Fitzgerald got killed on your front porch.” He saw my look of shock at his harsh tone, unusual even for him, and had the decency to look chagrined.
    “But I called because Pebbles doesn’t seem to want to be left alone.”
    I glanced to the floor to see she had her head on his pant leg.
    “Isn’t that special?” Scoobie asked.
    “It ain’t special. This skunk thinks it’s a person. Always has.” He scowled at me. “Anyway, you probably should take it with you, or stay here tonight.” He looked at Scoobie.
    “Yeah, yeah, I can bunk here,” he said. He looked at me. “Like when Madge and Harry were on their honeymoon. Pretty soon people’ll talk, you know.”
    “Not likely,” Morehouse said, and he bent down to gently push Pebbles away and walked out.
    “I think one of us was insulted,” I said to Scoobie.
    He grinned. “I wonder what Morehouse would say if I spread it around that he has a soft spot for skunks?”
    I looked around my small kitchen, which I had painted a bright yellow. “I’m not sure I can ever walk in the front door again.”
    “I bet it’ll be awhile. Can I use your car to get some books from my place?” he asked.
    “Sure.” I dug the keys out of my purse. “Oh, I have food and a new litter pan for Pebbles in the car. Bring them in when you come back, would you? The police already brought in the new tub of litter for me.”
    “I bet there’s a picture of Pebbles in the paper tomorrow.” He left.
    I wandered through the house, Pebbles at my heels. I supposed she was hungry, so I went back to the fridge and gave her some more cauliflower. She gave me what I interpreted to be a dirty look, and started eating.
    Automatically I washed the couple of dishes in my sink, thinking all the while. Why would Mr. Fitzgerald stop by? Maybe he found out who took the drawer. But that didn’t make sense. He would have dealt with the thief, not come to see me. Suddenly I remembered that he said he had not been in the house for years, but Morehouse had asked me if Fitzgerald had brought Pebbles to the house.
    I called Morehouse. “Did Mr. Fitzgerald know Mrs. Peebles very well?” I asked.
    “And you need to know this now , why?”
    “Because you thought he might have brought Pebbles, and I think he told me he hadn’t been here for…maybe decades.”
    “Humph.” He paused for a couple of moments. “When did he tell you that?”
    I relayed Fitzgerald’s visit to return the drawer.
    “You didn’t tell me that.” His tone was accusatory. “Who took it?”
    “Don’t know. Someone left it on the front seat of his truck, or van, whatever he had. Hey, where was his van?”
    “Couple streets over,” Morehouse said, slowly.
    “Don’t you think that’s kind of odd?”
    “Maybe, maybe not. Dana’s asking people on that block to see if he was visiting them.”
    “What if…?” I began.
    “Jolie, it’s been a long day,” Morehouse said.
    “Oh sure. I suppose I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
    He grunted and hung up.
    I looked at Pebbles, who had walked to where I was sitting on the rocking chair Aunt Madge had given me as a housewarming present. “Maybe you could teach him some manners.”
    She stared at me and wandered toward my bedroom. It occurred to me I didn’t know where she was used to sleeping. It darn well was not going to be on my bed. I followed her.
    Pebbles sat in a corner of the room and stared at me intently, if a skunk can do that. I pulled a towel out of the linen closet and placed it on the