Read Online This Old Murder by Valerie Wolzien - Free Book Online Page B

men doing the same jobs?”
    “As well or better. And some of the women we’ve hired have unique skills. Jill Pike, who is working on this project with Island Contracting, has spent some time in the Northwest, where she participated in building cob homes.”
    “She made a home from corncobs?”
    Josie felt as if she had the upper hand for a moment and decided to make the most of it. “No, Courtney, cob construction is an ancient building technique. Cob is a mixture of sand, straw, and clay. Jill and the group she was working with built six homes from that material over the course of two summers.”
    “In the Northwest?”
    “Yes, and I know what you’re thinking. The material is completely impervious to rain once it dries.”
    Courtney seemed speechless for a few minutes. “How interesting. Ah . . .”
    “It’s really fascinating,” Josie continued. “Families can actually build their own homes without much professional help and save considerable amounts of money—”
    “Speaking of women, work, and families, Josie. How does your family feel about the life you’ve chosen?”
    Josie smiled. “My son, Tyler, is sixteen years old and I think he’s proud of what I do. When he was small, he and I used to bicycle around the island in good weather and he would point out what he called Mommy’s houses.”
    “I was referring to the rest of your family. Your mother and father. How do they feel about you being a carpenter? Are they also proud of your handiwork?”
    “I haven’t . . . that is, they haven’t . . .” She took a deep breath and tried to figure out what to say. “My parents don’t live on the island” was all she came up with. She was busy trying to keep a scowl off her face. That damn camera was still going.
    “That’s too bad. They might be proud to see how successful their little girl is.” Courtney turned back to the camera, smiled, and changed the subject. “So we’ll be meeting more women than we usually do on our shows during this project. Tell us a bit about the island, Josie. I gather you’re not a native? How long have you lived here?”
    Josie tried to keep her voice modulated. “No, I’m not. I came here right after . . . over a dozen years ago.”
    “So you were here during the boom years of the late eighties, when real estate values increased dramatically.”
    “Yes.” Josie decided it was time to get the attention away from her personal life. “But this house was built before that time. This house was built in the midsixties by a developer who put up at least a couple of dozen of these homes, usually doing exactly what he did here—buying up an entire block and filling it with a line of identical little A-frames.
    “There aren’t many left in their original state,” Josie continued, wondering why the questions had stopped. “This job is interesting because instead of tearing down the entire structure and building something new, the owners have chosen to retain parts of the original house. We’re even extending the chimney from the first floor up through the roof of the new addition.”
    Josie didn’t know what else to say, so she stopped talking and waited for Courtney to pick up the ball.
    But Courtney was sitting quietly, looking a bit like she’d adopted some Buddhist practice. There was a slight smile on her lips and her eyes seemed to be focused on something far away in the distance.
    “Cut!” Bobby Valentine ended the moment. “Do you want to do the walk-through of the house now or wait until after lunch?” he asked Courtney.
    “I suppose we may as well block it out now.”
    Josie was amazed by the transformation. When the camera was on, Courtney was bright and alert. But without an imaginary audience, she almost seemed deflated. “Block it out? Do you need me?”
    “What do you think, Court? Do you want to do the walk-through alone or with Josie?”
    Bobby Valentine’s question pulled Courtney back from the vast beyond. Her eyes focused on her