tea sounds terrific.” Randi stepped inside and followed Helena to the kitchen. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person, although our many phone conversations and the enthusiastic manner in which Beverly Ingram has described you make me feel as if we’ve old friends.”
“I’d hoped Bev might be with you,” Helena said. “I know she’s familiar with the rental history of each of the four units as well as the needed repairs and upgrades.”
“She’d planned to join us, but she’s in Little Rock this morning waiting for the arrival of her first grandbaby. A boy. She left me a spreadsheet showing the rental history for the past five years, so we’re good.”
“No problem. A new grandson tops a meeting any day.”
Helena poured two glasses of iced tea and wrapped them in a cloth napkin to catch the condensation.
She’d met Bev on several occasions while visiting Mia. She owned and operated the French Quarter rental management agency that had handled Mia’s four apartments for at least the last decade. Bev had recommended Randi when Helena mentioned selling the house.
“Would you like a tour of the carriage house proper?” Helena asked.
“Absolutely.”
The tour took about thirty minutes and Randi seemed more enthralled with each room they visited, raving not only about the architecture but even the choice of colors, furnishings and artwork.
When they returned to the kitchen, Randi removed her laptop from her briefcase and sat it on the table. “Bev told me this place was a stunner, but this is much grander than I was expecting. From all indications, it’s in excellent condition for a house almost a hundred years old.”
“Mia did a terrific job of keeping it in good repair.”
“That’s important, but as we all know, you can never be certain what kind of structural problems you’ll find when you start checking out these historic houses.”
“A truth we’ve all learned from watching cable house remodeling shows,” Helena admitted. Not that she was too worried about that. Mia’s estate had left Helena more than enough assets to make any needed repairs to the property.
“Who was your grandmother’s decorator?” Randi asked. “I have several clients who could use their advice.”
“Mia was her own decorator, right down to the smallest details. Well, I did give her a few suggestions in the artwork department, but that’s it.”
“Then you both have excellent taste. I love the painting of the young couple running through the rain beneath beautiful French Quarter balconies.”
“Thank you. That’s actually my first prize-winning painting from a high school art contest.”
“You painted that in high school?”
“Eleventh grade.”
“Wow. Such talent. I know you said you were starting a new job at a Boston gallery, but I didn’t know you’d be exhibiting your own work.”
“Hopefully. If not, I’ll just be selling others’ creations and searching for new talent, but even that is exciting.”
“I’m sure you’ll be successful. You obviously had a very talented grandmother, as well. She perfectly captured the historic nature of the home without giving up comfort or convenience. That’s a hard combo to come by.”
“Then you don’t think I’ll have any trouble selling the property for a decent price?”
The awkward silence and the pained expression on Randi’s face said more than words could have.
Helena cringed. “Is the real estate market that bad?”
“It’s not actually the market that’s the problem.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s this particular property, or more to the point it’s that Elizabeth Grayson was staying here with her great-aunt when she was murdered.”
“People still need a place to live,” Helena said, trying to make sense of Randi’s concerns.
“I know, but the media hype isn’t making this any easier. Elizabeth was killed six months ago. The three previous victims of the alleged serial killer were murdered at six-month intervals almost to the day.”
“We’ve passed that date,” Helena said.
“But only by a few days. People who are familiar with the facts are on edge. It’s as if they’re all holding their collective breaths waiting for the killer to strike again.”
Helena’s frustration swelled. “Elizabeth was abducted off the streets. There’s no evidence the killer ever set foot on this property.”
“I’m not saying it’s reasonable,” Randi said, “but I have to level with you. Normally, this house would sell in days, might even set off a bidding war. In this climate of fear, all bets of a quick, lucrative sale are off.”
“In other words, my property has a curse on it until the killer is arrested and there’s nothing I can do about it?”
“Not necessarily. I just want you to be aware that you may be in for some lowball offers if you list the property immediately. If the killer doesn’t strike again, this should blow over in a few months.”
“Renters don’t seem to be afraid of moving in,” Helene said, clutching at the only positive thing she could see. “Bev said there’s a waiting list of prospective renters.”
Randi stared at the well-manicured nails on her left hand for a few seconds before lifting her gaze. “More bad news. The waiting list fell through, according to Bev. Your recently vacated apartment has not been rented. And Connor Harrington in 4-C gave a thirty-day notice yesterday.”
Helena threw up her hands in exasperation. “Connor is single and muscular. I can’t believe he’s afraid of being the serial killer’s next victim.”
“I don’t know what reason he gave, but I’m sure Bev will get back with you in a day or two on that,” Randi explained.
It had taken weeks of soul-searching for Helena to make up her mind to sell her grandmother’s beloved home and now that decision might have to be delayed.
One thing was for certain. She wasn’t going to give Mia’s beautiful home away at below what it was worth just because of the timing.
“I didn’t mean to rain on your parade like this,” Randi said. “We don’t have to decide or sign anything today, but we can talk about how to proceed if you do decide to list with us.”
“I suppose that’s complicated, too.”
“Not at all.”
Helena felt a nagging pain starting at the back of her skull. “I’m a novice at selling real estate, so I have no idea where to start. I suppose I should alert the remaining tenants that I’m putting the house on the market.”
