3rd World Products, Book 16 (5 page)

I asked, “Anything wrong?”
 

Glancing up, she said, “Yeah, something’s wrong. I won’t be showing the condo. They put a deposit on another place.”
 

“Bummer. What does that do to the rest of your day?”
 

Pausing before zipping the case shut, Tanya said, “I guess I’ll go home. There’s no point in going back to the office. I was supposed to be off today anyway.”
 

She started to pick up the case, then canceled the motion and just stared at it for a moment.
 

With a sigh, she said, “I have half a mind to go in on Monday and quit. If I didn’t need every damned dime I can scrape together right now, I think I would.”
 

As I sat down, she said, “Some of the properties I’ve had to show this week should be condemned, not sold. Except that I didn’t make any commissions, I’m just as glad nobody bought them. I’d rather not be associated with them.”
 

“A functional conscience can be a hindrance in your line of work, ma’am.” She gave me a droll gaze. I said, “And switching companies won’t change the available listings.”
 

“So you’re saying what..? That I should find some other kind of job altogether?”
 

“Not necessarily. Freelancers can specialize.”
 

Her left eyebrow arched. “This job is hard enough.”
 

“Think about it. Is there even one little thing you’ve done that really required being with a big company? Couldn’t you have handled everything yourself?”
 

“The showing, yes. The paperwork, yes. But finding clients takes advertising.
Lots
of advertising.”
 

“That’s just one way to fish, milady. There are many others, and maybe there’s another one that suits you better. Say you heard a company was definitely moving to Florida. How would you reach the employees who’d be moving with it? Figure they’d be middle management or above.”
 

“Well, I guess that would depend on… No, it wouldn’t. Bottom line, new people would be coming here.” Eyeing me, she asked, “How would
you
reach them?”
 

“I’d use other-than-usual methods to initiate a meeting. No blind calls, no introductory emails. No fancy brochures. I’d go in person and contrive a meeting with someone there. Preferably more than one of them.”
 

She echoed, “You’d ‘contrive’ a meeting? That sounds a little devious, doesn’t it?”
 

“Yup. But you’re bitching about having to show bad properties, so I’d say it doesn’t matter how you meet potential clients. You won’t knowingly sell rotten apples, right?”
 

Tanya’s left eyebrow arched again as she regarded me briefly, then she asked, “So how would you do it?”
 

“I’d recon the company on the Net. Moving when? To where? Get names of the brass moving with it. Recon their new location. Find out about utilities and routine necessities. Figure out how to make anyone’s move as painless as possible. Locate rentals because most of them probably won’t be hot to buy right away. They’ll have too much other stuff to think about. Then I’d go up there and…”
 

She interrupted, “Go up there?! Without making some contacts first?”
 

Raising an index finger, I said, “Whoa. Don’t panic yet. They’re moving to Florida, which means some of them will have properties listed up there, right?”
 

Tanya subsided thoughtfully. “Yes, it probably would.”
 

“And you could show some interest in those properties. Make some calls, make some contacts. A lot of people from Florida buy land in North Carolina. It’s kind of a standing joke in some areas.”
 

With a skeptical gaze, she asked, “Really? Which areas?”
 

“The mountains I visit every summer, for example. Run a property sale records search for Graham County. You’ll see where a lot of the out-of-state owners live for seven to nine months of the year. They want the scenery, but not the hard winters or the state income tax.”
 

In moderate disbelief, she echoed, “A
state
income tax?”
 

“Yup. Most states have them. Florida and a very few other states don’t.”
 

Still skeptical, she asked, “Would you mind if I verify some of this? I mean, right now?”
 

I shrugged and sighed, “Sure. Go for it. I’ll just sit here and feel all hurt and dejected ‘cuz you didn’t believe me.”
 

Tanya snorted a laugh. “Sure you will.”
 

She took out her laptop and spent some time searching, then let her hands fall to her lap and muttered, “Good Lord. Nearly a quarter of the land sales there last year show Florida permanent addresses.”
 

“Think you can use this info?”
 

Turning her face to me, Tanya said firmly, “Oh, I definitely think so. One way or another. This might keep me in the real estate business for a while longer.”
 

“What did you do before this?”
 

She shook her head. “Nothing, really. Until my husband died last year, I only ever had part time and temporary jobs. Insurance covered almost everything, but all of a sudden I had some big bills to pay. A friend in real estate suggested I go back to school for it.”
 

She sipped what was left of her drink and said, “I managed to sell the house. Now I’m renting. It’s only a little cheaper, but at least I have some cash in savings. I…”
 

Stopping suddenly, Tanya looked at me and asked, “Why am I telling you all this?”
 

I shrugged. “You seem to need some company, that’s all. Someone smart enough to talk with who won’t look for an angle or try to talk you into bed or worry that the pretty widow lady will make her husband do something stupid.”
 

Tanya blinked at me. “
That’s
what you think, huh?”
 

“That’s pretty much why I said it, ma’am.”
 

Looking very skeptical, she said, “But you — a man who was just staring at my legs a while ago… oh, excuse me, ‘admiring’, you called it… You’re saying
you
wouldn’t try to get me into
bed? What’s wrong with that picture?”
 

Meeting her gaze, I said, “Tanya, I was eyeballing your legs ‘cuz they’re very nice legs. In fact, they’re just about perfect, I’d say, but that doesn’t mean I absolutely have to try to get between them. I wouldn’t turn down a freely-offered opportunity to lick you silly, either, but sometimes people need the kind of company you don’t usually find in a bedroom. You’re well aware you’re a hottie, so I doubt you need constant male attention as validation. Seems to me you need some useful support right now a helluva lot more than a dose of flattery and a roll in the hay.”
 

She just stared at me for a moment, then it became obvious she was trying to contain a grin. She struggled against it for another moment, then snickered, “
Lick me silly?
”
 

With a slight nod and my best Texas drawl, I replied, “That’s just a handy euphemism, ma’am.”
 

Tanya sort of blurted, “Hah!” and cracked up laughing. She shut down her laptop and put it in its case, zipped it shut with a flourish that almost knocked her cup off the table, and said firmly, “I’m taking the rest of the day off.”
 

Looking at me, she said, “Now all I have to do is figure out what to do with it. Did you have any plans?”
 

I shrugged. “Well, I
was
gonna figure out how to save the world this afternoon, but I guess that can wait.”
 

She laughed, “Sure it can. It’ll still need saving later.”
 

“Yeah, seems likely. So what’s the agenda? Want to go somewhere or do something?”
 

As if expecting a punch line, her eyebrow went up again as she asked, “Do you have any suggestions?”
 

“Nope. I’m a stranger in this town, too. I was just out riding around.” Gesturing generally south, I added, “Home is about forty miles that way.”
 

Tanya stood up, gestured northeast, and said, “Mine’s about the same distance that way. It’s too bad we’ve already had lunch. Do you drink?”
 

“I could probably manage a beer or two.”
 

Grinning, she nodded, hung her purse on one shoulder and her laptop on the other, and said, “Good. Let’s go. I know a place near a lake on forty-one. Just follow me north.”
 

While she got into her car and I started my bike, I linked to my orbital core and gave it her license plate number. The plate matched the car, which was registered to a Tanya Conner of Ocala.
 

As we left the parking lot, I pulled up a copy of Tanya Conner’s driver’s license and the picture matched the lady in the car. DOB 11 July 1975, so I’d guessed her age almost exactly. She also had a real estate license, but it was over five years old, not the year or so she’d led me to think. Her hubby’s death checked out, though, just under a year ago.
 

Athena pinged me. I answered, “Yes’m?”
 

“May I ask why you felt a need to vet Miss Conner?”
 

“Sure. My strong sense of familiarity. Her friendly acceptance and sharing of her personal info a bit too quickly, despite the circumstances. No comments or questions at all about my bike or its cooler. No questions about me, yet despite that info vacuum and our substantial age difference, she’s apparently leading me to a bar outside of town.”
 

With a soft chuckle, Athena replied, “My, we’re feeling a little paranoid today. Couldn’t she simply have a friendly, trusting nature and no interest at all in motorcycles?”
 

“Oh, sure, but she’d also need more than a passing interest in much older men. Her car has an online help package that phones home periodically. Would you care to check its records and see if it’s been in Spring Hill lately?”
 

She chuckled, “Oh, of course, sir. At once, sir.”
 

As she did that, I realized one of the reasons for my sense of familiarity. The name Connor had finally clicked. Tanya looked and sounded very much like Marie Conner, who’d married Air Force Sgt. Brian Baker while they were in Germany in 1972. Tanya almost had to be their daughter.
 

Athena very shortly pinged me again and said, “Her car was parked at a motel in Spring Hill last night.”
 

I chuckled, “So I’m just being paranoid, huh? It was chilly last night and there’s nowhere she could park in my neighborhood that wouldn’t draw attention. Seems likely she planted a camera where it wouldn’t be noticed and let her laptop monitor the house for motion.”
 

“Ed, a camera capable of relaying usable data to a motion sensing program would be hard to conceal.”
 

“You’re thinking of crisp, clear pictures, ma’am. All she’d need are shapes on a webcam. Capture my webpage pic of me on the bike, crop it, and use it as a template. Use one of those tiny spot cameras. Just aim it at the front yard and wait for something that fits the outline to appear. Stick the camera under the mailbox across the street for concealment. Did you catch my thought about Marie Conner?”
 

“As you know, I no longer monitor your thoughts. One moment.” Athena’s ‘moment’ lasted only a split-second. She said, “I see. What are you going to do?”
 

I shrugged. “Have a beer or two. See if she’ll share what’s on her mind. See how far she’ll go to establish a connection. Try to find out why she wants one at all.”
 

Tanya’s car signaled and turned right ahead. I followed her to a lakefront bar and grill near some condos and a golf course. As I parked beside her, Tanya shot me a cheery grin and opened her door.
 

Chapter Four
 

Tanya pulled her laptop bag to the driver’s side and slung it on her shoulder, then led the way to the bar’s front doors. I noted she stood almost my height, partly the result of three-inch heels. The interior of the place was neat and clean, but unremarkable. Nothing particularly unique; it was intended to be a place for golfers to chat, and half a dozen of them were doing just that.
 

At least it was quiet. The juke box was silent and the TVs weren’t blaring sports crap. We passed the bar and a waitress let us chose a table by the porch’s back wall and sit down before she visited us. Tanya ordered a Pauli Girl and I ordered a Bud draft because they didn’t have Icehouse.
 

Something splashed near the small dock. No boats, no people, just a dock extending a few yards offshore. A plastic table and a few similar chairs decorated the end. There were moderately expensive houses to one side of the lake and expanses of mowed green on the other. Turning my gaze to Tanya, I found her looking back at me.
 

“Yes’m?”
 

She shook her head. “Oh, nothing. I just realized I’m sitting at a table with a man I know almost nothing about. Your name’s Ed, you ride a motorcycle, and you fix computers.”
 

Heh. Game time.
 

I replied, “Ah. Yes. Well, I’m in the same boat, y’know. Your name’s Tanya, you sell real estate, and your computer needed fixed.” As an afterthought, I added, “And you’re gorgeous. And you dress well. Bet you can’t say the same about me.”
 

Tanya grinned and chuckled. “No, I can’t, but I
can
say you look pretty comfortable without a jacket and tie.”
 

Grinning back, I said, “Yes, ma’am. Very comfortable.”
 

She sighed wryly, “I wish I was. On the way here I began to wonder what the hell I was doing, hooking up with a strange man this far from home.”