She sucked in air through her teeth then asked, “Are you doing something dangerous?”
I sure hoped not.
“No. It’s just a precaution,” I lied. Of course, I knew that Sandra had killed before—twice!—and that there was no guarantee she wouldn’t turn on me once she found out I’d uncovered and planned to expose her crimes.
“I guess it’s always good to have a backup plan,” Mom said resignedly. “I’ll be up there soon.”
“Okay,” I responded. “Call me when you get there. My phone may be off, but I’ll call back as soon as I can. And Mom?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I took a deep breath and turned to Octo-Cat. “There,” I said. “Now my mom’s cell is the last number in your call history. Call her if there’s any trouble, okay?”
His face looked grim. Whether he was finally beginning to see just how dangerous this situation could be for me or simply upset about the car ride, I couldn’t say for sure.
The only thing I could say for sure was that we were going to catch a killer today. No matter what.
Chapter Nineteen
“It’s go time,” I muttered from the front seat of my car, which now sat parked in the small lot outside Lighthouse Realty & Brokerage. My hands shook as I grabbed my striped wicker bag from the passenger seat floor well and held it open for Octo-Cat to climb inside.
He growled but otherwise complied without too much complaint.
“Remember, your iPad is tucked into the back pocket,” I informed him. “I’ll keep your bag on my lap. If there’s an emergency, jump out and knock the bag off my lap. That should make the iPad fall out onto the floor so you can use it.”
“Understood,” he said. “But what if it ends up upside down?”
“Let’s pray it doesn’t,” I said, wishing I would have seen this flaw in my plan earlier. But we were here now, and I had to take action.
“Just put it in the bag next to me,” he said, popping his head out of the bag to study me.
“But you don’t like things touching you,” I pointed out.
“It’s an inconvenience, yes. But it would be much more inconvenient if you died and I had to train another human on my likes and dislikes.”
“Aww, so you do love me, after all!” I cooed, slipping the iPad out of the back pocket and into the main compartment of the bag.
“Enough with the mushy stuff. Get in there and catch the bad guy,” he said, lowering himself back into position.
Right. I took another deep breath and clambered out of the car, adjusting the bag carefully over my shoulder as I approached the front door. Hopefully Sandra would be in. I hadn’t called ahead, preferring to play things by ear. Yes, I didn’t have much of a plan, but hoped the acting genes in my family would come in handy.
When I pushed through the glass door, a little bell chimed to announce my arrival. The office smelled pleasant like warm vanilla, and the waiting area was flanked with two overstuffed couches and an inviting array of magazines. It even had a mini cooler filled with bottled water, several kinds of soda, and coffee shots.
Seeing that no one was waiting at the front desk, I took the opportunity to snag one of the cold coffee shots. Maybe I could buy these for myself at home. I popped the can open and took an appreciative swig, downing the entire thing in three big gulps.
Liquid courage?
I sure hoped so.
“Hello, and welcome to Lighthouse Realty & Brokerage,” a woman’s voice greeted me from across the room. “How can we help you?”
I glanced over and immediately recognized Sandra Lynn with her unmistakable curly red hair and that huge smile that I now knew hid dark secrets. I grabbed the straps on my bag, needing the connection to Octo-Cat to keep my wits about me and stay on task.
“Good afternoon,” I said with what I hoped was a pleasant smile. “I’m here because I’d like to buy a house.”
Sandra laughed, and the sound was startlingly shrill. I wonder if I would have been so put off by it without the knowledge of her after-hours criminal activity. “Well, I can certainly help with that. Why don’t you come on back to my office?” She began taking sure, steady strides down the hall, and I followed after.
“You’re in luck,” she prattled on over her shoulder as we walked. “Usually walk-ins have to deal with one of our junior agents, but I just so happened to have a cancellation this afternoon. As the owner of this realty and the most experienced agent, I’ll make sure you have the house of your dreams in no time at all.”
She simpered at me as she stopped and waited for me to enter the small, dimly lit office ahead of her.
“That is lucky,” I said with a polite smile of my own.
“What’s your name, dear? And will this be your first time purchasing?” Sandra took a seat behind her desk and leaned forward slightly as we spoke.
“I’m Angela,” I said, reaching forward to shake her hand. It wasn’t quite a lie, but it wasn’t quite the truth. Nobody called me Angela except Octo-Cat—and even then he only did it on occasion. “Yes, it’s my first time,” I finished.
“Well, let me give you a run-down of the basics,” Sandra said, launching into a lengthy monologue that gave me time to search the office with my eyes. Nothing stood out as being particularly incriminating, but I hadn’t exactly expected to find a bloody hammer sitting on top of her desk, either.
Sandra finished her speech and waited for me to say something, but I hadn’t been paying close enough attention to figure out what.
“What are you looking for, dear?” she repeated. Her smile faltered somewhat as she waited for me to keep up my end of the exchange.
“Um…” I thought back to all the mental gymnastics Charles, Nan, Mitch, and I had done of the car ride home to Glendale. They all centered around the question: What reason could a realtor possibly have to kill her clients? Money seemed the safest bet. I didn’t understand what all that entailed but decided to broach the subject delicately.
“I’d really like a nice three bedroom, but I’m worried I may not have enough money to make my dream house a reality.”
She frowned briefly before shaking her head and bringing back the smile. “That’s okay. We can work around it. What’s your credit like?”
“It’s pretty bad.” Unfortunately, that part wasn’t a lie.
She pressed her coral-colored lips together in a flat line. “Hmm.”
“Is there anything you can do to help?” I asked, calling up my best impression of a desperate aspiring homeowner.
Sandra stiffened, taking a moment before answering. “There are government programs that may be able to help get you into a house. Your interest rate probably won’t be that good, but that’s the case for a lot of first-time buyers.”
“Okay,” I said helplessly.
“Why did you decide to buy now if money is so tight?” she asked.
I had to think fast to avoid suspicion, so I said the first thing that popped into my head. “Well, with my current rental, it feels like me and my cat are living on top of each other. We need some more space. Oh, and I have a dog, too. A Yorkie.”
She blanched at this and swallowed before letting that shrill laugh loose again. “Sounds like you have your hands fall,” she said.
I’m not sure if I imagined it, but she definitely faltered upon the mention of “my” Yorkie. If I could push this topic a little further, maybe I could unsettle her enough to trick her into a confession.
“Are you a dog person?” I asked, hugging my bag tight on my lap to reassure Octo-Cat, who no doubt hated not being able to join this particular conversation. After all, one of his favorite pastimes since meeting Yo-Yo was pointing out how superior cats are to dogs.
“I watched a dog for a friend once,” Sandra answered, turning away from me to organize some papers. “I’m not sure I’m cut out for a dog companion myself, but since you are, let’s get you a place with a fenced-in yard.” She handed me a printed-out list triumphantly.