Page 4 of Safer Alone
They nod in unison. Taking each other’s hands, they walk back toward the second level of the home; no doubt back to the master bedroom that captured Jessica’s full attention at first sight.
I retrieve my cell phone from my skirt pocket and notice that my notification screen is advising that I have a new email. I unlock my phone. The email shows that it is from an Elliot Sands. For some reason, that name rings a bell. I know that I have heard it somewhere; it isn’t someone I was currently dealing with, though. Maybe someone from the past? Wracking my brain, I just can’t place it. Giving up on that angle, instead I consider another possibility. It might be my client for tomorrow’s viewing, the mysterious interested party that I will be meeting at the Belle Meade Homestead. I proceed to open the email.
Dear Miss White,
My assistant looked at the house located in Belle Mead, with you earlier today and has arranged a viewing for me tomorrow at 2:30 pm.
It was advised that I send you the appropriate contact details, as you require them before our meeting.
Please see below all the information you will need.
Until tomorrow.
Regards,
Elliot Sands
CEO Sands PTY Limited
I was correct, it is for tomorrow’s viewing. At least he didn’t waste time sending this. He is punctual, a trait I respect. I hope that it also means that he is interested in the property.
I can see within his signature that he had his details noted, I quickly forward it to my work computer at the office. It is required that they have the details of any clients we meet with, for safety reasons. Jenny, my assistant, will check my computer on Monday morning, more than likely before I even get into the office. This procedure had been brought in by our boss, Sandra, for the safety of each of us agents. We work out in the field, after all, and we could be meeting a serial killer for all we knew. It had happened a couple of years ago, an agent conducted an open house. She was found later that afternoon by the homeowners, bludgeoned to death on the living room floor. It was later discovered that she was, in fact, murdered by someone who had attended that day’s viewing.
It made complete sense to me, and to be honest I was one of the agents who felt better knowing that if something ever did happen, they would know where we were and who we were with; all being well that the person attending provided us with the correct details. It was so easy nowadays to create a fake identity, after all. Identity theft was running wild, not just across the country, but across the world. All it took was someone to steal one of your bills from your mailbox.
I can see a phone number and an address for his workplace at the bottom of the email. The address seems vaguely familiar. I click on the link and sure enough, it is. A photograph of the address comes up, it is a gothic style sandstone structure with cathedral windows to the front. I remembered it well as I had taken a photo of this architectural beauty on one of my last days in New York.
It is located in an area that I used to drive past most weeks on my way to Dylan’s apartment. I don’t need to think about that right now, though. It seems a lifetime ago.
I shake my head in an effort to clear those thoughts from my mind. I am wracking my brain trying to remember the name of the building. The photo showed a sign, but at the angle it was taken, it was almost illegible. I pinch then pull the photograph on my screen, in an effort to zoom in on the sign. I can barely make it out. Sands Tower, possibly? If it does indeed share a name with this Elliot fellow, then it is more than likely not just a coincidence that he works there. He might be some relation to the person who owns it possibly, or maybe he owns the building himself?
Returning to the matter at hand, I look around to make sure that Liam and Jess are still out of sight. Seeing that I am still alone, I set to the task of writing a quick, polite reply,
Dear Mr. Sands,
Thank you for your email. I will see you at 2:30 pm tomorrow at the Belle Meade Homestead.
If you require directions to the property, or for some reason are unable to make the appointment, I request that you please let me know as soon as possible.
I look forward to meeting with you.
Warm Regards,
Angela White
Licensed Real Estate Agent, Nashville Realty
Once I hit send, I quickly scroll to see if any other important emails have come in before closing out of the program. I decide that it would be beneficial to try to do some research on this Elliot Sands fellow tonight, in the hope that I would be better prepared for tomorrow’s meeting. Of course, this all depends on if I could find anything about him online, that is.
Being a CEO of a company meant there should be some sort of footprint on the internet about him; an interview with Forbes, maybe a biography of him in the Wall Street Journal. I may even hit the jackpot and spot a photograph or two. The other choice I have is to look at his company’s own website. Surely, they will have a write-up about the company’s founder.
Nowadays, if you are even remotely famous you will appear on Wikipedia. Luckily for me I’m not, so you won’t find anything at all if you type my name into a search engine. Nothing personal, anyway. I don’t have any social media accounts, so all you will find on me are any properties I have for sale at the time.
As I am placing my phone back into my pocket, I hear Liam and Jessica enter the dining room together. Once they are right in front of me, they look at each other and then Liam breaks the silence.
“Well, Ange, we have had a talk about it and we want to know if you can…help us with the paperwork?”
I smile at my friends and reach out to place one of my hands on each of their shoulders, “Of course I can. I’m so glad it’s what you have been looking for!”
