Tommy was seated outside on a plastic chair when we reentered the complex. Once he recognized Bridget in my passenger seat, he smashed the joint he was holding into a piece of snow on the sidewalk and walked over to the passenger side. She got out, and they embraced.
“I missed you, baby,” he said.
“I’m sorry; I should have told you everything from the start.”
He brushed a tear from her cheek. “You’re here now, and that’s all that matters to me.” Tommy leaned into the car and looked at me. “Thanks for bringing her home lady. We cool?”
I nodded.
“Take good care of her.”
He shaped his hand into a fist and held it out to me. It took a few moments for me to realize what I was supposed to do, and then I recalled seeing a famous actor doing it on TV. I made a fist and we bumped. It was a simple gesture, but it made me feel young again nonetheless.
I backed out of the parking lot, waving a goodbye to Bridget and hoping she’d heed the warnings I gave her about staying out of sight and by Tommy’s side until I could get some answers, the first of which I hoped to get from Vicki.
I took out my cell phone and dialed. A chipper, young female voice on the other end of the line said, “Ellis & Marshall Real Estate, can I help you?”
“Vicki Novak, please.”
“She’s not in the office at the moment.”
“When do you expect her?” I said.
“I’m not sure, can I take a message?”
I declined and turned the car around.
* * * * *
I entered the small office of Walker Appraisal at one minute to noon. A young girl with a body shaped like a baby elephant sat behind the desk. Her cell phone was glued to her hand, and she was typing at a rate too fast for me to comprehend.
I walked over to the counter and leaned over just enough to disrupt her sense of privacy.
“Can I help you?”
“I have an appointment with Travis Walker,” I said.
“He’s not back yet.” She gestured with her cell phone over to some chairs. “You can sit there and wait for him.”
I sat, and she swiveled her seat around so that her back faced me and went back to typing away. So much for hospitality.
Ten minutes went by and still no sign of Mr. Walker.
“Excuse me,” I said. “Do you have any idea where he is at the moment?”
The girl wound her chair back around and shook her head.
“Can you find out?”
She tapped hard on the keys on her cell phone for a minute and then tossed it to the side and picked up the office phone. She waited several seconds and then rolled her eyes and hung up.
“He didn’t answer. I don’t know what to tell ya.”
It was easy to see why Charlotte rarely used his services. With her cell phone to the side, I took advantage of the situation.
“Have you worked here long?” I said.
She placed both elbows on the table in front of her and cocked her head to the side.
“Off and on. I help out with the phones.”
“Someone I know referred me, Vicki Novak. Do you know her?”
She sprung forward in her chair. “She a friend of yours?”
“Someone I know, why?” I said.
“Because Vicki Novak’s a home-wrecking bitch.”
It wasn’t where I thought the conversation would go when I’d started it, but I wanted her to talk, so I dumbed myself down and climbed aboard the “bitch” train.
“We were supposed to do a couple deals together, but she talked to my clients behind my back and now they’re listing with her,” I said. “I haven’t spoken to her since.”
It wasn’t the most elaborate lie I’d ever told, but I hoped it was good enough to get more information out of her.
She leaned over the counter and glared at me. “Vicki Novak is a slut; I hate her!”
A bitch and a slut. Interesting.
“I take it you know her personally,” I said.
“Not me, my dad.”
“Your dad?”
“Yeah,” she said, pointing to the sign on the door.
Travis Walker was her dad. It made perfect sense now.
“I take it your dad and Vicki were involved?” I said.
“Things were great until she came in one day asking him to do some appraisals for her, and then she started calling him all the time. One time she asked him to come over so she could talk to him about one of the houses, and he didn’t come home until the next day. My mom told me he’d already left for work when I got up in the morning, but I’m not stupid.”
“It must be hard on you, and your mom,” I said.
“I can take care of myself. I don’t need him. I don’t need anyone.”
It was obvious she didn’t mean a word of it. She was just angry, and lashing out was her way of relieving some of the tension.
The cell phone on the desk vibrated, and she reached over, typed some words on the keyboard and threw it back down again.
“Does your dad still see Vicki?”
She shook her head.
“What about your mom?” I said.
“My dad moved out, and my mom filed for divorce last week.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Have you talked to your dad about it?”
She shook her head.
“The only reason I’m at the office is because my mom thinks we need to spend time together, but he’s never even here. And when he is, he acts all weirded out or something.”
Or something seemed a lot more likely to me.
The office door opened and in walked a tall man around my age who looked like he’d been fasting for several days. His eyes darted from the desk to the chair where I sat.
“Are you my twelve o’clock appointment?”
I nodded.
He shifted his notebook from one hand to the other and stuck his hand out to me.
“I hope you haven’t been here long.”
“Twenty-five minutes or so; are you in the habit of making your clients wait?” I said.
From the look on his face, he was taken aback by my frankness,
“I’m sorry; I hope I haven’t messed up your day.”
I didn’t respond. There was nothing like a few moments of awkward silence to get things going.
He swung his arm in the direction of the hall, although it looked more like the outside of a doorway than anything.
“Why don’t we step into my office?”
He entered the office, and I got the sudden urge to powder my nose. I stepped into the bathroom, stood in front of the mirror and did nothing. When I felt my time had achieved its desired effect, I made my exit.
If his office offered any indication about his own personal style, he was in dire need of some. Everything was brown, from the walls to the outdated carpeting. Even the trim was brown. A solitary window about the size of a cereal box offered the only light into the room.
“What can I do for you, Mrs. Monroe?”
“It’s Miss. And you can tell me how you came to work for Vicki Novak,” I said.
“Sorry? I thought you came in on behalf of a client who needed some appraisal work done.”
“Let me get to the point, Mr. Walker. We have a mutual client in common, Charlotte Halliwell. Know her?”
He made a face like someone who had just seen their mug shot on television and had no idea they were wanted.
“The name sounds familiar, but I don’t work with her much.”
“And Vicki Novak?” I said. “What about her?”
He broke eye contact and shifted positions in his seat. I reached into my bag and pulled out the files. They made a slapping sound when they landed on the desk.
“Are you sure you don’t know Vicki, because I think you do.”
“What do you want from me?”
“How about the truth?” I said.
“And you think if you chuck a few files on my desk I’ll give it to you?”
“You’re busted, Mr. Walker. Was it worth it?” I said.
“I think you have me confused with someone else.”
“Right,” I said. “And I suppose you were never romantically involved with Vicki either.”
“Of course not!”
“Funny, your daughter seems to think so, and your wife.”
“She’s a teenager. They lie all the time.”
I picked the files up from the desk, leaned back in the chair and crossed my legs.
“Perhaps. I’m headed over to speak with Jack Montgomery. And after I speak to him, I’m going to give the real estate board a call.”
I stood.
“Nice meeting you, Mr. Walker.”
I turned toward the door.
“Wait.”