“I see.”
“They said it would be refundable up to thirty days.”
“That should not be a problem. We can oversee it. Sign a promissory note, and we will wire the money.” Charles was giving her the go-ahead. It would be three days before any banking could be done, regardless.
“Alright. Thank you, Mr. Martin. Enjoy the rest of your day.” Myra stood and walked to the door. When she opened it, Clayton almost fell into the room. Myra had no doubt Clayton was listening, which meant there were no audio devices in that particular office.
“My banker suggested I sign a promissory note, and they will do a wire transfer. I trust that will be acceptable. You can phone my banker if you want confirmation.”
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll draw up the papers in a jiffy. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Water?”
“Water with lemon, no ice, please,” Myra replied.
“Coming right up!” Clayton practically waltzed out of the room. In three days, there would be a chunk of change in the account. That should please her nephew. He’d been in a vile mood lately, pressuring her to rent more units or sell more drugs. Ever since that Jeremy kid got wise to the shortages, they had to lay low for a while. Up until then, they were collecting an easy five thousand a month they added to their other “ventures.”
Things had been running smoothly during the pandemic. Bodies were moving as fast as the Indy 500. But now, they were down to a handful.
She suggested a scheme to visit oncology suites where patients were getting chemotherapy. The person would pretend to be waiting for a family member and go on about how they were moving them to a wonderful care facility at Sunnydale. Then they would show them beautiful, glossy brochures. “Wouldn’t you rather be somewhere like this?” was their tagline. Surprisingly, it worked rather often. The only hitch was finding people who had no family to intervene. When they were successful, they received a generous bonus. They were the latest edition of ambulance chasers. But Max put the brakes on that one. It was too complicated and required too much coordination.
A few minutes passed, and giddy Edith returned with a small tray that held a Barre carafe filled with water, a matching tumbler, and a matching bowl with several wedges of lemons.They really put on the Ritz, Myra thought to herself. “Thank you.”
“Let’s finish up all this bothersome paperwork, shall we?” Clayton grinned.
“Yes.” Myra scribbled her fake name. Not only was it not-so-legal, it was also illegible. Perfect. She handed the folder back to Edith, who couldn’t wait to get her mitts on it.
“What do we do next?” Myra asked sweetly.
“I’ll give you a set of keys. If you don’t mind, we will put you in the villa you saw today. That is, if you don’t mind the furniture. When you decide to move in permanently—see, I said ‘decide to move in,’ because I know you are going to love it here—then you can choose whatever style you want.”
“That sounds like a splendid idea.” Myra so wanted to use her fake British accent. “I’ll go back to my hotel and have my things sent over. Will that be alright?”
“Perfect.” Clayton clutched the folder against her chest as if someone might rip it from her fingers.That would come soon enough.
“And what about the open house? Will you be showing the one I am staying in?”
“Oh, absolutely not!” Edith gasped. “They are all similar models. The only difference is the exposure. Yours has a northern one. Keeps the place a little cooler.”
“I see. Well, thank you, Ms. Clayton, I mean Edith. You have been most helpful.”
“My pleasure. When you unpack your things, please give me a jingle, and I can go over the weekend events we have planned.”
“Sounds delightful. Thanks again.” Myra got up from her seat and placed the folder with her copies of the agreement into her Louis Vuitton tote bag.
Edith walked Myra to the main entrance, where her car was waiting. “Chat later!”
Myra waved and sped off. She wanted to get back as soon as possible. She hadn’t unpacked everything, so shoving her toiletries into her bag wouldn’t take but a few minutes.
Facilities Building
Yoko and Danny did their morning evaluation of the property. It entailed driving up and down all of the paths, checking for plants that needed attention. They stopped several times to pluck a few dead leaves off the hibiscus, trim a few branches, and spray for bugs, if they found any. On a normal day, the process would take approximately two hours. Yoko took down notes while Danny drove. In some instances, they had to return to some areas to replace something. By the time they made the rounds, it was noon. Lunch break. Also, Yoko’s opportunity to go back and check out that truck’s bumper, if all went according to her plan.
As they were walking into the warehouse, Yoko asked Danny if it was necessary for them to change. She doubted they provided more than one small uniform since the day before. “I hardly have a speck on me.” Yoko looked down at her pants.
“I suppose it’s okay, but you can’t go into the lunchroom.”
“Can you do me a favor? I brought my lunch and put it in the refrigerator. Would you mind grabbing it for me? I don’t mind eating out here.”
Danny shrugged. “Sure. No problem. I’ll be right back.”
