Read Online Catharine Bramkamp - Real Estate Diva 05 - A 380 Degree View by Catharine Bramkamp - Free Book Online

he does know I have a family, but the accident could be recent - today.” Her expression brightened. “They could have a terrible accident today and the bodies burned beyond recognition.  A closed casket service, of course, no, just the memorial service. I could say they requested closed casket in their will!”
    She was quite cheered by the scenario.
    This may sound harsh; we all love our parents, especially if they live in another state.  Carrie grew up on the other side of the tracks of Rivers Bend. If the Ridge existed in Sonoma County, that’s where her parents would live, that’s where all refugees from responsibility and legal drugs hide.  Carrie only let her background slip once.  From what I can guess, both from allusions and late night conversations including one when she let it rip that if I thought my situation was stressful, try abuse, try a mother who turned her back. She begged me never to mention that slip up again, and I haven’t.   Carrie left home too young, but sometimes a girl needs to escape and save herself.  And good friends do not insist that you relive the worst parts of your life.
    It’s part of our pirate code. 
     
    I picked up the Supra key from the New Century Office on my way to the Library to pick up Scott.
    The New Century office in Claim Jump was located on Main Street and had a perfect view of Hank’s Roadhouse. Three desks were illuminated by the watery afternoon sunlight but not one was occupied. A woman perched at the front desk as if her presence there was temporary.  She greeted me as I entered.
    “Hi, you must be Allison, your office just called, your manager was pretty enthusiastic.”
    “I’m sure she was. Thank you for loaning me a key.” I rummaged around my purse for my wallet and ID.
    This local New Century agent was tall, taller than me, and was dressed in formal Claim Jump business attire: jeans and matching jean jacket with New Century embroidered over the left pocket.
    “No problem, we’ve lost enough agents during the downturn so we had a few keys just floating around.”  She pulled out a manual key, a chunky piece of equipment the size of an ancient cell phone and handed it to me. The four-digit code allowing me to enter any house in Nevada County was written in ink on masking tape and stuck to the back.
    “Do you need a deposit? Want me to sign anything?” I flipped open my wallet to my ID and dug out my DRE card.  I glanced around for a form to fill out; I was prepared to write a check for the privilege of the loan.
    “Oh no, just return it before you go back to the Bay Area. I know your grandmother.”
    “Well, thanks!”
    I dropped the key into my purse and headed up to the parking lot to meet Scott. My phone (much smaller than the key) buzzed.
    “I’m running late. Dinner?”
    “Works for me, Carrie’s here.”
    “Did she call Patrick?”  Ben asked.
    I paused by my car. Scott saw me and headed down from the library doors, locking it behind him.
    “I still haven’t heard about the sale outcome,” Scott complained as he approached my car. Are people around here always slow to get back to you?”
    “Why, did Patrick call you?”  I asked Ben.
    “We’ll talk, can you tell Patrick she’s here?”
    “I’m with a client, can you call, tell him she’s fine.   I don’t want him freaking out.”  It started to rain again; I unlocked the passenger door for Scott and hurried around to my side.
    “Sure, how are you doing?”  Ben asked conversationally.  It sounded on the surface as conversation, but there was far more loaded into that sentence.
    “I told you, I’m with a client.”  I wrestled with the door and hopped in.
    “I’ll call him.” He understood my sitation immediately. “See you tonight.” 
     
    “What if your bid is accepted for the library? Didn’t that require an all cash offer?”
    “Yes, that’s why they agreed to let me make a bid.” Scott confirmed.
    “And you have more?”  I meant money;