Making the Rent the Hard Way - 5

 

"Luca Montana?" the receptionist at Lake Westerden Realty said. "He's not one of our sales representatives."

"I know. He's a graphic designer who, from what I understand, was hired to do some work for your agency."

"Ah. Then you should talk to Ms Holden. She's the owner. Let me see if she's available."

Ms Holden was. She came out to meet me in the waiting room, then took me back to her office. When we were seated, she asked the obvious question. "Why are you interested in Mr. Montana?"

"He's missing and I've been hired to find him."

"By whom?"

"I'm sorry. Client confidentiality and all that. The same, I'm sure, as why you wouldn't reveal who was interested in buying a specific piece of property without their say-so."

She smiled. "Understood. What information do you need from me about Mr. Montana?"

"Why did you hire him?"

"I didn't, actually. I was interviewing him about redesigning our advertising brochures and coming up with a new logo for my business." She handed me one of the present brochures and I could see why. It was very mundane. "With so many Realtors in the city, now…" She shook her head. "I swear they're popping up like fleas on a dog. Sorry. Probably not the best analogy, but you get the picture. Anyway, I decided it was time to upgrade to something much more professional."

"And he came up with a design that you liked?"

"Yes and no." Her mouth tightened. "He had several ideas that he sketched out for me on our first meeting. I chose three and asked him to develop them. That's the last I heard from him."

"This was when?"

She checked her calendar. "Three weeks ago yesterday. I've called several times since then but only got his voicemail. Or I did until I got messages that his mailbox was full."

"Did you get any sort of feeling while you were talking with him that something else might be on his mind?"

"You mean, did he lose his concentration occasionally?"

I nodded.

"Not at all," she told me. "He was very professional during the entire interview—asking the right questions, taking notes on my answers, and, as I said, coming up with ideas. I got no sense that he might have been worried about anything other than would I like his suggestions or not."

"All right. Thank you for talking with me."

"I hope you find him and that whatever's going on with him is personal. You know, like a sick parent he suddenly had to go take care of. Not that I'd wish that on him, because I don't. He seemed like a very nice young man, but it would be better than the alternative, like he was attacked, or…" She shrugged.

"That's what I intend to find out," I replied. I thanked her again, asked her to let me know if she heard from him, then left.

I returned to my office just long enough to pick up the file I'd started on Luca, which included the folder Farnham had given me on him and the notes I'd taken during our discussion. From there, I went home since it was almost six, meaning dinner time, as far as I was concerned.

I tossed together a quick tuna thing with mayo and tomatoes on a couple of English muffins, topped them with cheese then broiled them. While I ate, I read Luca's file one more time. Nothing in it popped out at me. Not terribly surprising since all the info came from Farnham, who didn't seem to know all that much about his 'friend', if that's what Luca really was to him. There was no list of who Luca hung out with, nothing about his family—all things a real friend would know.

With that in mind, I knew the first thing I had to do in the morning was run background and credit checks on Luca. But that was then. Right now, I needed some down time so I'd have a working brain tomorrow. I turned on the TV, found a couple of shows I could tolerate, then, when they were over, went to bed.