It might simply be someone enjoying the view. Or it might be someone casing his next hit.
She dug out her viaphone and contacted the local police station, asking them to investigate. Better safe than sorry, especially if her new acquisition was one of the houses being cased.
She turned and walked downstairs. The agent bustled back inside and motioned her toward the dilapidated kitchen bench.
She'd contacted her solicitor earlier, getting him to do a quick check on the property. Everything was legit. Still, just to be safe, she scanned the countless forms with her viaphone and sent them on, refusing to sign anything until he'd given the all clear. Only then did she key in her bank details and transfer the funds. The house was hers.
"It'll take a day or so for this paperwork to go through and be fully registered," he said, and held out the keys. "I'll pass everything on to your solicitor to be double checked, of course."
She took the keys, an odd feeling of elation bubbling through her. "Thanks."
He nodded. "You going to hang around a while?"
She glanced at her watch and regretfully shook her head.
"Can't. I'm working tonight."
He nodded again and held out his hand. "Pleasure doing business with you."
The relief in his voice made her grin. "They make you say that, don't they?"
His startled smile showed a hint of true warmth. "First lesson," he said cheerfully.
She checked the doors, ensuring everything was locked, and then followed him out. At her rental car, she stopped and breathed deep the heady aroma of eucalyptus and the salty hint of sea. Excitement pulsed through her. The scent of home.
God, how she wished she didn't have to go back to the city and Wetherton.
Before the call to stay overwhelmed her common sense, she climbed into the car, and headed back to the city. She hadn't yet reached the toll way when she spotted the Toyota again.
It wasn't a thief and it wasn't a tourist. It was someone tailing her. She watched the car in the rear-view mirror for several minutes, then retrieved the viaphone from her pocket.
"Christine," she said, when the SIU's dusky-skinned electronic receptionist came on-line, "Agent Ryan here. Patch me through to someone in operations."
"One moment please."
The screen flickered. A thin looking black man replaced Christine. "Agent Donner here. What can I do for you, Agent Ryan?"
"I think I've picked up a tail. Four cars back from my current location. White Toyota."
"Hang-on while I do a trace."
He turned away. She glanced at the rear-view mirror.
Whoever was driving the Toyota was damn good. She could barely see them behind the green four-wheel drive.
"Okay, got you. Fourth car back, you said?"
"Yep. I'd like a license plate and registration search done, if possible."
"I've gotta zoom in the satellite. Could take a few minutes."
"I'll wait."
Donner whistled tunelessly for a good five minutes, then gave a satisfied grunt. "Got him. Or her, as the case may be."
"Who's the registered owner?"
"One Jessie McMahon, from Eltham."