“He seemed super drunk, like she had to help him walk. I was thinking of hurrying over to ask if he was okay, but they got in the car and took off.”
“Do you remember anything about the car? Two doors or four? A dent or anything else that caught your eye?”
“I don’t remember the car,” Kelly said. “But I remember the guy behind the wheel. I thought it was strange that he hadn’t taken his mask off.”
“Did you tell the police about this, especially since you can vouch for Dakota’s reputation?”
They both shook their heads.
“But you’re here now, taking our statement, so we’re good, right?” Kevin asked.
Not exactly.
“If you think of anything else, call me.” Providence jotted her cell phone number on the pad of paper on the conference table.
“No FBI business card?” Kevin asked.
“Unfortunately, I ran out and keep forgetting to order more.”
“So, is your job as exciting as the TV shows portray?” Kevin asked.
“Definitely,” Providence replied with a sarcastic edge. “It’s non-stop action from morning to night.”
They laughed, but she wondered if they actually believed her. “My brother just got his real estate license, and he’s with Larke,” Providence added.
“Awesome,” Kevin said. “Does he have a mentor?”
Providence stood. “No idea.”
“We’ve mentored a lot of rookie agents,” Kelly said. “Does he work out of this office?”
“He didn’t say,” Providence replied.
Kevin opened his laptop. “I’ll look him up in our directory. What’s his name?”
“Randy Maddox.”
He plugged in the name. “He’s not coming up.”
Providence peered over Kevin’s shoulder. “Are you sure?”
“Let me ask the manager if the new agents have been added to the roster.” Kelly popped out of the conference room and returned a moment later. “The website’s current.”
“Thanks for meeting with me.” Providence saw herself out.If Randy doesn’t work for Larke, where does he work?
Before heading to the Sequoia restaurant in Georgetown, she pulled up Goode-Luck Realty on her phone and checked the list of realtors. Randy wasn’t listed there. She sent her sister a text. “Which real estate company does Randy work for?”
“Larke,” Megan replied.
Rather than ignore what might be a blatant lie, Providence sent her brother a text. “Hey, Randy, it’s Providence. I have friends who are realtor shopping. They want to work with a realtor from Larke or Goode-Luck. Which one are you with?”
As she started her vehicle, he replied. “Larke.”
“Can I pass along your number to them?”
“I’m swamped right now and can’t give them the attention they need,” Randy texted back. “Tell them to call the office. They’ll assign someone.”
That makes no sense. A realtor who turns down referrals?What the hell is going on with him?Baffled, she headed toward Georgetown.
