Rylee had just kissed goodbye to millions of dollars, all because her client had to be a stupid Mechanist. As the crocodiles got to work on the German man, she shut the door and turned away. Hopefully, the crocs would get rid of any evidence, but she would have to check the room thoroughly. Hopefully, also, the Conclave didn’t have some way to keep track of their members.
Oh, dear. What had she done? Of course, the Conclave had a way to track their members! They’d know something was up within the hour for sure. Then they’d be sending agents over to investigate. Thankfully, nobody knew Rylee had been in contact with the guy, so there was nothing to connect her to his disappearance. But she had to leave before any Conclave members arrived. If she could get out of the suburb, she could meet up with a professional in conveyancing close to Caulfield and use it as an alibi.
As Rylee ran down the stairs, making for her motorcycle, her worries only grew. What if the man had been recording their entire conversation? What if he had told somebody in the Conclave about the real estate agent he was seeing? That would be a disaster.
Perhaps it was best she gave up on knowing anyone who does conveyancing. Mentone would make a good place to hide, so maybe it would be wise to go there and avoid attention for a while. Maybe she could do some gardening. Yes, that was what she would do. She would plant roses for a while until the heat died down. Oh, it was just like that time in Highett where the Conclave had caught her accidentally littering.
This was bad.
Really bad.
There was no guarantee that gardening would help. There was every chance that the Conclave would find her anyway. Either way, this would probably be the end of her career as a real estate agent.
Not that she ever really liked it that much, anyway.