“When I got back to the office, Tom saw the books and I guess it jogged his memory because he told me that the empty storefront next to Kyle’s place is going to be a new bank.” She sounded huffy. “I didn’t know anything about it. I’m only Montgomery’s top seller five years running, but apparently this ‘bank’ decided to lease through Evangeline at Century 21.”
“They did have the listing,” Brad pointed out.
“And look how long it took them to get even a nibble. I told that moron Jeffords two years ago that I could have it leased within six months. Even offered him a no-commission deal if I couldn’t deliver. But he stuck with 21.”
“Maybe he’s friends with them.”
“Maybe Evangeline will blow anything in pants in order to get a commish.”
“Blow what in pants?”
They turned to see Sue standing in the doorway, a quizzical look on her face.
“Never you mind,” Patty said. “Are you getting hungry? Are you ready for dinner?”
“What are we having?”
“I defrosted some ground beef. So tacos or burgers. Your call.”
“Burgers!” Sue shouted.
“Burgers it is,” Patty said, as Sue ran off to tell her sister that she’d gotten to choose what they were going to have for dinner.
“Any mail today?” Brad asked.
“Junk,” Patty told him as she started washing her hands in the sink. “It’s on the coffee table if you want to look at it.”
He went into the family room, turned on the TV and sat down on the couch. He picked up the small pile of envelopes atop today’s Arizona Republic. An ad from AT&T asking him to become a customer—even though he’d been one for twenty years. Another ad from Big O Tires announcing an upcoming sale. An “offer” to help him refinance his mortgage.
A postcard with his name on the cover.
And his photo.
What the hell? The photo was old. He was wearing his uniform, but he was at least ten to fifteen pounds lighter. It was impossible to tell where the shot had been taken, because his head and upper torso had been cut out of the original picture and placed against a black background. Above his photo, in yellow against the black: BRAD NETH!
Frowning, he turned over the postcard.
“We know who you are! Can your current bank say that? Our guess is no. But we make it a point to know your needs, and pride ourselves on providing unparalleled service to all of our customers. Including BRAD NETH!
We’re looking forward to banking with YOU!”
He read the words again, then turned the postcard over. It was clearly an ad for a bank, but there was no mention of the bank’s name and no return address. Strange. He didn’t like the fact that the company behind this not only knew his name and address but had access to an old picture of him. Ordinarily, he would have dumped the postcard, along with the other junk mail, into the trash, but it occurred to him that this might be part of some scam, and he set it aside. He’d take it into work tomorrow and ask around, see if anybody else got one of these.