No Place Like Home

By Dee Stuart

“Right, Mr. Reilly. I'll see you and the little woman at one-thirty sharp.”

Grinning, Charlie Barton hung up the phone and clenched his fists thumbs up. Who would have thought this little ranch house he'd rented two weeks ago from Adams Realty would have turned into such a gold mine! All it took was a four-line ad in The Morning News: For Sale by owner: 3 Bdrm brick w/den, fp, breakfast nook; country living 45 min from city, fenced yd. Low fifties. Must see. 913-555-5555.

On Wednesday a GI, fresh from duty in Iraq , and his bride had plunked down a cool four thou earnest money. Last night an auto mechanic with a wife and four kids bursting the seams of a mobile home had put up every last cent of their six thousand dollar savings pending approval of their bank loan. Before a title search could be made, Charlie would be long gone.

To top it off, here came Bill and Nellie Reilly, retirees with a pre-approved loan looking to live in a small town away from freeway traffic, crowds and crime. The Reillys were too good a chance to pass up. He chuckled. This line of work sure beat his last job, pushing resort properties. And the odds of winning a deal on this house were a damn site better than beating the house in a Vegas casino. It was so easy, it made him nervous.

Timing. That was the key. Timing and careful planning. Charlie glanced at his gold Rollie. Sweat beaded the skin under his gold neck chain. He was cutting it dangerously close. He'd have to head out no later than five to make his flight to Vegas. Don't push your luck, he thought. But where else could he pick up another five grand? Why not go for it? He'd give the Reillys a deal they couldn't refuse. The Reillys were seventy-ish, short, plump and clear-eyed with trusting smiles.

Nellie Reilly chirped, “I've always loved this town. We're so lucky to find this place.”

Charlie beamed, thinking, Good grief, she sounds like Dorothy discovering the Land of Oz. He showed them through the rooms. Bill Reilly kept nodding and saying “Um-hum,” but Charlie saw him eye his suitcase by the door. The way his gaze seemed drawn to Charlie's Rollie and the gleaming gold chain around his neck, made Charlie edgy. Did Reilly wonder how a guy who lived in this starter house could spring for high dollar jewelry?

Surveying the kitchen, Nellie's blue eyes sparkled with pleasure. “I love the window over the sink! And all those cabinets and the cozy breakfast nook.”

Charlie's hopes soared. Soon they were talking price.

Finally Bill said, “Well, the price is right. How much earnest money do you need?”

Charlie gave an airy wave. “Five thou will do it.”

Bill Reilly never flicked an eyelash. “Five thousand it is. Nellie and I will mosey on downtown to the bank, transfer funds from our savings account in the city and—“

Vehemently Charlie shook his head. “Sorry folks, I gotta have cash in hand TO-day! Got another buyer waiting. I'm closing the deal with whoever shows up with the earnest money.”

“Surely you can hold the house for a day or two!” Nellie pleaded.

Charlie scowled. “No go, folks. My company's transferred me to L.A. I'm heading out tonight.”

Bill eyed Charlie's watch and chain. “Just what is your line of work?”

“In-surance,” Charlie said, smiling. “In-surance.”

“Well, I suppose we could transfer the funds then bring you the money.”

Charlie threw out his hands in a helpless gesture. “I gotta take the first buyer who shows up with the money. The house could be gone before you get back.”

Tears formed in Nellie's eyes. Charlie smiled. His mama didn't raise no dummy. This was it. Time to close the deal.

“Now I hate to see a nice lady like you lose this little gem. Tell you what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna follow you straight to the bank. We can sign the agreement of sale and you can hand over the cash. How's that grab you?”

Bill snapped his fingers. “His eyes twinkled. Why didn't I think of that?”

* * * * *

Driving his rental Caddy, Charlie gave a relieved whistle. He had it made! He followed Bill and Nellie Reilly inside the bank and clutching his attache case, sank onto a leather armchair beside a desk. While the Reillys went to arrange for the cash, he watched the clock. Three-fifteen came and went. They hadn't returned. The bank closed at four. All Charlie wanted to do was cut and run. He forced himself to stay put. It was almost three-thirty when Bill and Nellie returned.

“Sorry we took so long,” Bill said. “The computers were down.”

He placed five packets of crisp hundred-dollar bills on the desk.

Charlie opened his attache case, whipped out a sales agreement and slid it across the desk. After Bill and Nellie signed, Charlie scrawled his signature. He flashed Nellie a jubilant smile. Nellie's blue eyes twinkled back at him. He stashed the money in his attache case. As he snapped it closed, Bill raised a hand, gave a small salute. Within seconds, a uniformed guard strode up to them and grasped the attache case.

“I'll take that.” He grasped Charlie's arm. “And you come along with me.”

Sweat popped out on Charlie's neck. Frantic, he bellowed, “What's going on?”

Bill said, “Fact is, Charlie, I love this little town so much that every week I check the ads to see what houses are selling for. When I saw your ad, I drove over to take a look."

Charlie's jaw jutted out in a belligerent tilt. “So what's the holdup? Your mortgage was pre-approved, wasn't it?”

Quietly, Bill said, “The mortage was approved thirty years ago, Charlie. Fact is, I own this house.”

Nellie fixed Charlie with her bright blue gaze. “We've kept it all these years as a rent house in case we ever wanted to move back.” She gave a nostalgic sigh. “There's just no place like home.”