Page 22 of Shakedown in Savannah

He waved back and hurried to the door. “Hey, Carlita. How’s it going?”

“Unfortunately, I’ve had better days. How about you?”

“Same here. Things are a little slow right now. Actually, they’re really slow.”

“I noticed your lights were off. Did you turn them off to save electricity?” Carlita had meant it as a joke until she saw the look on his face. “Things must be really slow.”

“They are. I’ve never seen it like this. I guess tats are a luxury item a lot of my regular customers can no longer afford.”

“Because they need to spend what money they have on food and putting gas in their cars.” Carlita switched Rambo’s leash to her other hand. “I’m sorry to hear it.”

“Hopefully, it won’t last long.” They made small talk until Steve’s cell phone rang and he excused himself.

She and Rambo kept going and noticed her friend, Annie Dowton’s car was parked in front of Riverfront Real Estate’s office. Annie, who was a whiz at local real estate, would be the perfect person to ask about the property.

Carlita had left the papers in her purse, which was home, but had already memorized the property address.

Annie’s robot Tinker rolled over as soon as she and Rambo stepped inside. “Welcome to Riverfront Real Estate,” he politely greeted them in his robotic voice.

Rambo, unsure of what to think, barked loudly.

“We are glad you are here,” Tinker continued. “Please, follow me.”

The robot twirled around and rolled toward Annie, who was seated behind her desk, grinning from ear to ear.

Rambo continued barking, staying close to Carlita’s side.

“Look at Tinker.” Carlita laughed. “You put him to work. How cute.”

“Clients love him. He has a whole new vocabulary.”

Woof. Woof.

“Rambo.” She patted her pup’s head. “It’s okay. Tinker won’t hurt you.”

Annie tapped her keyboard. Tinker turned again, gliding toward Rambo.

He jumped back, his ears flat, warily eyeing the robot.

Tinker’s hand extended. In it were doggie treats. “These are for you.”

Rambo pressed even tighter against Carlita’s leg.

“Tinker has a treat for you.”

Rambo refused to budge.

She took a treat and fed it to the pup, who promptly inhaled it. “Tinker has two more. Go get them.”

Rambo crept forward, never taking his eyes off the robot. Meanwhile, Tinker stood still, hand extended, the treats still in his palm.

In the blink of an eye, Rambo lunged forward and gobbled them up. “Tell Tinker thank you.”

The pup pranced from side to side.

“Rambo says thank you, Tinker.”

“You are welcome.” The robot’s hand retracted. He rolled around and glided toward the desk.

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