Page 63 of Saltwater Memories
His decision was made, though. He got out of the car.
There didn’t seem to be anyone around; maybe somebody would let him in if he pretended to have a friend in the building? If there was a doorman, though, he’d bail.
He got to the front door – no doorman – and was surprised to see that the door to the lobby looked damaged. He tugged on the handle and realized that his suspicions were correct – the lock was broken and it opened easily.
Will walked into the lobby, unimpressed by what he saw. It resembled an old movie theater – red carpets, large mirrors on the wall, and a musty smell, as if the place had gotten wet and dried several dozen times.
Still no one around. He breezed through the lobby and down one of the hallways. The first two doors were unlabeled, but he did find a number “1” lying on the ground next to the stairwell. So one of these doors led to an apartment, apparently.
He didn’t dare try to open any doors; many of the edges were dinged, as though someone had tried to kick them open. He stood still and listened for signs of life – a TV, someone coughing, anything.
But there was nothing.
What the heck? This place was completely run down. It looked worse than the estate. Will walked over to the elevator and pressed the button – maybe the upper floors were nicer?
It took a few moments for the elevator to arrive, and when it did, the doors were barely able to open. The left door was off kilter, dragging a corner along the ground and making a squeal as it did. He popped his head into the elevator and quickly pulled away – the smell of urine was overwhelming.
Was that raccoon urine…or human?
He started coughing and instead decided to head up the stairs. He made the mistake of holding onto the banister which was wobbly and gave way, throwing him off balance.
This couldn’t be right, this couldn’tpossiblybe right. He must’ve gone to the wrong place.
He got to the second floor and saw that the doors here were at least numbered, so that was good. He couldn’t stop coughing; the smell of urine seemed to follow him.
One of the apartment doors flew open and he found himself face to face with a woman.
“Can I help you?” she said, hands on her hips.
“Oh, I’m looking for my friend…Carl?”
She looked him up and down. “There’s no Carl here. Who’re you?”
How could she possibly know that there was no Carl in the entire building? It didn’t matter. “I must have the wrong address, I’m sorry.”
He rushed down the stairs, not looking back as he ran through the stinking lobby and out the front doors, back to his car, and away from this place.
When he’d gotten a few blocks away, he parked his car and pulled out the folder again.
Yes – he’d definitely had the right address. But the picture of the building looked entirely different. It looked like a digital rendering, actually. As did all of the indoor shots.
Sometimes they used a computer program to fill empty houses with furniture, just to make them look more homey. He was used to seeing it, and it didn’t strike him as odd at first.
However now, the closer he looked at the pictures, the more he realized that they all looked fake. Everything about them looked fake, not just the furniture.
Was that why Lenny didn’t want him in the building? Because it was a dud and he didn’t think anyone would notice?
Will pulled out his phone and called his boss.
“Will, my man, how’s it going?”
“Not so good.”
“Don’t tell me that you have bad news for me.”
He sighed. “I think I do. Really bad news. I just went out to the apartment building that we’re supposed to rent out from Sun Kissing Holdings. You know – the one worth thirty million?”
“Yeah…”
