It didn't say anything about this potential problem with the yard in the advertisement. Cassie looked down and read it again.

BRING ALL OFFERS!

1931 Classic Calif. Craftsman

2/2, spacious living/dining, huge wooded lot.

Highly motivated and anxious!

Reduced and priced to sell!

Cassie had noticed the FOR SALE sign on the property during a routine drive-by three weeks earlier. The sighting had thrown her life into turmoil, which was manifested in insomnia and inattention at work. She had not sold a single car in the three weeks, her longest absence ever from the sales tote board.

Today's showing was the first open house as far as she knew. So the wording of the ad struck her as curious. She wondered why the owners would be so anxious to sell that they would already have reduced the price after only three weeks on the market. That did not seem right.

Three minutes after the open house was scheduled to begin, a car Cassie didn't recognize, a maroon Volvo sedan, pulled into the driveway and stopped. A slim, blond woman in her mid-forties got out. She was casually but neatly dressed. She opened the trunk of her car and removed an OPEN HOUSE sign, which she carried toward the curb. Cassie checked her hair in the visor mirror, reached to the back of her head and pulled the wig down tight on her scalp. She got out of the Porsche and approached the woman as she set up the sign.

"Are you Laura LeValley?" Cassie asked, reading the name off the bottom of the FOR SALE sign.

"I sure am. Are you here to look at the house?"

"Yes, I'd like to."

"Well, let me open it up and we'll go from there. Nice car you've got there. Brand new?"

She pointed to the dealer blank in the front license plate holder of the Porsche. Cassie had taken the plates off in the garage at her home before driving to the open house. It was just a precaution. She wasn't sure if brokers took down plate numbers as a means of tracing leads or backgrounding potential buyers. She didn't want to be traced. It was the same reason she was wearing the wig.

"Uh, yes," she said. "New to me but used. It's a year old."

"Nice."

The Boxster looked pristine from the outside but was actually a repo with almost thirty thousand miles on it, a convertible top that leaked and a CD player that habitually skipped when the car hit the slightest bump in the road. Cassie's boss, Ray Morales, was letting her use it while he dealt with the owner, allowing the guy until the end of the month to come up with the money before putting the car onto the lot. Cassie expected that they would never see a dime from the guy. He was a deadbeat through and through. She'd looked at the package. He'd made the first six payments, late every time, and then skated on the next six. Ray had made the mistake of taking the guy's paper after he'd gotten no takers from the outside loan companies. That was the tip-off right there. But the guy had talked Ray into taking the paper and turning over the keys. It really bugged Ray that he had been beaten. He'd personally gone out on the rig when they hooked up the Boxster outside the deadbeat's hillside box overlooking Sunset Plaza.

The real estate woman went back to her car and removed a briefcase, then led Cassie up the stone walkway to the front porch.

"Are the owners going to be home?" Cassie asked.

"No, it's better when no one's home. Then people can look where they want, say what they want. No hurt feelings. You know, people's tastes are different. One person will think something is gorgeous. Somebody else will call it hideous."

Cassie smiled to be polite. They got to the front door and LeValley removed a small white envelope from her briefcase and took out a key. As she opened the door she continued the patter.

"Are you being represented by a broker?"

"No. I'm just kind of in the looking stage at the moment."

"Well, it helps to know what's on the market. Are you currently in ownership?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you own now? Are you selling?"

"Oh. No, I rent. I'm looking to buy. Something small like this."

"Children?"

"Just me."

LeValley opened the door and called out a hello just to make sure no one was home. When there was no answer, she waved Cassie in first.

"Then this should be perfect. It's just two bedrooms but the living spaces are large and very open. I think it's just darling. You'll see."

They walked into the house and LeValley put her briefcase down. She then offered her hand and introduced herself again.

"Karen Palty," Cassie lied as she shook the broker's hand.

LeValley gave a quick description of the attributes and assets of the house. From her briefcase she took out a stack of printed fliers containing information on the house and gave Cassie one as she talked. Cassie nodded occasionally but was barely listening. Instead she was intensely scrutinizing the furnishings and the other belongings of the family who lived in the house. She stole long glances at the photos on the walls and on tables and chests. LeValley told her to go ahead and browse while she set up the sign-in sheet and information packets on the dining room table.

The house was very neatly kept and Cassie wondered how much of that was due to the fact that it was being shown to potential buyers. She moved into a short hallway and then up the stairs that led to two bedrooms and bathroom above. She stepped a few feet into the master bedroom and looked around. The room had a large bay window that looked out on the steep rock hillside at the rear of the house. LeValley called from below, seemingly knowing exactly what Cassie was looking at and thinking.

"Mudslides are not a problem. The hillside out there is extruded granite. It's probably been there for ten thousand years and, believe me, it's not going anywhere. But if you are seriously interested in the property, I would suggest you get a geological survey done. If you buy it, it will help you sleep better at night."

"Good idea," Cassie called down.

Cassie had seen enough. She stepped out of the room and crossed the hall to the child's bedroom. This room, too, was neat but cluttered with collections of stuffed animals, Barbie dolls and other toys. There was a drawing easel in one corner holding a crayon drawing of a school bus with several stick figures in the window. The bus had pulled up to a building where a red truck was parked in a garage. A firehouse. The girl was a good artist.

Cassie checked the hall to make sure LeValley had not come up and then stepped over to the easel. She flipped over some of the pages containing prior drawings. One drawing depicted a house with a large green lawn in front of it. There was a FOR SALE sign at the front of the house and a stick figure of a girl stood next to it. A bubble coming from the girl's mouth said Boo Hoo. Cassie studied it for a long time before breaking away and looking around the rest of the room.

On the left wall there was a framed movie poster for an animated film called The Little Mermaid. There were also large wooden letters spelling the name JODIE SHAW, each letter painted a different color of the rainbow. Cassie stood in the middle of the room and silently tried to take it all in and commit it to memory. Her eyes fell on a photo which stood in a small frame on the girl's white bureau. It showed a smiling girl standing with Mickey Mouse amidst a crowd at Disneyland.

"Their daughter's room."

Cassie almost jumped at the voice behind her.

She turned. Laura LeValley stood in the doorway. Cassie had not heard her on the steps. She wondered if the broker had been suspicious of her and intentionally sneaked up the stairs to catch her stealing or doing something else.

"Cute kid," LeValley said, giving off no sign of suspicion. "I met her when I first took the listing. I think she's six or seven."