The job of a part-time caretaker was hardly a difficult one. But things were made much more difficult when Zuri Obano came as part of the job description.
Zuri Obano, by profession, was a psychiatrist. But he only increased Genevieve's mental load. He didn't even need a caretaker—he made his own food, he didn't have trouble with any medication and prescriptions and he didn't have any trouble getting around. His only issue that needed taking care of was his home and his lack of a conversationalist.
And a conversation with Mr. Obano was less conversing and more him psychoanalyzing Genevieve. Something she did not appreciate.
She had originally met Zuri Obano while working for Meskin Pawnbrokers. He was taking back something he had pawned a long time ago. And Genevieve knew almost everything she needed to know about him, in the few minutes he talked to her. Mr. Obano was talkative—so, extremely talkative.
He had a daughter and son, who both lived in Europe with their families. His wife had died a few months ago after which, he came out of retirement and started to practise as a therapist again. He was giving away a free session to the first person who came to see him. Genevieve went to that free session and saw the good money he was willing to pay for a caretaker.
"So," Mr. Obano started. "How is life Genevieve?"
"I fell for it once, Mr. Obano. Never again."
He laughed. "Oh come on," he uttered, stumbling slightly as he caught hold of Genevieve's arm. "I pay good money for this, you know. It's the best part of my day—"
"You pay me for care taking. Not psychoanalyzing me."
"I pay good money, Ms. WIlfred," he laughed again. "Good money."
Mr. Obano walked with a crutch, but in Genevieve's opinion, he didn't need it. He walked fine, but the doctors said that his knee bones were weak. Genevieve thought that he'd be more upset that he didn't get as many patients after coming out of retirement. But he seemed content in treating Genevieve as a patient. He had never had a kleptomaniac as a patient before. According to him people with compulsions were 'mental goldmines'.
Sometimes he came off as insensitive, but in reality, he just enjoyed his work too much. He had fun with his profession. "Are we leaving now, Miss Wilfred?"
Genevieve walked with Mr. Obano from his garden to the door. Her last job while attending to his house was watering the plants and pots in the small garden he had made in his balcony. Then, she and Mr. Obano walked to Meskin Pawnbrokers where Geneieve worked another five to seven hours.
There usually wasn't much to do on the weekdays, which was unusual. Most customers came in on weekends or holiday weekdays. Mr. Obano would "drop" her across the street and then go for his evening strolls.
It was incredibly cold this time of year in Windham, Maine. It was quiet, peaceful and full with trees and nature that made it seem green even through the red and brown buildings. It was quaint. The city reminded Genevieve of Quebec. It was where she was born and brought up. It was a much simpler time.
Now, she had a man—possibly Redstone appointed—who was tailing her or spying on her. Genevieve hadn't thought about that as much as she should have. But she was certain that there was no way that man was about to kill her. She was safe for the time being.
"I almost forgot to tell you," Mr. Obano said. "I am going on a trip with my friends tomorrow. I won't need you coming in tomorrow and possibly the day after."
"Okay," Genevieve said, her voice rising as if she were questioning him. Ever since she had started working for him, Mr. Obano didn't make many 'trips'. He walked around the city, but he wasn't a traveller and tourist. As he said, he preferred, "staying in a mile radius to home". And as for friends, Genevieve had never met or seen one of them in her time at his home. Sure, there were a few, but none seemed the type to go on trips that exceeded a day's time.
But, it wasn't her place to ask. He was the employer and she was the employee. She did what he told her to do.
They reached Meskin Pawnbrokers and Mr. Obano graciously opened the door for her. They said their good-byes and safe-journeys and then he left and Genevieve made her way inside the shop.
As usual, there wasn't anyone waiting at the counter. Genevieve sighed and took her place behind the counter. She took a random magazine from the stack of books and magazines Naima had collected behind the counter and started to read.
Sometimes, the shop bell rang in her ear as an excuse to put the magazine down. She could hear the ticking of the clock in her ear and she always guessed the time passed to be much more than it actually was.
It had been almost two hours before Genevieve noticed the paper sticking out of her bag. She picked up the bag from the floor and pulled on the piece of paper. It was a note.
Tomorrow morning, 6-o-clock.
Wait at your nearest bus station. I'll send a cab.
We can have breakfast together.
— C. De' G.The note was from Carlos De' Gracias. That much Genevieve knew. But this was the first time Carlos had called for her through a note. He'd used encrypted messaging and other smart devices that Genevieve didn't fully understand. Physical notes were hard to place. You had to be physically present in order to do so and that risked being caught—or worse—seen.
The situation with Blind Spot and Redstone and Rothstein, right now. Carlos couldn't have possibly gotten close to her. He wouldn't have risked his cover for her. Meaning that, he has someone physically close to her already.
It couldn't be Naima or her husband. Lenny Marek doesn't like Carlos for some reason. He wouldn't do his bidding. That meant Naima wouldn't either. There weren't enough customers coming into the pawn shop for Genevieve not to notice if someone dropped something near her bag.
The only other person she saw often enough was Zuri Obano and he couldn't have done so. He was retired, old and didn't seem anything near Blind Spot material. In that moment, Genevieve wanted to hit herself. He didn't seem anything near Blind Spot material—he was perfect.
That would explain why this note comes wanting to meet tomorrow and Mr. Obano says that he has a trip with his friends. But, then again, this could all be a conspiracy of Genevieve's mind. Zuri Obano seemed like a great man. There was no way he was involved with Blind Spot Agency.
The shop bell rang for real this time and Genevieve saw a woman walking in. A customer.
She quickly stashed the note in the bag and dropped the bag to the floor. She greeted the customer as she came in. There was no way Zuri Obano was involved with Blind Spot Agency. No way.
YOU ARE READING
Access Denied: The Bullseye
غموض / إثارةKleptomaniac, thief, scum... Genevieve Wilfred had been called a lot of things. But never 'target'. And right now, she was at the top of the Redstone hit list and everyone knew it. Five months ago, she had been on a mission that had changed the ver...