Nadia Essex ✪ Jyn Erso (nextchance) wrote in thereincarnates, @ 2017-09-04 23:33:00 |
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Entry tags: | nadia essex |
Who: Nadia Essex
What: A good con only lasts so long.
Where: Bay Property Management in Miami, FL
When: Monday, September 4; morning
Warnings: None
There was one compliment that Nadia had to give the place where she worked—only one that they would actually take as a compliment anyway, although she hardly meant it the same reason that they thought she did. She did like that they closed up on bank holidays. Labor Day in particular in this case; she had a feeling it was more to do with the fact that the banks wouldn't be doing any business with them and that the boys in the big offices wanted to be able to go to their little picnics and drink beer until they couldn't walk straight than it was a kindness toward the rest of them. Nadia didn't have anything to do for Labor Day. Jane did. Jane was going to see family so if anyone noticed anything out of the ordinary she'd already gotten a nice little alibi all set up. A few fake tears and an offer to call her mom and have her confirm that she'd been there that no one would ever dream of taking her up on because of those fake tears and she was clear.
As for what she was in the clear for... well. Nadia needed a bit of extra cash. Not much. Just enough to start squirelling away for a few new toys that would end up bringing in a bigger profit in the end. That meant a few more keys copied and a few more sales made, this time for some of the occupied properties. The ones that would be ripe for the plucking for someone who wanted to break in and help themselves to whatever a family had stashed away. She was careful to pick the better homes of course. The ones with the more expensive rent and the tenants that she imagined could spare a big more than the ones that were barely scraping by in the homes that barely qualified as livable. She did have some standards when it came to the cons she pulled. She'd never set up someone worse off than she was to take a fall like that.
The office was quiet with no one else in it. Nadia had let herself in with the front door key she'd swiped and copied and settled herself at the desk she sat at almost every day to sort through the property listings. Her kit was laid out on the desk beside her and a few keys that she'd already pulled from the closet were sitting next to that. She was making decent progress on the project; there were already a few molds sitting about ready to be used to make as many duplicates as she wanted. Only one per key though. There was no sense in getting greedy when it would just come back and bite her as soon as two people turned up to use the same property at the same time. Her buyers were paying for discretion just as much as they were paying for anything else or they'd go ahead and break in on their own without having to bother with buying a key.
Having the place to herself was nice. Nadia could almost like the building when it was just her there. She wasn't dressed like Jane that day. The sensible dresses and pumps were left languishing in her closet in favor of jeans that hugged her every curve and a plain black tank top that scooped low in the front. Modest natural makeup had been replaced with dark eyeliner and mascara and hair that was usually tucked into a bun just as sensible as her dress tumbled free around her shoulders. Careful as Nadia was to try to keep her cover it was still nice to throw off the shackles of Jane once in a while.
It didn't matter how harmless a cover story was. Eventually it started wearing on you that it wasn't you. That or you started to worry that your cover was becoming you and you were starting to forget exactly who you were.
She was almost done with all the copies she needed. Almost home clear with enough extra keys to keep her in business for a good month even if she didn't make a single new one. It ought to be enough to get her better supplies than the basic ones she'd been using to make her copies. It ought to get her a new pair of boots if she really stretched it. It was a good day to be Nadia Essex.
Until it wasn't.
The doorknob barely rattled before someone was throwing the front door open and charging in like he owned the place; he didn't but all of the boys thought that they were just as good as the big boss. George Cleary was his name. Mouth breather. Liked to look if a girl was wearing something that showed a little cleavage but he never tried to touch. Not so much as an inappropriate comment. Really he was one of the better ones in the office if Nadia was trying to rank them.
"Jane? What are you..." Georgie Boy stared at the scene with his jaw dropped open. There really wasn't much mistaking it for something innocent. Nadia was leaned over the desk pressing a key into a block of wax. There were other blocked already sitting next to her bagged and labeled with addresses. There was absolutely nothing that could have been innocent about what Nadia was doing.
There really wasn't any point in trying to explain. "Listen. George." Her voice wasn't even Jane's anymore. She was all Nadia in that moment, strong and assertive instead of meek and eager to please. "If you'll walk away right now I'll be out of here with no muss, no fuss. No one ever has to know that you knew and I won't have to hurt you."
He really looked like he was considering it for a moment. "Jane... you know I can't do that. I don't know what kind of trouble you're in but—"
"No trouble, really." Or if Nadia was in trouble then, she was in trouble all the time. Six of one, half dozen of the other. "I really don't want to have to hurt you. If you'd please..."
Of course George decided to be a hero. Men were so predictable.
Or maybe he just didn't expect a woman her size to pack quite so much of a punch. He'd have a real shiner once it finished bruising up and a real headache once he managed to get to his feet in a few minutes.
Nadia had to move fast after that. A quick sweep got all the impressions she'd finished and their labeled bags into her oversized purse. If she'd had the time she would have made sure to hang them all back up in the closet where they belonged so that no one would have any idea which ones she'd been messing with; she didn't have the time and so she dumped them onto the closet floor and knocked as many of the rest on top of them as she could manage and mixed them up with her foot before slamming it closed and taking off out the front door.
She could already hear George stumbling to his feet as she was bolting, calling out after her with a name that wasn't hers. The movies really did misrepresent it—they never stayed down as long as Hollywood wanted you to think they did.
If she could sell these impressions off fast and at a discount she'd be able to have enough money for skipping town. It wasn't her plan but Nadia was used to plans changing. Maybe in the next town she'd manage to find a job that let her come up with a better scheme than selling copies of keys to the highest bidder. Maybe not. Either way she only had so to pack before they'd be turning up looking for her.
And one more thing.
Nadia slid her cell phone out of her pocket and pulled up the only contact she really cared about in it. She'd already memorized his number; she made sure she went over it one more time to refresh herself before she typed out a quick message.
> Ditching this number. Have to leave town. I'll be in touch when I can.
And she would. Really, she would. Raif would have to try to get rid of her now... she just hoped that he kept believing it enough to wait for her.