In the end Mr. and Mrs. Walker decided not to try and sell their farm just yet.

The way William reacted when I gave him our appraisal was a big clue though. I had a feeling he thought his werewolf neighbours were trying to cheat him out of his land. Then when he got our impartial third-party appraisal he probably realized the figure his neighbours gave him was actually a lot more generous. And it seemed like he wasn't so eager to spite them that he'd take a lower rate after all.

So on the one hand it was a waste of my time and I couldn't help feeling like I'd been dragged into a private dispute between neighbours, but on the other hand Erin pointed out it was good practise and maybe the Walkers would still list with us when they did make the decision to sell.

The only other loose thread was we never did solve the question of how to handle disclosure when it was a supernatural issue. The best we could come up with in this case was maybe mentioning the current homeowner had issues with a neighbour, without mentioning the fact that the neighbours in question were allegedly werewolves.

Anyways all that happened more than a week ago and I'd had some other successes since then. I helped that witch couple with some back and forth negotiations on the property they wanted, and their latest offer was finally accepted. All the paperwork was signed on Friday, and in a little over five weeks Hazel and Olivia Summers would take possession of their new home.

And just two days ago I sold one of my own listings, which was another big first for me. It was entirely mundane, as far as I knew there was no supernatural involvement at all. But it was the first sale where I'd seen it through entirely by myself from start to finish.

Now it was about a quarter past ten Wednesday morning, and I was walking west along Main Street on my way to meet with Jessie Vaughan. Erin briefed me when I got into the office earlier, apparently Jessie was working on an estate transfer, and the inheritor wanted to sell the property rather than take ownership of it themself.

Normally Erin would have handled it since she and Jessie were friends and they'd worked together for many years. Except this time my boss wanted me to get the experience, as well as the commission.

I reached Ms. Vaughan's office a few minutes later, she worked out of an old two-story house that had been converted from residential to office use. What was once the living-room was now the reception area, and Jessie's office was in what I figured was formerly a dining room.

When I arrived I found her out in the reception area, topping up the water tank on the coffee pod machine.

Jessie Vaughan was around the same age as Erin. She was about average height, with shoulder length greying blonde hair. She had blue eyes that were still sharp and bright, but there were some crows feet and laugh lines on her tanned skin. She was dressed in a professional pantsuit, with beige slacks and a jacket over an off-white blouse.

"Good morning Ms. Vaughan," I greeted her. "How are you today? Ms. Rhodes said you knew I was coming?"

She smiled, "Hello Vikki! And yes, Erin called me earlier. Perfect timing by the way, the client should be here shortly."

"And please call me Jessie ok?" she added. "Can I offer you a coffee? Or tea, water, soda?"

I shook my head, "No thank you."

"Is there anything I need to know before the client arrives?" I asked a moment later.

She replied as she led me into her office, "The house was owned by a fellow named Mike Kovalenko, my client is his niece. She was the sole heir, but she doesn't want anything to do with the place. So I'll get her to sign some paperwork that will allow me to act on her behalf, then I'll hire you to handle the actual property listing and sale."

A moment later she lowered her voice and added, "Miss Kovalenko can seem a bit abrasive by the way, but don't let it get to you. There's a reason she doesn't want anything to do with her uncle's estate."

I nodded slowly, "Understood. Anything else you can tell me about the property?"

She shrugged, "It's been a while since I was there to help Mr. Kovalenko finalize his will, but it's an older property. The building's a little run-down, but the location seems fairly desirable. I'll be taking you over there so you can see for yourself, after we've wrapped things up with Sophie. Personally I expect the land and location are going to be the real selling points."

That was all the time we had, as we both heard the front door open then close. Jessie excused herself and went out to greet the new arrival, and a few moments later she returned with her client in tow.

"This is Vikki Lawrence," Jessie introduced me as she slipped into the seat behind her desk. "Vikki's the real estate agent who'll be handling the property listing. And Vikki, this is Sophie Kovalenko."

"Great," the young woman stated. Then as she gave me a brief look up and down she added, "Hi."

She looked to be somewhere around thirty, give or take a few years on either side of that. She was a taller woman, probably between a hundred and seventy-five to a hundred and eighty centimetres. Her long dark hair was pulled back into a loose messy ponytail, but her make-up was on point. And she was dressed in a nice skirt and blouse combination.

I greeted her, "Hello Miss Kovalenko. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Pfft," she made a bit of a face as she sat down in the other guest chair, "Not much of a loss, as far as I'm concerned. Anyways let's get on with it ok? I'd love to put all this behind me and get back home before afternoon rush hour starts, if that's ok."

Ms. Vaughan smoothly took charge of the meeting, "We should be able to take care of everything in about a half hour I think?"

The woman smiled, "That's the best news I've had since I found out the old coot kicked the bucket."

I kept my thoughts and comments to myself, but I definitely understood what Jessie meant about the client being abrasive. On the other hand there wasn't actually much for me to say or do for the moment. Ms. Vaughan and Miss Kovalenko went through a few different ways of handling things, and the client was clear she didn't care what it cost she just wanted the option that meant she didn't have to think about it or do anything herself.

"Like I said the other day," Sophie stated, "I don't want the place, I don't even want to see it. Just sell it, and use that to pay whatever fees and expenses come up. Send me whatever's left over when the dust settles. If I have to sign something then either email or courier it to me."

Jessie asked, "What about the contents? All your uncle's belongings are still there."

The client made a face, "Rent a dumpster and hire some guys to clear it out. Or if you think it's worth it, arrange an auction or something and sell it off. Hell if there's anything in there you like then help yourself, I really don't care."

At that point I finally spoke up, "Are you sure? You don't want to have a look? There might be something with sentimental value..."

Sophie's scowl was enough to silence me.

Then she launched into an angry tirade, "The old bastard was vicious and hateful towards me when I came out and started to transition. Not just me, but my parents too. We eventually just cut the guy off completely, because any time he'd show up to family events all he did was deadname me and badmouth my parents for letting me transition."

"I have no idea why the old bastard left everything to me when he kicked it," she added. "Probably out of spite, considering he made sure to deadname and misgender me a couple more times in his will. So as far as I'm concerned, you can burn the place down and salt the land. If I get some money out of it that's great. Otherwise I just want to put this mess behind me."

I had no idea how to respond when she finally finished her rant. I thought maybe I should apologize or something, but luckily Jessie took over.

"In that case let's wrap this up as quickly as we can? Then you can be on your way again Miss Kovalenko," the lawyer stated.

Just like that Sophie forgot about her ire and focused on the boring paperwork Jessie set out before her. There were a bunch of things to be signed, that basically gave Ms. Vaughan and her law firm authority to act on Miss Kovalenko's behalf and make all the decisions with regard to disposal of the estate's assets and accounts.

It was a few minutes past eleven by the time all the paperwork had been signed. Jessie and I both shook Sophie's hand, and I remembered not to say anything about condolences when I bid her a good day. Then she headed out, while Jessie filed away all the paperwork and documentation.

She also had a dozen or so things for me, such as copies of the death certificate and her power of attorney and so on, incase I needed to produce proof of the legal situation for any prospective buyers or their lawyers. I also got some paperwork relating to the house in question, like the last tax assessment and a copy of a land survey that indicated the property lines and size of the lot.

Then at long last she pulled out a couple house keys and asked, "Shall we go and tour the property?"

"Sounds good," I nodded. I had my folio with me again, with everything I'd need to prepare the listing.

Jessie locked up the office as we left, then the two of us got into her Lexus. As we pulled out onto Main Street she commented, "It's about a fifteen minute drive outside town. Like I said the location seems fairly desirable? The lot faces onto Third Line, and it's a stone's throw from that resort hotel in the valley. If I remember right, the place is either next to or near a nature preserve as well. So it might be ideal for folks who like hiking and skiing, or other outdoorsy activities?"

"Good to know," I responded. "Now I'm looking forward to seeing it."

Sure enough it was about fifteen minutes before we got there. We drove past that ski resort on the south side of the road, then turned north onto Third Line. There were a dozen or so homes in the area, all of them were on large heavily wooded lots and set back from the road which meant they had a good deal of privacy. We crossed over a small river, then finally turned left off the road and onto a long unpaved driveway.

Like the other locations it was another heavily wooded lot, with plenty of mature trees. There was a small grass lawn that was rather overgrown, then the dwelling itself. Which to be brutally honest, looked like an old run-down cottage rather than a house.

As soon as we emerged from the car I snapped a few pictures of the place, from the front and the side, then followed Jessie up to the door. She unlocked it and led me inside, and I immediately had to stifle a cough when the smell of stale smoke hit me.

"Sorry," Ms. Vaughan apologized. "I should have warned you, Mr. Kovalenko was a heavy smoker. That's what got him too, the lung cancer."

I grimaced, "Maybe we can open some windows or something, the place will definitely need to be aired out before I start showing it to prospective buyers."

Jessie agreed and the two of us went around opening some windows before I got on with taking measurements and getting more pictures and everything.

Overall my impression of the place never really got any better. Like Ms. Vaughan said earlier, the land and the location were the big selling points. I had a feeling the actual structure would be more of a liability rather than an asset.

I could easily imagine someone buying it then immediately tearing down the house and building something modern its place. And probably turning around and re-listing the property as soon as the work was done, so they could make a tidy profit at it.

"What do you think about the contents?" I finally asked, as I turned my thoughts to the last thing we needed to address.

Jessie grimaced, "Ninety-percent junk. The question is, is it worth it picking through all this stuff on the off-chance of finding something valuable? I don't think there's value in any of the furniture. Maybe some of the knickknacks and keepsakes? Then again who knows."

"On the other hand if you see anything you want just help yourself," she added as she looked around. "You heard what Sophie said."

I couldn't help feel a bit weird about that, like just grabbing some dead guy's belongings felt wrong to me. Even if we did have permission it felt a little like stealing.

"Are you going to take anything?" I asked.

She smiled, "Actually yeah. I collect depression glass and I saw a pitcher in the kitchen that looks perfect. So if you were worried I might judge you, don't sweat it. Actually I'm going to go nab that pitcher right now."

While she was in there she started rooting through the kitchen cupboards to see if there were any other items in the same style, so while she was doing that I wandered back to one of the bedrooms.

I still felt a little uncomfortable about it, but I'd spotted an antique engraved silver flask that caught my eye. I wasn't much of a drinker and certainly didn't plan to start carrying liquor around in it, but I thought it looked kind of pretty. It seemed old enough that I was positive it had been engraved by hand, and the ornate floral patterns and scrollwork must have someone taken hours. The thought of all that work ending up in a landfill or being melted down as scrap really bothered me.

When I picked it up off the dresser I realized it felt half full, and since I wasn't interested in whatever Mr. Kovalenko was drinking I took the flask into the small bathroom to dump it in the sink. But the moment I unscrewed the cap things suddenly took a turn for the bizarre.

The small bathroom filled up with some kind of smoke or fog which got me coughing again, except instead of smelling like stale tobacco this was more like a floral perfume scent. The haze cleared a few seconds later, and when it faded I discovered I was no longer alone.

An attractive young woman about the same age as myself was standing in the bathtub. Possibly because that was the only available space in the small bathroom.

She had long perfectly straight jet-black hair that hung down to her waist, and her beautiful dark almond-shaped eyes focused on me as her wide full red lips curled into a smile. Her dusky skin seemed absolutely flawless, and most of it was visible thanks to the translucent red gown she was wearing. I also noticed she was barefoot, and her toenails were painted the same glittery gold colour as her fingernails.

My eyes flicked from her to the antique flask in my hand, then back to her again. My stomach lurched as I realized what I was probably dealing with.

I grimaced slightly as I greeted her, "Hi there. Sorry for disturbing you. I'm guessing you're a genie?"

She arched one of her eyebrows as she looked me up and down. Then she replied in a voice that sounded equal parts amused and seductive, "I am. And that would make you my new master."

A moment later she smirked and added, "Or should I say, mistress?"

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