Claire McNab: The Dingo Dilemma

It was very early morning in Wollegudgerie, but Mum always got up with the birds. She was more than fifteen thousand kilometers away, but she came down the line as clearly as if she were in the room with me. "Kylie, you're okay?"

"Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're living in LA, aren't you?"

"Yes, but-"

"It's on the telly every blessed night. Freeway shootings, carjackings, serial killers-"

"Melodie said something about a dingo," I interposed, before she could whip herself into a lather.

"Not a dingo, dear. Dingo O'Rourke. You know, Harry and Gert's boy. Your cousin, a few times removed."

"What about him?" Doug O'Rourke had always been called Dingo, maybe because he was a bit like a wild dog himself.

"Harry's beside himself with worry."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mum, but I can't see-"

"His only son, living in that hellhole called LA."

"Dingo's here?”

"Really, Kylie, I wish you'd listen. I've just told you that. He's landed himself a job as a dingo wrangler on some TV show."

"You don't mean Darken Come Home, do you?"

When I'd heard that they were making a family show modeled on the old Lassie series, but starring a dingo instead of a collie, I'd had a bit of a giggle to myself. Fair dinkum, a dingo would be more likely to take a bite out of someone, rather than carry out a rescue.

"That's the show- Darken Come Home. I don't mind telling you, Dingo's making a pretty penny working on it, but something's gone wrong."

"A problem with Darken the dingo? She won't come home?" I said with a grin.

I'd tried to sound serious, but sharp as a tack, Mum picked up that I was amused. "This is no laughing matter, Kylie," she said severely. "Harry says Dingo's acting like he's in big trouble, but when Harry asks him what's up, he says everything's OK. I said to Harry-Harry I said, I know only too well what it's like to have one's child run off to a foreign country without a thought of the deep worry it causes a parent."

"Mum-"

"And when it's Los Angeles…well! Murder capital of the world, isn't it?"

"Nowhere close. In fact, the murder rate's falling."

Mum always ignored contrary facts. "So I said to Harry, Kylie will look into it and get back to you. No charge, of course. I mean, this is family."

I repressed a sigh. "Harry hasn't thought of coming over here himself, to see what's going on?"

"Can't. He's got to stick by Gert, seeing as she fell off the tractor and did herself a fair bit of damage. Of course it was her own fault. She was doing wheelies in wet grass, the silly chook."

"She's badly hurt?"

"A few broken bones," said Mum airily. "Nothing major, but you know how Gert loves to hold center stage. She's got Harry at her beck and call. Suits her down to the ground."

"I'm awfully busy, Mum."

"This is family, Kylie."

My mother had me there. There was no argument I could marshal against the family card. "OK, what do you want me to do?"

"Just find out what's wrong with Dingo. He'll talk to you. Harry and Gert will feel so much better knowing you're on the case."

I got details from her of where Dingo O'Rourke was working, the address of his apartment, and the number of his mobile phone-I reminded myself it was cell phone in the States.

"I'm not promising anything, Mum."

"No probs for you, darl, you being almost a private eye."

I started to say goodbye, but my mum said, "Oh, there is one more thing."

An ominous premonition swept over me. "What?"

"It's Nephew Brucie." Mum always called her sister's son "Nephew Brucie" because she knew it annoyed him mightily.

"What about him?"

"He's talked Harry into paying his airfare. He's intending to join you in LA to help with Dingo."

An involuntary cry of horror broke from my lips. "Not my cousin Brucie!"

"Millie and I tried to stop him, but it was no use."

I said goodbye, put down the receiver, then slumped in my chair. Norris Blainey was aiming to tear down the building. I had a non-paying job to find out what was ailing Dingo O'Rourke. And my noxious cousin Brucie was about to lob into LA.

Wouldn't it rot your socks?

I put my head around Ariana's door, hoping to find her in her office, but saw with a stab of disappointment that she wasn't there. Then I remembered she'd mentioned going to the dentist this morning, so I left a note on her desk: Not to be a total panic merchant, Ariana, but some developer is after our building. His name's Norris Blainey and he looks to me like he's the type to pull a swifty.

Deciding a fresh cup of tea would raise my flagging spirits, I headed for the kitchen, arriving just as Kendall & Creeling's technical wizard, Lonnie Moore, appeared.

"Doughnuts," he said. "I heard there were doughnuts." He patted his plump stomach. "Hunger," he said. "Gnawing hunger. I haven't eaten since last night."

This was hard to believe, as Lonnie was a devotee of fast food, and usually picked up breakfast from a McDonald's drive-through on his way to work.

"You missed out on McDonald's this morning?"

Lonnie gave me his charming, little-boy smile. "Well, no, but I ate practically nothing-just a couple of Egg McMuffins." He scanned the kitchen and homed in on a box labeled Delicioso Doughnuts that in my angst I hadn't even noticed. "Ah-hah!" he said triumphantly. "I thought I heard Fran telling Melodie last night she'd pick these up on the way to work this morning."

"Lonnie, have you heard of a bloke called Norris Blainey? He says he's a developer."

Lonnie was already chomping on a chocolate doughnut, so his reply was indistinct. He swallowed, sighed with pleasure, then said, "Bad news."

"Norris Blainey's bad news?"

"Ruthless. A big real estate shark. Destroys neighborhoods. Throws widows and orphans out on the street."

"Stone the crows! That bad?"

Having demolished one doughnut, Lonnie was busy selecting another. "Where did you run across Blainey?"

"Outside in the car park. He was giving our building the onceover."

"He was here?" For a moment Lonnie lost interest in food, which immediately indicated I had a lot to worry about. "Jesus, there goes the neighborhood."

"Norris Blainey told me he aims to buy out everyone on the block, demolish the whole shebang, and put up a complex of offices and condos."

"Bummer. We'll have to relocate."

"Kendall & Creeling's not going anywhere, Lonnie. No one's buying us out."

Lonnie looked at me gloomily. "Good luck. Blainey's a lot tougher than anyone you've met in the Outback. This guy's an operator."

"I've handled yobbos in the bar of Mum's pub who'd eat Norris Blainey for breakfast," I declared.

He shook his head so violently a lock of straight brown hair fell over one eye, giving him a rakish, devil-may-care appearance. "No way. You're totally out of your depth here, Kylie. Blainey's the developer from hell." Lonnie sighed heavily. "I don't know how I'll face relocating all my stuff. I mean, I know where everything is in my room, right now. But if I have to pack it up and move it…"

A vision of Lonnie's room swam before my eyes. It was always an indescribable mess, packed with electronic gear of every type, along with folders, papers, books, abandoned coffee mugs, and various odd items, like the knee-high gnome that had suddenly appeared one day recently. I'd asked Lonnie about it, and he'd become evasive.

I was about to bring up the gnome again-it was good practice for my interviewing skills-when I heard the unmistakable sound of Melodie tapping down the tiled hallway in her superhigh heels. Crikey, I reckon I'd be tottering, not walking, but Melodie had the balance of a gymnast and titanium ankles.

"I thought so," she snapped, striding across the kitchen and snatching the box of Delicioso Doughnuts from Lonnie. "They're not all for you. If you've taken the last chocolate one, you're history, Lonnie."