Claire McNab: The Dingo Dilemma

I passed on the message. "About time!" Harriet snapped.

"Lonnie," said Fran in a surprisingly sweet tone, "about tomorrow…"

He was immediately wary. "What about tomorrow?"

"We need to move the office stuff out of the storage room to make room for the disaster supplies."

"You need to move the stuff, not me. I'm way too busy."

Fran's near-pleasant expression vanished. "Is that so?" she said icily. "Then I'll be way too busy to provide you with essential supplies when the terrorists strike with a dirty bomb or germ warfare. Homeland Security says it's only a matter of time."

Lonnie looked stubborn.

"Or when the Big One hits, which could be any day now."

I shivered. I'd only been in LA a few months, but had already experienced a minor earthquake and lots of aftershocks. The thought of the Big One was just too horrible to contemplate.

"Countless frantic survivors," said Fran, warming to the theme, "crying out desperately for water, food, and medical equipment." She paused meaningfully. "The very supplies which I just happen to have stockpiled."

"It'll never happen," said Lonnie, without much confidence.

"Moaning in pain…"

Lonnie threw up his hands. "Oh, all right. I'll help."

Fran turned to me. "Kylie?"

"Right-oh. I'll be there."

The phone rang. It was Melodie. "Your Aunt Millie's calling. Sounds real upset. I thought you might like to take it in your office."

Hell's bells! First Mum, now Aunt Millie. A dark pessimism, worthy of Fran, swept through me. Could the day possibly get worse? I had the awful conviction that it could.

"My Brucie's a headstrong boy," Aunt Millie announced as soon as I picked up the phone. I could visualize her short, stocky body and grim expression-she and Fran shared the same bleak outlook on life-as she added darkly, "I know only too well what the fleshpots of Hollywood have to offer a young, impressionable fellow like Brucie. I'm relying on you to keep him on the straight and narrow, Kylie."

"Fair go, Aunt Millie! I'm on a case, so I won't have time to keep an eye on Brucie."

Aunt Millie snorted scornfully. "A case? Looking up Dingo O'Rourke is a case?"

Obviously Mum had told her all about Harry and Gert's worries about their son. "I'm looking up Dingo as a favor," I said, "but that doesn't mean it won't take a bit of time to check things out."

That elicited another snort from my aunt-she had a nuanced scale of such sounds, running from mild disapproval to total outrage. I pegged this one as mid-range derision. "I can tell you exactly what's wrong with Dingo. He's an idiot, silly as a two-bob watch. But then, what would you expect, with a mother like Gert O'Rourke?"

There was a long-standing feud between Aunt Millie and Dingo's mum. The reasons were lost in time, but I dimly recalled it was something to do with a recipe for lemon meringue dessert and a blue-ribbon prize for cooking at the Wollegudgerie Harvest Fair.

"When does Brucie arrive in LA?" I asked in a conciliatory tone.

"Any day now. He went off to Sydney with some of his mates for a farewell bash before he hopped on the plane."

Sydney was quite a way from my hometown, and Cousin Brucie hadn't ever traveled far from Wollegudgerie before. "His mates didn't throw him a party at the 'Gudge?"

"They knew I'd have their guts for garters if they even tried. Brucie knows my feelings-I'm totally opposed to this wild plan of his to join your PI firm."

Crushing down a yelp of deep dismay at the very thought of Brucie working for Kendall & Creeling, I said as calmly as possible, "I'm totally opposed to it, too."

"I hope you stick to that, my girl. Brucie can be a bit of a charmer, you know."

I had to repress a laugh. My cousin a charmer? He was a noxious know-it-all with all the charisma of a warthog. "I'll resist his charm as best I can," I said.

There was a knock at the door. With pleasure I saw that it was Ariana Creeling, my business partner. I gestured her into the room as I said to Aunt Millie, "Sorry, but I have to go."

"Not until I have a firm undertaking from you that you'll make sure Brucie stays out of trouble."

"Aunt Millie-"

"I'm relying on you, Kylie. Brucie is your cousin."

"Cousin or not, you know Brucie and I don't get on. There's no way he'd listen to me."

This got a reluctant grunt from my aunt. "It's true you've been at each other's throats since you were kids. Very well, then, I'm asking you to do your best. Fair enough?"

"I'll do my best, for what it's worth."

"Hmmm…"

The sound of Aunt Millie musing almost always presaged something unfortunate. "What are you thinking?" I asked with trepidation.

"I'm thinking that notwithstanding my opposition to Brucie joining your PI business, you'd find it easy to keep an eye on him if you gave him some sort of temporary position."

"No way am I giving Brucie a job at Kendall & Creeling!"

Aunt Millie tut-tutted. "There's no call for you to use that tone with me."

"I'm sorry," I said, not really meaning it.

Before ringing off, Aunt Millie pointed out she would be expecting me to provide regular reports on Brucie's activities in Los Angeles. She brushed aside my protests with, "Brucie's family, Kylie, and don't you forget it."

After my second daunting call from Australia in the space of a couple of hours, it was a delight to turn to Ariana. She was her always-elegant self in black silk shirt, black pants and high-heeled boots. Her pale blond hair was pulled back to emphasize the cool beauty of her face. I felt the usual pleasant jolt from her electric blue eyes.

"Help!" I said. "Save me from my relatives."

Ariana smiled. "I gather Kendall & Creeling is not about to employ your cousin, Brucie?"

"Crikey, no!"

I gave her a rundown of my earlier conversation with Mum about Dingo O'Rourke and then the gist of my chat with my aunt. Ariana had met Aunt Millie, and inquired if her son took after her.

"You mean is he mega-pessimistic, like his mum? Not at all. Brucie's the life of the party."

Actually he was a pain in the neck, but maybe he'd be on his best behavior in a foreign country. One could hope.

Pushing aside the disheartening thought of Brucie on the loose in LA, I said, "You got my note about Norris Blainey? Lonnie says he's the developer from hell."

"He is that. Blainey's been accused of numerous illegalities and shady dealings over the years, but nothing's ever stuck."

"When I met him trespassing in our parking area, he told me he was planning to demolish every building in the block and put up offices and condominiums. I didn't take him all that him seriously."

Ariana leaned back in the chair, her expression grave. "This could be a real problem, Kylie. If Blainey's got plans for this area, he'll use any method, legit or not, to bulldoze the opposition."

"He's not getting his greedy little mitts on our building."

She nodded slowly. "I'm with you all the way, but I think we're in for a nasty fight. We need an attorney specializing in the field. If you agree, I'll contact Kenneth Smithson of Smithson & Wiley. He's had a lot of experience in the area, and has run into Blainey before."

"Right-oh." I smiled at her, thinking how she glowed against the somber tones of the room. This had been my father's office, and I hadn't liked to change the decor of charcoal carpet and dark gray metal furniture.

Glowed made me think of Lonnie. "Ariana, did you know Lonnie is dating a star wrangler who works for some mob called Glowing Bodies?"

"The event coordinators? Yes, I'm familiar with the company. We've done some security work for them in the past. Who's Lonnie dating?"

"Someone called Pauline Feeney. They met online."