Claire McNab - Kookaburra Gambit

Obviously this was not welcome information. Tami muttered something under her breath, then startled me yet again by suddenly leaping to her feet. "Come with me."

I put on my mulish face. "No way." I clutched the canvas bag to my chest. "These are mine."

Tami looked around the coffee shop, possibly wondering if anybody would notice should she deliver a knockout blow, sling me over her shoulder, and carry me away. Since we'd already attracted the attention of a scruffy bloke at the table next to us, who'd been tapping away at a screenplay on his laptop, I decided my jaw was safe for the moment.

From her expression, Tami was struggling to find a way to persuade me to accompany her without actually slugging me. Apparently charm won, as she sat down again, put her elbows on the table, leaned forward, and said with warm sympathy, "I totally understand your hesitation, Kylie, but truthfully, I want what's best for you."

"Oh, yeah?" My skepticism was obvious.

"Kylie, don't be that way. You can trust me, truly you can. You have my word on that." A big, toothy smile flashed onto her face.

The Complete Handbook had a lot to say about identifying the lying smile. I'd paid attention, because in this town of perfect teeth, constant smiling was practically mandatory. I mean, why spend all that money if you're not going to flash your pearly whites?

I assessed Tami's smile, which was still at full force. My handbook noted that lying smiles last longer, and this one had been going on for some time. Phony smiles tend to use the bottom half of the face. This also checked out, as Tami's eyes remained flintlike while her teeth sparkled below. Third, a false smile is put together much more quickly than a genuine one, and disappears more rapidly. As I gazed at her, Tami's smile abruptly vanished.

"Brother Owen is not a patient man," she snapped. "He expects to see us- and the opals-soon. I told him we'd be leaving immediately. It's not wise to make him unhappy."

Charm was out. Bullying was in.

"So what can he do to me?" I shook the canvas bag for emphasis. "I've got the opals and he hasn't."

"I'd hate to see you come to harm."

I drew myself up. "Are you threatening me?"

The scruffy bloke had abandoned his screenplay and was openly staring at us. "Do you mind?" he said. "I'm creating here."

"Oh, please," said Tami, rolling her eyes. "Creating!"

"And you'd know?" sneered the scruffy bloke.

"As a matter of fact, I would," Tami declared. "I happen to run a major movie company."

Consternation filled his face. "Oh, shit!"

Tami smiled triumphantly-a genuine smile this time. "You've blown it, buddy."

"But I've got this surefire hit screenplay…"

Tami made a big show of ignoring him. "Where were we, Kylie?"

"You were threatening me."

"Threatening?" She tsk-tsked over that. "What I was doing was warning you. Brother Owen plays hardball." She reached over to give my hand a squeeze. "But we can manage this together and come out on top."

I pretended to ponder for a moment or two. "If I go with you, what's the deal?"

Tami's shoulders relaxed. She thought she had me, and all that was necessary now was to reel me in. "I'll tell you in the car. Trust me, it will be to your advantage."

"All right," I said, oozing reluctance. "But don't leave me alone with Brother Owen. He makes me nervous."

"I'll look after you, Kylie."

"You make me nervous too."

"I do?" This obviously pleased Tami. "Trust me, you have no reason to be anxious about me. I have only your best interests at heart."

The scruffy bloke gazed morosely after us as we exited the coffee shop.

Half a block down from the coffee shop was a handicapped parking zone. In it sat a huge white Mercedes sedan. "Lovely, isn't it?" said Tami. It burped discreetly as she unlocked the doors.

"I'd rather go in my car," I said. Lonnie had put a global positioning gizmo on it, so wherever I drove, the vehicle could be located.

"You'll be much more comfortable in mine."

"But my car's on a meter." I checked my watch. "And it's about the expire."

"Don't worry about it. Lamb White will pay the fine."

Inside, the Mercedes had that terrific new-car smell. I sank into the luxury of the leather seat as I watched Tami take the blue plastic sign announcing the driver was handicapped off the rearview mirror.

As she shoved it in the glove box, I said, "I didn't know you were handicapped." I m not.

"So you're taking some handicapped person's spot?"

"They'll never miss it. Besides, my time is valuable. I can't waste precious minutes looking for somewhere to park."

The engine came to life with a well-mannered purr, and without indicating, Tami pulled out into the traffic. "Do you like this car?" she asked.

"It's OK."

Tami tossed off a laugh. "Just OK? This model is top of the line. One of the perks of working for Lamb White." She leaned over to put her hand on my thigh. Knees were bad enough. Now thighs? I repressed a quiver of horror.

With a meaningful little smile, accompanied by a thigh squeeze that hurt-she had fingers of steel-Tami said, "How would you like to join the Lamb White family, Kylie, as my personal assistant? A new car comes with the position."

"Dinkum? I'd get a Mercedes like this?"

This thought amused her. "I'm afraid these are reserved for top executives. Yours would be an entry level luxury sedan, or perhaps a mid-range SUV."

"I'll think about it." I looked around. "Where are we going?" She didn't answer.

Bob and Lonnie should be following the Mercedes. That was the plan if Tami insisted on using her car. I did a casual sweep of vehicles around us but couldn't see Bob's silver Toyota, or Lonnie's shabby Nissan. Of course that was the point-I wasn't supposed to be able to spot them. Still, it gave me a hollow feeling to think they might have lost me.

"We have to get our stories straight," Tami said. "Alf gave you these opals, and, worried that you could be involved in something illegal, you turned to me. Now, together, we've gone to Brother Owen for advice."

"But he was the one who planned the whole kookaburra scam in the first place."

"Don't mention that!" said Tami urgently. "Brother Owen mustn't know I've said anything to you about his being involved."

"You want me to lie?"

Tami gave me an exasperated glare. "Keep it simple. Alf gave you the opals. You didn't know what to do. You came to me. End of story."

We turned onto Rexford Drive. Obviously we were going to the French provincial house where the Lamb White barbecue had been held. I couldn't resist a look over my shoulder to see if any vehicle I recognized had followed us. None had. I had a sinking feeling something had gone wrong.

A middle-aged woman in a black dress opened the door for us. Brother Owen was waiting just inside. "Come in," he said, his manner solemn. I saw him eyeing my grubby canvas bag.

He led the way to a sumptuous study, lined with books and filled with heavy, dark furniture. Brother Owen ushered Tami and me to fat, wine-red leather chairs and seated himself opposite us. Giving me a small, avuncular smile, he said, "Tami tells me, Kylie, that Alf Hartnidge has given you a number of unset opals. It appears these have been smuggled into the States. This is a very serious situation."

Tami nodded a silent affirmation of the gravity of the circumstances.

"If the cops don't know anything about it, it isn't," I said.

Brother Owen leaned back in his chair. "I see. So you weren't thinking of going to the authorities?"

"I'm not sure what to do."

He shook his head regretfully, "It's hard to accept, but Alf's betrayed your trust, and mine too."