KK04 - Dingo Dilemma

by Claire McNab

  I lost sight of the brown Buick almost immediately, but that wasn't a worry. Morgan and Unwin knew exactly where I was heading, so even they couldn't lose me. And even if they did, the global positioning device on my car would indicate exactly where my car was.

  It was Thursday night, and the traffic was horrendous. There'd been an accident on Laurel Canyon, and with no alternative route available, I had to crawl along stop-and-going with everyone else. I turned the radio on to a news station where traffic reports were given every few minutes, and was advised by a jolly-voiced announcer to avoid Laurel Canyon at all costs. "Too late, mate," I told him.

  At this rate I was going to be cutting it fine with Dingo. Things improved once over Mulholland Drive, however, so if I drove fast from now on, I'd make it in time. I kept glancing up at the mirror to see if the Buick was in sight, but it didn't appear.

  There was another car crash on Ventura Boulevard, where someone had run a red light, but this had just happened, so I was at the head of the jam and wasn't held up very long. There was only light traffic once I turned off onto the suburban streets. I arrived with a sigh of relief at the rendezvous point with a couple of minutes to spare.

  Dingo was rapping at the passenger-side window before I'd completely stopped the car. I unlocked the door and he tumbled in. "Get going," he said. "Drive straight ahead then take the second left. Don't signal."

  "How's Darken?"

  "Not too bloody good." He twisted around to check the traffic behind us. I looked up at the mirror. No Buick in view, just a couple of cars and one of those Vespa motor scooters that soaring petrol prices had made popular again.

  Satisfied, Dingo turned back to the front. "A right turn coming up, Kylie, then a quick left." He indicated a driveway beside a modest little house. "Park in the garage."

  As the garage door closed behind us, Dingo said, "This house is owned by a friend of a friend. He's overseas, so no worries about anyone dropping in on us."

  A door led directly into the house. I followed Dingo through to the kitchen, where Darken was lying on a bed made of several folded blankets. She sat up when she saw me, a wary look in her eyes.

  "G'day, Darken," I said. She obviously recognized me, because she relaxed enough to come over for a pat.

  "See what I mean?" said Dingo. "She's not herself." He unlocked the back door. "Want some fresh air, girl?"

  Darken looked fine to me, but maybe a little down in the mouth. "She could be depressed," I said.

  He heaved a sigh. "It breaks my heart to let Darken go, but I can't take chances with her health. There's any number of twenty-four-hour animal hospitals. Promise me she'll see a vet tonight."

  "I promise," I said, secure that it was the truth. As soon as Morgan and Unwin arrested Dingo, Darken would be on her way to veterinary care.

  Darken, who'd been heading for the back yard, suddenly halted. The hair rose on her neck and she gave a low growl. "What's wrong, girl?" Dingo asked her.

  "That would be me," said Norris Blainey, stepping through the door. In his skinny fingers the gun looked huge. It was a wicked-looking black automatic that seemed to shimmer with menace.

  Darleen's growl turned into a full-fledged snarl.

  "If that animal goes for me I'll put a bullet between its eyes."

  Dingo grabbed Darleen's collar. "Don't hurt her."

  Blainey gestured with the gun. "Get back." He shut the door behind him. "I haven't time to waste. Give me the audio tape, Dingo."

  Dingo's face settled into an obstinate scowl. "Go to hell."

  Where were Morgan and Unwin? Weren't they supposed to be riding to the rescue right about now?

  "How did you know we were here?" I asked.

  Blainey's face was full of sneering amusement. "With the right equipment it's almost too easy. I've been monitoring your calls. When Dingo was giving you directions, he was giving them to me, too. Once you picked him up, all I had to do was follow you here. You never even saw me."

  "The motor scooter?"

  "Sharp of you. I turned off the Vespa's light and drove on the sidewalk."

  Blainey's smug smile at his own cleverness was too much for Dingo. "Get out of here, you conceited bastard."

  In an instant, Blainey's expression changed to one of gleeful malevolence. I felt the hair rise on the back of my neck. I was in the presence of undiluted evil.

  "Over the years," he said, "I've been accustomed to paying big bucks to make certain problems go away. Since I've taken things into my own hands I've been having so much fun. And it has the added advantage that sons of bitches like you, Dingo, can't blackmail me."

  "Fucking hell," said Dingo, "you killed Yancy Grayson yourself."

  "I did, with the greatest of pleasure. And in the process, killed two birds with one stone. I got rid of an employee who betrayed me, plus I set up as the murderer a talentless would-be writer who was aiming to defame me. I call that a good night's work, don't you?"

  With a sickening shock, I faced the horrible reality that Norris Blainey would never have gloated over murdering Yancy unless he intended to kill us all—me, Dingo, and Darleen.

  I glanced at Dingo, glowering beside me. To fuel his anger, I said, "He's going to kill Darleen."

  Dingo stiffened. "What?" Still holding Darleen's collar, he took a step towards Blainey. "Not Darleen! She's just an innocent dingo." Darleen strained forward, her lip rising as she snarled.

  Blainey took a step back. "Give me the audio, and maybe I won't kill her."

  Dingo shook his head.

  "I'll start with her front paws. A bullet in each. She'll scream, she'll howl, but she won't die. Now where is it?"

  Where are Morgan and Unwin?

  "Bloody hell," I hissed to Dingo. "We'll have to do it ourselves. Let Darleen go."

  "But—"

  "He's going to kill the three of us, anyway."

  "Not my Darleen!"

  With a roar of fury, Dingo released Darleen and flung himself at Blainey. She got there first, leaping at Blainey's throat. He screamed as he went down. The roar of the gun was deafeningly loud. Darleen yelped. Bright blood sprayed across the floor.

  In a frenzy of rage, Dingo picked Blainey up from the floor and smashed him against the wall.

  As I rushed to pick up the gun, I became aware that there was a loud thumping at the back door. The lock finally gave way and Morgan and Unwin half fell into the kitchen.

  "Homeland Security. Department of Homeland Security," bellowed Unwin. "Put your hands where we can see them."

  "My heroes," I said. "Just in time."

  Twenty-Three

  Homeland Security took most of the credit for Norris Blainey's apprehension—Dingo got some—and all of the credit for beloved dingo Darleen's safe return. This was even though Morgan and Unwin had appeared when the party was almost over. "Strewth," I said to them, "we could have been killed. Where were you?"

  They had the grace to be embarrassed. Apparently they'd been held up in traffic and arrived late at the rendezvous, so they had to rely on the global positioning device to locate my Toyota. Unfortunately both Morgan and Unwin mistakenly believed the other was an expert in operating the system, so it took several frantic phone calls before they got it right.

  Kendall & Creeling received no public recognition for the part we'd played, although I did get a letter of mild appreciation from the director of the whole shebang, thanking me in vague terms for my contribution to the security of the United States.

  Bellina Studios and Earl Garfield decided that Dingo O'Rourke's snatching of Darleen could be a valuable PR item to promote Darleen Come Home, if Dingo were to be portrayed as a hero, saving the dingo he loved from death at great personal cost to himself.

  When Darleen leapt for Norris Blainey's throat, the wild shot he'd made had removed the tip of her left ear, a wound that had splattered blood across the floor and ignited Dingo's overwhelming rage. Darken herself took the injury in her stride—if she'd been able to talk, she would have said with
fortitude, "This? It's nothing. Just a scratch."

  Apart from being indicted for Yancy's murder, Norris Blainey was facing multiple federal charges, and his firm had slid into bankruptcy, so our premises and the rest of the block were saved from development.

  Quip was healing rapidly and regaining his good looks, which cheered him almost as much as the substantial advance he got from a New York publishing company for his forthcoming book, Norris Blainey: A Colossus Falls.

  Fran was Fran, which meant her usual grim persona was much in evidence. She did go so far as to give me a hug—an astonishing once-in-a-lifetime experience, and thank me for my help in saving Quip from murderer's row.

  Lonnie confided in me that Pauline was rather taken with his new, romantic self, although a problem loomed, as Unity and Upton were coming to see him as a rival for Pauline's affections. Lonnie stoutly said he'd cross that canine bridge when he came to it.

  Pauline herself scored a full-page article in the Calendar section of the LA Times, when to the shock and envy of the star wrangling world, she managed to get Earl Garfield to appear, if only fleetingly, at an event Glowing Bodies was coordinating for the launch of an environmentally friendly pickup truck.

  In fact, thanks to Lonnie, I, along with Melodie, Lexus, and Brucie, scored invitations to the function. It was an amazing evening—never before had I seen quite so many anorexic female bodies wearing miniscule outfits and dazzling, dentally perfect smiles. The men, including Brucie, all looked mega-casual, as if they'd just this moment picked up the nearest items of clothing and thrown them on.

  Two weeks after Blainey's arrest, Cousin Brucie took me to dinner. Over the main course, he leaned forward earnestly to say, "Kylie, I know you'll be disappointed, but I've got to go back to Oz. Nigel's taking advantage of Mum. I have to be there to stop it before it gets out of hand."

  "I completely understand. Your mum must come first."

  Brucie patted my shoulder consolingly. "Don't worry Kylie. I'll be back."

  As for my mum, Jack was out of bed and taking an interest in the running of The Wombat's Retreat, but as Mum said, "He's not up to full speed yet, darl. And that's a mercy."

  ****

  When I'd come back from the confrontation with Blainey, Ariana had greeted me with warm relief. Since then, however, she'd been pleasant but remote. I knew she was working through issues to do with Natalie, but I ached for the closeness we'd had, however fleeting it had been.

  Several weeks passed. Bob and I were in Ariana's office, lingering after our fortnightly staff meeting, when Bob said, "I saw Dingo O'Rourke being interviewed on ET last night. He was talking about Darleen's rescue. Unlike Homeland Security, he gave you full credit, Kylie."

  "Dingo and Darken did all the hard work."

  "Did you really say 'My heroes—just in time' when those bozos burst in after it was all over?"

  I hadn't mentioned it to anyone, and hadn't realized Dingo had heard my sarcastic comment. "I might have said something like that."

  A grin spread over Bob's face. "Ariana always says you're one of a kind, and she's oh so right. I can't imagine how we got on without you." He went off chuckling to himself.

  "Bob thinks you're quite adorable," said Ariana, expressionless.

  "He does?"

  "And you don't know you are, which makes you even more adorable."

  I felt a smile begin. "Do you find me adorable?"

  Ariana smiled in turn. "I'm afraid so," she said.