Sydney, the Temptress (The Delaneys of Killaroo)

by Fayrene Preston

  “Sydney? Why are you ringing so early? Is something wrong? Do you need Addie and me to come? Because if you do, I can contact Addie, no problem, and then Jacto and I... Sydney, why aren’t you saying anything?”

  “Probably because you haven’t given me a chance,” Sydney said dryly.

  “Oh... well, then talk for goodness sake! Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Sydney paused for a moment, mentally rehearsing what she would say. No matter what, Manda must not become worried about her. Manda had her own concerns, just as Addie did.

  “There’s no problem, Manda. I only rang to let you know that I’m leaving the Isle of Charron to go back to Brisbane. By this afternoon you’ll be able to reach me at my flat.”

  “I don’t understand. Why are you leaving? The last time we talked you said things were going well.”

  “They have been. In fact,” she said, forcing brightness into her voice, “I’ve won fifty thousand dollars, but it’s just not going as fast as I hoped. I think I’ll have better luck somewhere else.”

  “Like where?”

  Sydney had been dreading that question. “The Wombat.”

  “Isn’t that the casino on the outskirts of Brisbane?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sydney! That’s an Illegal casino!”

  “I know, but it has definite advantages. It’s in Brisbane, so I won’t be out the cost of a hotel room, and I hear that the action is fast there. Do you realize all I would need is ten-to-one odds and I’d have all the money I’d need? If I can win the money ahead of our deadline, I would be free to help either you or Addie, whichever of you might need me the most.”

  Manda’s answer was slow in coming, and when it did, Sydney heard the vague uneasiness in her sister’s voice. “That would be great, all right, but... are you sure you’re doing the right thing?”

  “I’m sure. Now I’ve got to let you go. I’m already packed and about to walk out the door. Can you ring Addie for me?”

  “Sure. But...”

  “But what?”

  “Didn’t you say that you had some trouble getting off the island the last time?”

  “Yes, but this time I know exactly where to go.”

  “Okay, then. Sydney... take care.”

  “Don’t worry, Manda. I know what I’m doing. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  Sydney hung up the phone and said a short prayer that she did indeed know what she was doing.

  * * *

  “Please hurry, Sai, open the door. I really need to talk to Mike.”

  Quietly Sai did as he was asked. This time, she didn’t pause to look around the sitting room. She went straight to the bedroom.

  “Mike, wake up. Mike!”

  As before, he shot straight up. “What? Sydney? What?”

  “I’m sorry to wake you, but I need to leave right away.”

  He groaned and rubbed his eyes. “Not again.”

  “Yes. All I need is authorization to catch a ride on the helicopter. So call whomever you have to, and I’ll be on my way.”

  “Does Nicholas know?”

  “He’s sleeping. I don’t want to wake him.”

  If Mike didn’t catch the fact that she hadn’t answered his question directly, it was because at that moment the mound of covers moved beside him and a muffled voice said, “Mike?”

  His head swiveled toward the mound in surprise, and Sydney had the impression he had forgotten he wasn’t alone in bed, although she didn’t know why. It seemed he, like his employer, was used to a plenitude of willing young women in his bed.

  “Go back to sleep, Kathy.”

  A blond head emerged and blue eyes gazed at Sydney accusingly. “Who’s she?”

  Feeling a sense of déjà vu, she reached her hand across Mike and said, “I’m Sydney Delaney. How do you do?”

  “Mike!” Kathy wailed. “I don’t go in for me-nageries! I told you that last night.”

  “I think you mean ménage à trois,” Sydney corrected Kathy gently, barely able to keep from laughing.

  Kathy looked at her blankly.

  With a heavy sigh Mike reached for the phone. “I suppose it’s another emergency.”

  “Yes.” It was definitely an emergency, Sydney thought. “Thanks, Mike. Oh, and Kathy”—briefly she was tempted to tell Mike that she had liked Leslie a lot better than she did Kathy, but decided against it. Mike didn’t need advice so much as he needed a traffic cop—“it was awfully nice meeting you.”

  * * *

  It was good to be back in Brisbane, Sydney told herself firmly. Maybe it didn’t have the glamorous ambience of the Isle of Charron, but this city that had begun as a convict settlement in 1824 had evolved into a pleasant place to work and to live and boasted its own charm, with streets named after ladies, such as Ann and Elizabeth, running parallel, and streets named after men, such as Edward and George, running crosswise.

  Once at her small flat, though, she found that the place she had lived in for over six years didn’t seem as comforting as she had thought it would. The furnishings and accents that she had so carefully chosen now seemed alien to her.

  But this was normal! she reminded herself—getting up in the morning to go to a nine-to-five job, living on a strict budget, dating men who actually didn’t mind the daylight. Damn!

  She rested for most of the afternoon, or at least tried, but she was greatly relieved when the time came to dress for The Wombat. Aware that it would be quite different from the elegant casino on Nicholas’s island, she dressed conservatively. At the last minute she added a thin silver chain from which hung a silver medallion. A cross was engraved into the silver, and in the middle of the cross, a turquoise stone was set.

  The necklace was a family heirloom. When her mother had worn it, the necklace had consisted of three identical medallions that were connected. However, when her mother had died, leaving three little girls, ages seven, eight, and nine, bereft, their father had had the medallions separated, so that each child could have one.

  “For luck,” she muttered, and tucked the necklace inside her dress.

  Six

  The Wombat was crowded, noisy, and boisterous. Smoke hovered in the air, and scantily clad waitresses barely stuffed into their costumes kept the drinks flowing. Sydney supposed that the owners of The Wombat encouraged drinking to dull the wits of the people who came to gamble, with the expectation that it would increase the house odds.

  Her respect for Nicholas suddenly climbed. He allowed no alcoholic beverages served on the floor of his casino. Although he had never said it, she felt instinctively that he wouldn’t want anyone to lose money because their ability to think rationally had been affected by alcohol.

  Now, where had that thought come from? she wondered, nearly missing a step. She didn’t know for sure that that was his reason for keeping the bar separate from the casino. But with her next breath she corrected herself. Yes, she did know why. Nicholas was a man who cared about tiny birds. In his own way he would care about people.

  With a disgusted curse a man vacated a chair and Sydney slipped onto it. The Wombat dealt four decks for blackjack, which was fine with her since that was what she had been playing on the Isle of Charron. This was going to be easier than she had thought, she assured herself, and as if to prove her right, she won consistently the first hour, quickly doubling her money. Her hopes soared. If she were playing recklessly, it was only because she wanted to win quickly. And it wasn’t as if her tactics weren’t working, she thought as she raked in another pile of chips.

  Waiting for the dealer to deal the next hand, Sydney noticed the glass of champagne one of the waitresses had placed at her elbow sometime earlier. Since the heavy smoke had begun to bother her, she took a sip, welcoming the coolness as it slid down her throat.

  “Why don’t you let me order you a real drink?” the man next to her offered in a slurred voice that indicated he had had quite a few drinks. He held up his glass for her inspection. “Scotch is what you should have. Champagne is f
or wimps.”

  “Then I guess that’s what I am. Besides, I’m not going to drink. I was just a little thirsty, that’s all.”

  “You sure don’t play like a wimp,” he noted admiringly. “You can play right up there with the best of them.”

  “Thank you.”

  He leaned closer and she caught the full strength of his Scotch-laden breath. “My name’s Harvey, by the way, and you’re a real beaut.” He burped, then continued. “I think you should come home with me tonight.”

  “I appreciate the, uh, invitation, Harvey, but no, thank you.”

  Sydney won the next hand and the next, and her euphoria climbed. She hardly noticed when she began to lose, because at first her losses were minimal compared to her winnings. But soon she was down forty thousand dollars, and she forced herself to stop and take stock of the situation. Sipping from the ever-full champagne glass, she decided her losing streak was only temporary and nodded at the dealer for the next card.

  Thirty minutes later she was down sixty thousand dollars, and she decided that the temperature inside The Wombat must have climbed dramatically in that time. It was extremely hot. She took another sip of the golden wine in her glass and immediately felt a lot better. The heat must be why she was having difficulty recalling which cards had been played, she decided. Her usually clear photographic memory was producing hazy pictures.

  Harvey patted her shoulder and fell against her. “Now, don’t worry, pretty lady. You’re too good to keep on losing. Your luck is bound to change.”

  “I hope so,” she murmured, and righted him.

  “Say, what’s your name anyway?”

  “Sydney.”

  Harvey gave the dealer a belligerent stare. “You deal Sydney a good hand, or you’ll have me to contend with. She’s going home with me tonight!”

  Sometime later, Sydney studied her hand, trying to ignore the dizziness in her head. She had been dealt a six and a four, and the dealer’s upcard was a seven. The odds of her getting a ten or a card that counted ten were good, so she doubled down, doubling her bet, and hoping the one last card she’d get would give her twenty.

  Sure that she could now begin to make up her losses, she waited for that card. When it came, she couldn’t believe her eyes. A lousy three! The dealer turned up his second card—a duece—and dealt himself a jack. She groaned. She had thirteen and the dealer had nineteen. What rotten luck!

  She took a sip of champagne. Automatically she reached for another pile of chips, but found nothing. Confused, she glanced down and discovered that she was completely out of chips. She had lost everything!

  “How could you do that to her?” Harvey demanded of the stone-faced dealer. “Now she might not want to come home with me, and I’ve never seen anyone more beaut than her!”

  “Sydney, thank goodness we found you!”

  Sydney gazed down at her champagne glass and wondered how it could still be full. She had never once caught anyone filling it, but then, she had to admit that her attention had been on the game. She felt numb. How could she possibly have lost over a hundred thousand dollars?

  “Sydney!”

  That voice sounded exactly like Addie’s, she thought vaguely, and wondered if anyone would mind if she lay her head on the green baize table for a minute or so.

  Two hands grabbed her arm and twisted her around. She blinked. It was Addie, and Manda was with her! She felt like crying. Her two sisters, always there when she needed them, had come to console her.

  “If Addie hadn’t been along, I would never have gotten through that crowd.” Manda said. “Come on, we need to get out of here.”

  Sydney beamed at her two sisters. “I’m so happy to see you!”

  “And we’re happy to see you,” Addie said, “but right now we need to leave.”

  She eyed Manda’s shoulder-length cinnamon-colored hair curiously. “Have you done something different to your hair?”

  “Possibly some of it is missing. I’ve been practically tearing it out by the roots on my way here, worrying about you.”

  Sydney frowned. “Worried?”

  “Manda called a friend to check out this place and found out it was bad news,” Addie said. “This place is raided on a regular basis. Now, come on, dammit, let’s get the hell out of here!”

  Used to such language from her sweet, delicate-looking red-headed sister, Sydney didn’t budge. “I just lost everything,” she told the two of them, tears rushing to her golden eyes. “I can’t believe it, but he dealt me a three.”

  “Sydney’s coming home with me,” Harvey told Manda.

  “Exactly who are you?” Manda asked.

  “That’s Harvey and he’s drunk,” Sydney explained.

  “I don’t think he’s the only one,” Addie murmured to Manda.

  Sydney moaned. “Do you know what the odds are against me being dealt a three?”

  “No,” Manda snapped, “and at the moment, I couldn’t care less. Now, come on. This place is creepy.”

  The risk of Sydney being whisked away before his very eyes spurred Harvey into action. He stood up, reached across the table, and grabbed the dealer’s shirtfront. “You’re gonna be awful sorry you dealt Sydney a three, ’cause she didn’t want a three!” Then Harvey threw a punch.

  At the same time, a bullhorn blared from the front of the casino. “All right, ladies and gentlemen, what we have here is a raid. If you’ll just stay where you are...”

  Bedlam broke out.

  Manda pulled Sydney off her stool, and Harvey fell onto it, having just been punched in the face by the dealer.

  “I’m going to be sick.” Sydney announced.

  Addie drew her close so that they were face-to-face. “No, you’re not, do you hear me? You will not be sick. We are going to walk out of here, and you won’t be sick. Okay?”

  Sydney nodded.

  Manda ducked as a chair flew past her head. Its trajectory carried it straight into the dealer’s broad back, where it splintered into fifty pieces.

  With Manda and Addie on either side of Sydney, the three of them began to walk toward the front exit. Fights were going on all around them. Dealers were grabbing their cash receipts in preparation for a hasty exit. The police were either involved in the fights or busy trying to break them up.

  A roundhouse punch came so close to Sydney that she could feel the breeze. Manda scooped up a beer bottle and broke it over the offender’s head.

  “Take a big step,” Addie instructed, and dazedly Sydney stepped over the body of a man currently down.

  Harvey, in despair because Sydney was leaving, climbed up on one of the blackjack tables, grabbed a light fixture, and swung out over the crowd in dogged pursuit of his objective. Moments later, both Harvey and the light fixture came crashing down directly behind the three sisters.

  Unaware of Harvey’s plight, they kept walking. A big, burly man stepped into their path. Manda grabbed a full ice bucket and dumped it over the man’s head. Surprised, he staggered back, and they walked on.

  In front of them, a rather large policeman was carrying two waitresses, one under each arm like so much firewood, out the door.

  Someone lurched into Sydney. She stuck her foot out to regain her balance and inadvertently tripped a man who was lunging for Addie.

  Finally, at the door, they faced one last barrier—a policeman. “No one is allowed to leave,” he said firmly. “Just go on back in. One of my men will get to you eventually.”

  Addie turned her dark brown eyes on him and smiled. “We’re leaving now.”

  A disconcerted expression crossed his experience-worn face, and he nodded. “You’re leaving now.”

  Addie sailed through the door, but when Manda and Sydney went to pass him, he stopped them. “No one is allowed to leave.”

  “We’re with her.” Manda said, pointing toward Addie, now standing outside.

  The policeman looked at Addie and she nodded. “All right,” he said.

  “My car’s over there.” Sydney s
aid, nodding vaguely toward the other side of the parking lot.

  “You’re riding with us.”

  “But you don’t have a car in Brisbane,” Sydney pointed out, smiling because she had figured that fact out.

  Addie took the wind out of her sails. “We rented a car at the airport.”

  “And Jacto will drive your car back to your flat,” Manda said.

  Sydney jerked away from her sisters. “Jacto! Oh, I’m so happy Jacto came. Where is he? I’ve got to say hello.”

  A tall black-skinned man materialized out of the darkness.

  “Jacto! How wonderful that you’re here. I lost all my money... and... I’m going to be sick.”

  “It will pass and perhaps get better,” Jacto said.

  “I don’t think so. Oh, help!”

  “Take her over there behind that car.” Manda told Addie, grabbing Sydney’s purse from under her arm. “I’ll find her car keys.”

  Addie held her sister patiently while Sydney’s stomach disgorged the champagne. When she was through, Addie wiped her face with a handkerchief. “Now you feel much better, don’t you?”

  Sydney nodded obediently.

  “Sydney! Sydney!”

  Turning around, Sydney saw Harvey at the door of The Wombat, being forcibly restrained by the policeman.

  “Sydney,” Harvey called, “I’ll see you around sometime, okay?”

  With an effort, she raised her hand. “’Bye, Harvey.”

  Manda pulled the car to the curb in front of Sydney’s apartment. “It’s all right, love. Addie and I haven’t reached our goals yet either.”

  “But I lost everything! I don’t have one cent left.”

  “We have two weeks to go,” Addie said in a soothing voice. “A lot can happen in two weeks.”

  “It’s no use, Addie. Your magic isn’t going to work this time. I’m worried.”

  Glancing in the rearview mirror, Manda turned off the ignition and pulled the key out. “Jacto’s right behind us. Let’s go in and see if we can’t come up with some solution.”

  Addie touched Sydney’s arm reassuringly. “That’s right. After all, the three of us together are invincible!”