The Dingo Dilemma

'Dingo's perfectly normal,' I protested.

'Normal? You call spending your life at the beck and call of a wild dog normal?' A mini-snort came down the line. 'I don't know what's worse-the fact it's a dingo, or that its name is Darken. Darken!'

Belatedly I recalled that Aunt Millie's middle name happened to be Darlene. 'It's spelt a different way,' I said. 'Your name, I mean.'

'Darken the Dingo,' she muttered. 'Like you'd think it was a person.'

'I think Darken is a person as far as Dingo is concerned,' I said. 'He's very worried about her welfare.'

'A dingo's welfare! I never thought I'd see the day.'

I checked the time. I had twenty-five minutes before I had to unlock the gate in the back fence for Yancy. To hurry the conversation along, I said, 'Aunt Millie, I'll call the O'Rourkes if you give me their telephone number. I saw Dingo today, so I have up-to-date information.'

'Better you tell me. I'll pass it on,' said Aunt Millie. I could imagine the dark twist she'd put on what I told her.

'Reassure them Dingo's fine,' I said, 'and that he'll call them soon. Remind them that he has a stressful job. It's a lot of responsibility, caring for an animal star.' I put a positive spin on a few more details of Dingo's preoccupation with Darken, ending with, 'There's been some talk of criminals snatching Darken and holding her to ransom, so Dingo's guarding her day and night.'

This got more muttering from my aunt. I'd never realized she felt so strongly about dingoes.

'Aunt Millie, I'm a bit worried about Mum. I haven't heard from her for days.'

'She's got her hands full with Jack's little performance.'

I sighed to myself. Mum's fiance was, as Aunt Millie frequently pointed out, more trouble than he was worth. 'What's Jack done now?'

'Taken to his bed, the nitwit. Says he can't cope, that he's having a nervous breakdown over running The Wombat's Retreat. I ask you, who deserves to indulge in a nervous breakdown over the pub? Not Jack! I said to your mother, turf him out on his ear, but she'd have none of it.'

There was a pause, then she said in a less strident voice, 'I can't entirely blame her. It is nice, at times, to have a man around the house.'

I blinked. Could it be that Aunt Millie was getting soft? If I wasn't so pressed for time I'd ask her what she meant.

'I'll call Mum tomorrow. Now, if there's nothing else…'

'There's the matter of Brucie.'

Hell's bells! No way did I want to be the one to tell Aunt Millie that Brucie was planning to stay in the States. 'You haven't spoken with him?'

'Yes, Kylie, I've spoken to Brucie,' Aunt Millie snapped. 'I'm not at all satisfied that I know what's really going on. A mother's aware when a child is keeping something back.'

I decided the safest thing was to be vague. 'I haven't seen a lot of him, but he seems to be having a great time.'

'Brucie mentioned a girl called Lexus. I said to him, don't put your trust in someone who's named after a vehicle, but he paid no attention. I hope I can rely on you to be straight with me, Kylie. Who is this Lexus?'

'She's a friend of Melodie's. They share an apartment.'

Aunt Millie had met Melodie, and hadn't found her anywhere near serious enough about life in general. 'Lives with Melodie, does she? A flibbertigibbet, I imagine.'

'I've only met her a couple of times. She seems quite nice. Aunt Millie, really, I have to go.'

Never one to lose the opportunity to deliver a final blow, my aunt said, 'Very well, Kylie, rush off by all means. Just think about this, my girl. A child's ingratitude cuts like a knife. Brucie seems set to break my heart the way you've shattered your mother's.'

I gave an exasperated sigh. 'Aunt-' I broke off when I realized she had hung up.

The conversation had taken so much time I had to rush to let Yancy in. Jules looked disapproving as I galloped past her on my way to the back door of the building. I suspected that her plans for the evening included napping on my lap as I watched TV.

The gate in the back fence was secured by many metal bars and padlocks, so I went into the garage where the Mustang was parked and, without turning on the light, punched a button and opened the main door.

'Thank God! You're Kylie, right?'

He was breathing quickly as if he'd been running. His bass voice was instantly recognizable. I said, 'That's me.'

'I don't think I was followed,' he gasped, slipping into the garage. 'I left my car parked on the street half a mile away and jogged here.'

After hitting the button to close the door, I turned on the light. Yancy was not tall, but he had a compact body and an intriguing, mobile face. He was so blond his hair was almost colorless. Clutched under one arm was a flat zip-up document case. He was sweating and his hands were shaking. 'Can we go inside?' he said. 'I don't feel safe out here.'

I led the way across the yard and through the back door. 'Thank God!' he exclaimed again as soon as we were inside. 'Is Quip here yet?'

Yancy started violently as Granada loudly played. 'Shit! What's that? Your cell phone?'

'Front door.' I pointed to the kitchen. 'Help yourself to coffee while I let Quip in.'

Quip had said his eyes were still too swollen for him to drive, so he'd catch a cab. I checked the image in the security monitor to make sure it was really him before I opened the door.

Quip looked almost as furtive as Yancy. He limped in as fast as he was able, winced as he hurried to close and lock the door, then said urgently, 'Yancy made it? Yes? Thank God!'

'What exactly is going on?'

'I'll explain everything in a moment.' He took my arm. 'Fran doesn't know I'm here. You promised not to mention anything about it, remember?'

'Where does she think you are?'

'At home in front of the TV. Tonight's Fran's yoga class.'

'Fran does yoga?' This was a startling thought. I tried in vain to imagine Fran contemplating the world serenely from a lotus position.

'Has for years. Anyway, after the session she always has drinks with friends from the class. By the time she gets home I'll be back. She'll never even suspect I've left the apartment.'

My expression must have shown my distaste for such deception, as Quip hurried to say, 'It's for Fran's protection. The less she knows about it, the safer she is.'

'Oh, bonzer,' I said sarcastically. 'Yet you're happy to explain everything to me. So what about my safety?'

'You're not my wife. They can get at me through her.'

I had the strong suspicion the real reason Quip wanted Fran kept in the dark was because of Yancy. When I said this to him, Quip's battered face flushed.

'You think I'm two-timing Fran? I'd never do that. Yancy's been my main source for info on Blainey. Now he's in danger, too. So you can see why I want Fran kept completely out of it.'

I wasn't totally convinced, but decided not to pursue it further. I took Quip along to the kitchen, where Yancy, clutching a mug of coffee, stood apprehensively watching the doorway. He was so nervous, sweat was running down his face and dripping off his chin. 'Oh, thank God!' he exclaimed when he saw Quip. 'You made it OK.'

'There's an awful lot of thanking God going on,' I observed.

'Yancy and I are in real danger,' said Quip. 'I mean, look at me. If Bruce hadn't intervened, I'd likely be crippled, if not dead.'

Yancy nodded. 'Norris Blainey's a murderous son of a bitch. Now that he suspects I've been feeding information to Quip, I'm at risk. The only thing to do is get out of town, go somewhere he'll never find me.' He gestured to the document case on the counter. 'I've brought print-outs of some of Blainey's shady property dealings. There's more