local hospitals.'
Even if Quip were perfectly OK and off having a fine time with Yancy, as long as there was a chance he had run into Blainey's thugs again, I had to dob him in.
'Quip was here earlier this evening.'
'He was! With yew?' Her tone was deeply suspicious.
Stone the crows! Did Fran think Quip and I were having an affair? 'We weren't alone. Yancy was here.'
'Who?'
'Norris Blainey's receptionist, Yancy. I don't know his last name. He's been supplying Quip with inside information for his book.'
There was a dangerous silence for a moment, then Fran said, 'He? Blainey's receptionist is a male?'
'That's right.'
'Start at the beginning,' said Fran, her voice chillingly cold, 'and tell me every last detail. Leave nothing out.'
'Something could have happened to them. Perhaps we should call the police.'
'Every last detail,' Fran ground out. 'Every last damn detail.'
By the time I got Fran off the phone, I was stonkered. While I'd been talking with her, I'd imagined the worst that could have happened to Quip and Yancy. It was possible they were lying wounded in the laneway that ran behind the buildings in our block. There were no lights, and in the evening it was deserted, except for an occasional homeless person looking for somewhere to spend the night.
So, exhausted as I was, I resolved to check it out. If I didn't, I'd never rest easy. With a look of incredulity, Julia Roberts watched me arm myself with a golf club-the one I'd inadvertently intimidated Luis with when I'd first arrived-set my cell phone on vibrate and clip it to the waistband of my sweats, and grab a heavy flashlight that could double as a weapon if need be.
'Wish me luck, Jules.'
'You're on your own,' her expression seemed to say.
I let myself out the back door, holding it so its strong spring didn't crash it shut with a bang. Originally you'd be locked out once it closed and have to go around the front to get in, but I'd had a combination lock installed, so it could be opened by punching in the correct code.
There was a steady hum from the traffic on Sunset Boulevard, but otherwise the night was quiet. There was no moon, but it wasn't pitch dark because the millions of Los Angeles lights provided a constant diffuse glow in the sky. I opened the garage door and peered out into the lane. Something moved, and my heart did a somersault, but it was only some small nocturnal animal. When I'd first arrived in LA, Lonnie had alarmed me with stories of huge rats living in palm trees, but I persuaded myself I'd just seen a cat, and not some horrendous rodent.
A few minutes ago when I was safely inside, searching the laneway had seemed a perfectly reasonable step to take. Now I was out in the darkness, it occurred to me it was actually a pretty dumb thing to do. I reminded myself Quip or Yancy could be bleeding to death while I dithered.
Gritting my teeth, and with the golf club at the ready, I turned on the flashlight and, reminding myself that looking hesitant branded one a potential victim, I strode with apparent confidence down the lane, investigating any nook or cranny where a body might be slumped.
I saw nothing except the occasional reflection from some small creature's eyes. My patrol finished, I returned to the open garage quite weak with relief. Remembering to check to make sure no one had snuck in and was lurking behind the Mustang, I closed the main door and let myself out into the welcome familiarity of the back yard.
I punched in the code and opened the back door. Heartwarmingly, Julia Roberts was waiting there for me.
'Back safely, Jules,' I said. She twitched her whiskers to indicate her delight with the news. I was bending over to stroke her when my cell vibrated at my waist.
'Kylie? It's Janette.'
'Fran got hold of you, then.'
'About Quip? I'm sure he'll turn up. That's not why I called. I'm with Ariana at the hospital. She asked me to tell you that this evening Natalie had a second, massive stroke.'
'Oh, Janette…'
'She's not expected to live.'
'And Ariana?'
'She's devastated, of course.'
I felt utterly at sea. What should I say? Do? What would help Ariana the most-my presence, or my absence?
'Janette, tell me what's best for Ariana. Should I be there at the hospital?'
Her voice gentle, she said, 'Natalie's dying is between Natalie and Ariana. Do you understand?'
'I think so.'
'Let her come to you, when she's ready.'
How could I even imagine the grief Ariana must be feeling?
My eyes filled with tears. 'Tell her-' I broke off, not knowing how to continue.
'It's hard, isn't it, to find the words?' Tanette's voice was warmly sympathetic. 'I'm her sister, and I don't know what to say.
'Would you please tell Ariana that I'm here. That's all. Whenever, however she wants me-I'm here.'
Eighteen
Before I went to bed I called Fran to see if Quip had been found. She sounded tightly wound, but more composed than earlier. Quip still hadn't turned up, but when, after checking hospital emergency rooms, she called the police, she was told Quip had been gone for far too short a time for the cops to consider him a missing person.
'What can I do to help?' I asked.
'Nothing, thanks Kylie. Bob's here. When I called him to ask if he'd seen Quip, he said he'd come over and keep me company.'
I was a little surprised. I'd never thought Bob Verritt was at all close to Fran. 'Call me if I can do anything,' I said. 'Doesn't matter if it's the middle of the night.'
I went to bed, but only dozed, as the combination of worrying about Ariana and wondering what had happened to Quip made for a night full of distressing images. I told myself sternly that Ariana and Fran had it much worse than me, but that didn't help.
On top of that I had Dingo to worry about. I wished I could discuss the situation with Ariana. Should I keep quiet? Or tell the police he'd called me? I was hazy about the law in these circumstances. Was I obstructing justice by not telling the authorities I'd spoken with Dingo?
Then there was the problem of Gert and Harry O'Rourke. His parents probably had the bad news about their son already, but should I call them to say Dingo was OK, but had admitted to me he'd taken Darken?
My restlessness was intensely annoying to Jules, who considered the bed hers, although she kindly permitted me to share it. About two o'clock I got up and made myself hot cocoa. I was wide awake, so I decided to call my mum. It was evening in Wollegudgerie, and most of the chores of the day should be over.
'Mum, it's me, Kylie. How's Jack? Aunt Millie says he's having a nervous breakdown.'
'Doc Brady says Jack's nerves are shot.' She sounded quite pleased, and when I commented on this, she gave an embarrassed little laugh. 'Well, I have to admit it's bonzer not to have him interfering with everything. The Wombat is running like clockwork without his help.'
'Is he on the mend?' I asked. Jack had to be boss of everything, so it was hard to imagine him losing control for very long.
'Poor Jack finds it almost impossible to get out of bed, so I said to him, 'You'll be up and about when you're
