Wombat Strategy

had called in to see me had prescribed a painkiller and rest. Both sounded good to me.

Melodie shrieked when she saw my face. 'Oh, my God! It's worse than Chantelle said! Think you'll need plastic surgery?'

Attracted by the commotion, Fran and Lonnie appeared. 'Jeez,' said Lonnie. 'Do you want a cold pack? There's one in the fridge.'

'I'm fine.'

For Melodie, that was enough about me. 'Kylie, I've got a call-back!'

'That's wonderful news.' She didn't notice my lack of enthusiasm.

'It's Angel Rejects'

'I can't hear this again,' said Lonnie, throwing up his hands. As he walked off, he muttered, 'I've had it up to here with angels.'

'Run it by us again,' said Fran, with a wicked smile.

Melodie took her at her word. 'It's like this, see. These angels have been thrown out of heaven. Like, they're in human bodies, and they don't remember they're angels, they think they're contestants in a talent quest. The trick is, no one knows which are angels and which are ordinary people. Angelique-that's me-is sort of the angel liaison between heaven and earth. Isn't a big part yet, but Larry says he's sure Angelique will get more air time later in the series.'

'I don't get it.'

Melodie sighed. 'Oh, it's simple, Fran. Listen up. There's some angels and there's some wanna-bes all mixed together and no one knows who's from heaven and who's from earth. At the end of the show the viewers vote for Angel of the Week. If the one they pick isn't an angel, the person loses and goes to hell. If the person is an angel, they get fifty thousand dollars and a chance to compete another week. See?'

'Never mind,' said Fran. 'It'll be canceled anyway.'

Really stung, Melodie snapped, 'It will not. And who are you to criticize? I suppose Quip's going to be a big success. Like, how many scripts has he sold, huh?' She stuck out her fingers and pantomimed counting them off. 'Let's see. One script? Two scripts? What's that you say? Oh. No scripts.'

'Let me at her,' said Fran.

For the first time I was sitting behind the desk in Dad's office, now my office. I'd turned on the computer and was busy checking the zillions of e-mails that had piled up. I hadn't checked my messages since I'd left Australia, and they numbered in the hundreds. A fair portion I instantly deleted, as they were spam. I'd just got rid of the last offer to increase the size of my penis when Ariana knocked at the door.

'How are you feeling?'

'Fair to middling,' I said.

'Headache?'

'It's better. I've taken something.'

It was a change, having her come into my office, rather than the other way around. 'Take a seat?' I said, feeling for once I had the advantage.

'Sure. I've come to report on the situation, but first, you did a great job nailing that guy. Congratulations.'

I felt ridiculously pleased. 'Thanks.'

'Dave Deer's done his best to contain the damage, and so far he's been successful. The wild card in the pack is Randy Romaine. He's still in custody, but he'll make bail tomorrow. The line he's taking with the cops is that he's a great fan of Lorelei Stevens and on an impulse borrowed the file. You attacked him quite unjustifiably, he says, and he was only defending himself when he hit you.'

'That bastard.'

Ariana half smiled. 'The cops didn't buy it. Someone with his record of celebrity stalking is behind the eight ball before he even opens his mouth.'

'So what happens now?'

'Bob Verritt found his missing teenager last night in Las Vegas. That means he's available to run a fine-tooth comb over Randy Romaine's life. If Romaine's the blackmailer, which I doubt, he's not about to do anything at the moment, now that the cops have taken an interest in him. It's more likely, however, that Romaine was working for somebody else. Bob's following up on that angle.'

She looked at me sympathetically. 'That's got to be hurting. Why don't you take it easy, lie down?'

'Can I ask you something?'

'Of course.'

There was no easy way to get this out, but I had to know. 'Did Melodie tell you I'd been reading a book on how to be a P.I.?'

A faint smile touched her lips. 'I believe she did mention something along those lines.'

'I knew it! I knew that guy in the brown uniform would blab.'

'I don't know why you're worried,' said Ariana. 'It just shows you're taking the job seriously.'

I looked at her closely, thinking she might be having me on.

'I mean it,' she said.

'Good-oh.'

After Ariana had gone I went to find a mirror to assess the damage. I'd had a quick look in the washroom at Deerdoc, and my face had looked a bit battered but not too bad. The passage of time hadn't helped, I found. The swelling was more pronounced, and my black eye was distinctly blacker.

Today was Wednesday. I wouldn't be presentable by Friday. I was about to call Chantelle when she called me on my cell phone. 'How are you? I must have just missed you.'

'Lucky you. I look like something out of a horror movie. We'd better cancel Friday.'

'You're breaking our date? No way.'

That warmed me a little, as I'd looking forward to seeing Chantelle outside her work. Perhaps she was destined to play an important part in my future. I could hope.

Julia Roberts turned out to be my solace for the rest of the day, although Ariana did her share by arranging for a local restaurant to deliver dinner.

On Thursday, Dave Deer asked me to come into Deerdoc to meet the detectives on the case. He put me in his office and advised me not to volunteer anything. I expected Miles the creepy lawyer would be there, but it seemed the heat was off and I could be trusted on my own.

The interview was short. It was clear they were merely going through the motions. After the two cops had gone, Dave Deer smiled at me with a certain smugness. 'Kept the lid on it,' he said. 'The media sniffed around but got nothing. Lorelei is very pleased.' He rubbed his hands. 'I still need you, Kylie. I'm interviewing for a new personal assistant, but in the meantime…'

He never got to hear my answer. Chantelle appeared at the door. 'Dr. Deer? Mr. Perkins insists-'

She was bodily knocked out of the way by Jarrod Perkins. I'd seen plenty of people lose their tempers, but this bloke beat them all. He was literally purple in the face. The moment he saw Dave Deer, he screamed, 'You motherfucking bastard!' In one shaking hand he held a crumpled sheet of paper. 'Explain this!'

Dave Deer zipped behind the protection of his desk. He put up placating hands. 'Jarrod, it's me, your therapist.'

'Fuck that for a joke! Some bastard's trying to blackmail me.' Perkins stood there panting, poised as if about to attack something or someone.

Chantelle, eyes wide, hovered in the doorway. 'I'll get Fred Mills.'

I saw it dawning on Dave Deer that this was something that must at all costs be kept quiet. 'No, Chantelle. This is a medical matter. Please shut the door and make sure we're not disturbed.'

Chantelle caught my eye. 'Get out,' she mouthed.

It was sweet of her, but I wasn't going.

After the door closed, Dave Deer said soothingly, 'Now, Jarrod, sit down and let's discuss what's worrying you.'

'You supercilious prick. You knew about this and you didn't tell me.' He threw the crumpled page onto the desk. 'How long have the recordings been missing? How long have you known, you cocksucker? How long?'