G'Day to Die: A Passport to Peril Mystery - By Maddy Hunter Page 0,13

I thought I had it with me.”

“I found it back at Port Campbell, lying on the ground by the walkway on the cliff. Do you have any idea how it got there?”

“I don’t rightly know, dear. I s’pose somebody could a walked off with it when my pictures was makin’ the rounds, but why would anyone want a picture a my wildflower?”

Bernice shoved my glass back at me and eyed Nana’s photo. “Good question. It’s not even centered.”

“Here’s the missus,” said Conrad, escorting a white-haired lady with heavily rouged cheeks toward us. “This is Ellie,” he said proudly, beaming as we went through all the introductions.

“You mind me gettin’ a photo a you two?” Nana dropped her photos on a nearby table and waved Conrad and his wife together.

“Is there a photography contest going on?” Conrad asked, a little perplexed. “Why is everyone taking so many pictures?”

“Scrapbookin’,” Nana said. “It’s the latest craze. Big smiles now.” Bzzzzt. She set the ejected print on the table, then motioned Conrad and Ellie to join her. “It’ll be a real picture in no time at all. You wanna watch it develop? It can get pretty excitin’ at the end.”

Osmond arrived with a plate of goodies. “Would anyone like to try one of the crocodile macadamia brochettes? I got extra. They taste pretty good.”

Bernice bit into one just as Burl Ives surrendered the air waves to a trio of female vocalists who started belting out the ever-popular, “How Much Is That Doggie in the Window.” Oh, God.

Bernice’s face screwed up in immediate revulsion. “Yuck! What’s wrong with your taste buds, Osmond? This tastes like burned tailpipe.”

“Give it back then.” He plucked it out of her hand and tossed it back on the plate. “You’re a pain in the neck, Bernice. You don’t like the appetizers; you don’t like the heat; you don’t like the scenery; you don’t like your room; you don’t like to part with your money; you don’t like people. Can you name one thing you do like?”

Stunned into silence by Osmond’s rampage, she pursed her lips and cocked her head toward the speaker system, saying in a small voice, “I like the music.”

“This is extraordinary,” Conrad exclaimed as he bent over Nana’s photos.

“What’d I tell you?” Nana said. “Watchin’ them pixels come together makes your heart race, don’t it?”

“I’m not talking about the photo you just shot.” He lifted a print off the table. “I’m talking about this. Do you know what this is?”

“A flower.”

“Do you remember where you took it?”

“I shot it back at them Twelve Apostles this afternoon. Along that cliff walk.”

Conrad’s voice trembled with excitement. “Marion, do you know what you’ve stumbled upon?”

I caught Conrad’s eye. “What did she find? A rare primrose or something?”

He was struggling not to hyperventilate. “The flower is as common as a beach pebble. But do you see this plant growing beside it?” He stabbed his forefinger at the wild greenery in the background. “It’s extinct!”

“No kiddin’?” Nana regarded the photo with her usual calm. “I betcha someone just forgot where to look for it. My Sam was always misplacin’ stuff. ‘Specially batteries. After he died, we found enough nine-volt coppertops in his electric socks drawer to keep the Energizer Bunny goin’ ’til his fur falls out.”

Conrad gasped for air. “It’s been extinct for over a hundred million years.”

Chapter 4

Nana’s jaw dropped halfway to her waist. If she hadn’t been wearing denture cream with extra hold, her uppers would have been history. She gave Conrad’s shoulder a playful thwack. “You’re pullin’ my leg.”

“It’s the truth! This plant belongs to a family of angiosperms that no one has seen for a millennia. Do you know what this means?”

“Eyesight’s improved through the years?”

“It means, it’s back! This plant might have properties that could unlock the great puzzles of medical science—cures for cancer, heart disease, obesity. It could be a fountain of youth for the elderly. An elixir for the infirm. A cure for male pattern baldness!”

“Do you suppose it could do anything for irregularity?” asked Margi. “That’s a real common complaint at the clinic.”

Bernice studied the photo over Conrad’s shoulder. “If you’re expecting it to do all that, you’re gonna need more than one crummy plant.”

“Are you absolutely sure about this?” Tilly asked. “How does a plant that’s been extinct for hundreds of thousands of years suddenly turn up at a local tourist site?”

“It’s very simple,” Conrad enthused. “Plants that thrived when the earth was one solid landmass couldn’t survive the climatic changes when the