G'Day to Die: A Passport to Peril Mystery - By Maddy Hunter Page 0,35
of Etienne and Duncan end up in GQ. “So that’s why he’s been monopolizing the daylights out of you. Congratulations on being so photogenic! Wow. Does this mean the two of you could be responsible for making him even more famous than he is now?”
“This is where it gets a little tricky,” Duncan hedged. “He thinks that once he submits the photos, Miceli and I are going to become the famous ones. He’s expecting us to create the same kind of sensation that Burt Reynolds caused when he posed in the altogether for that centerfold in Cosmo years ago, only we’ll have clothes on.”
“Oh, my God! The two of you are going to become glitterati?”
“NO!” they replied in unison.
“We’re not models,” Etienne scoffed.
“Or girly boys,” Duncan added.
“Do we look as if we could exercise judgment that poor?” Etienne asked. “Papparazzi? Crazed fans? Entertainment Tonight?”
“You don’t want to be famous?”
“NO!” they replied again.
“Have you told Guy?”
“YES!”
Boy, they had the unison thing down to a science.
“We’ve told him to submit the photos if they can further his career, but not to meddle in ours,” Duncan said, glancing back toward Main Street. “We want to remain anonymous.”
“We’ve also told him no more photos,” Etienne added, “but he’s having a difficult time keeping his finger off the shutter button. He’s a half step shy of stalking us.”
“Hey, guys, I have good news. You don’t have to worry about him pestering you the rest of the afternoon because he volunteered to keep Bernice occu—”
“But—” They were gone before I could finish. “Can’t you just tell him to bugger off?”
I sighed. Men. They simply had no idea how to say it tactfully. Guess I’d have to show them how it was done. Dealing with Bernice had turned me into a master of tact.
I stepped out of the alleyway, prepared to confront Guy, but the street was deserted. I jaunted up to Main Street and looked both ways, but I still couldn’t see him.
Huh. That was funny. Or was it?
Either Duncan’s eyes were playing tricks on him or he and Etienne were playing a game much different than Survivor.
They were playing keep away.
Chapter 8
Alone once more, I decided to “power tour” Sovereign Hill before breaking for lunch. In the space of an hour I hiked to the far end of Main Street to sign up for a gold mine tour, watched a bald guy melt a bar of gold into liquid that could be poured like orange juice, listened to the far-off report of musket fire, bought a lace doily for my mom at David Jones Criterion Store, took a few pictures of a supply wagon whose cargo of canvas bales rose higher than the roofs of most buildings, then bypassed the Victorian dining experience offered at the United States Hotel and New York Bakery in favor of something more my style: The Refreshment Kiosk.
The kiosk offered cafeteria-style dining, so I paid the cashier at the end of the food line for my hot dog, chips, and soft drink, then scoped out the picnic tables in the overcrowded dining area for an available seat.
Henry walked toward me, carrying an empty tray. “You can have my seat if you hurry. Table in the lift corner, nixt to the wall. Some other tour blokes are there to keep you company.”
“Thanks!” Gee, that was lucky. It was only after I arrived at the table that I wished I’d taken the elegant dining option. There were nine people at the table and only one seat available, right between Diana Squires and everyone’s favorite fear monger, Jake Silverthorn. Damn.
“Hi, there, Miss Emily.” Guy Madelyn stabbed his fork at the empty space. “Feel free to join us if you can handle the tight squeeze.”
“My money says she’ll pass,” Jake said, rolling his toothpick from one corner of his mouth to the other. “Looks too skittish to abide small spaces.”
Lola sat at the end of the bench, directly opposite Heath and Nora. She stared at me, her eyes issuing a challenge. “Bite ya bum, Jake. Make room for the lady. I’m sure there’s nothin’ she’d like bitter than to cuddle up nixt to you while she’s eating her weinah. Isn’t that right, Imily?”
I wasn’t sure what kind of game these two were playing, but if they thought they could scare me—
Well, they were scaring me, but Jake’s plate was empty. Chances were, he’d be leaving soon.