G'Day to Die: A Passport to Peril Mystery - By Maddy Hunter Page 0,49
chair. “Marion, dear, we’ll talk later.”
Etienne bowed his head toward me. “She’s lying.”
“You don’t think she’ll talk to Nana later?”
“She’s lying about what she bought.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’ve spent a dozen years interrogating people, Emily. I know when they’re lying. Although I’m not sure why anyone would feel compelled to lie about something as trivial as shopping purchases.”
I watched as she returned to her chair. Why indeed?
Our waiter arrived—a tall, angular gentleman dressed in pajama-like pants and a white chef’s coat with a mandarin collar. “Good evening.” He bowed with practiced elegance. “Welcome to Jasmin. Would you care to order anything from the bar?”
“You bet,” said Nana, unable to contain her enthusiasm. “I’d like to have one a them Screamin’ Orgasms.”
The waiter affected a droll smile as he looked down his aristocratic nose. “Honey, wouldn’t we all.”
Chapter 11
“The Barossa Valley was sittled around eighteen-thirty-six by Lutheran farmers from Germany and Poland who were fleeing religious persecution,” Henry informed us over the bus’s loudspeaker the next morning.
We were traveling northeast from Adelaide, through gorges of raging river water, hills forested with leafy gum trees, and grassy meadows in shades of green that Sherwin Williams could never duplicate. Vineyards dotted the landscape. Towns gave off an Oktoberfest air. In culinary terms, if Australia’s interior was desiccated flat bread, the Barossa Valley was Bavarian cream pie.
“The sittlers built their towns, then planted vineyards that have produced the finest wine ever to tease the human palate. And you needn’t take my word for it. You’ll be able to judge for yoursilves whin we visit two of the valley’s most renowned wineries later today.”
“If we have to pay for it, you can count me out,” Bernice shouted from the back.
“You don’t have to pay to taste wine,” Dick Teig mocked. “Everyone knows that.”
“Max Schubert’s Grange Hermitage is called the bist rid wine in the world,” Henry continued. “Australia has mini distinctions like that. For instance, did you know we’re home to the world’s largest monolith? Anyone know what it is?”
“Ayers Rock,” called Tilly. “Although I believe it’s now referred to as Uluru, which is the aboriginal name.”
“Brilliant. We also boast the largest living thing on earth. Care to giss what that might be?”
“Dick Teig’s head!” yelled Bernice.
“The Great Barrier Reef,” Nana called out. “I seen it on a Travel Channel special.”
We pulled into a parking lot surrounded by a forest of pine, tall red gums, and dense scrub. Beyond the trees was a lake that looked deep enough to moor a luxury liner, but I saw no yachts, no speed boats, not even a dinghy. Australia probably hadn’t been populated long enough for folks to figure out how to spoil a quiet mountain lake.
Henry killed the engine and powered the doors open. “Wilcome to the Barossa Dam and Riservoir, which feeds water to regions in the south. The dam was completed in nineteen-oh-three and was such an engineering marvel, it was highlighted in Scientific American magazine. The retaining wall curves backward aginst the prissure of the stored water, and the resulting structure provides a doozie of a surprise. I’m not going to till you what it is, but the first person who figures it out gits a free drink.”
That’s all he had to say to start the stampede. Out the exits they flew, practically trampling each other in their quest for a freebie. When the dust cleared, the only guests remaining on the bus were Etienne, Duncan, and a bewildered Nora.
“Where’s Heath?” she asked, as she struggled to her feet. “I’ve gotta use the toilet.”
“I can help you, Nora.” I scurried over to her, Etienne and Duncan close on my heels.
“I can take care of her if you’d like to be in the running for a free drink,” offered Etienne.
“You grab one arm, Miceli,” Duncan instructed. “I’ll take the other.”
“It’s okay, guys.” I gave them each a grateful pat on the back. “This is girls’ work, right, Nora?”
She crimped her eyes at me. “You’re the girl wot’s from the orphanage, aren’t you?”
What the heck? Maybe it was time for me to live in her reality rather than expect her to live in mine. “You have a good memory, Nora. That was a long time ago.”
“Not so long,” she said, looping her arm in mine.
“Go on ahead,” I said to the guys. “I’ll catch up.”
“Are you going to help me find Heath?” she asked, as I walked her to the comfort station directly opposite the bus.
“We can both look for him after you’re done,” I promised, guiding her