Michele Bravo Playing With Fire Chapter 25

1.

When Michele Bravo woke up the next morning, it was to feel Gus Keller cuddled against her back, and his arm was draped over hers. It felt very warm, very comfortable.

She couldn’t possibly be falling for Keller, could she?

No, of course not. She wasn’t responsible for her physical reactions first thing in the morning.

Very slowly, so as to avoid waking him if at all possible, Michele scooched over and got out of bed. She turned back to see if she had waked him, and his eyes were closed and he was breathing regularly.

She went into the bathroom and performed her ablutions. When she returned to the bedroom, she saw that Keller had awakened. Not only that, he was standing in front of the mirror, clad in his underwear, and his eyes were glistening.

Was he crying?

“Something wrong, Keller?” she asked.

“No,” Keller responded, pinching the moisture away from his eyes. “Just…the briefest of stabs of pain through my head when I got up…but it’s disappeared now, and I feel great.”

“Well, as long as it was only a brief stab,” Michele said. “If you’ll get dressed, we’ll go down to breakfast. Then we’ll have a chat with Janasz. He is getting anxious, I told him we’d take care of Pretorius before the week is out.”

“So soon?” said Keller.

“Yes. Problem? I thought you were getting impatient.”

“No problem. Just an observation.”

“Okay. Good. Well, like I said, we’re going to do it sometime this week. Time to get this show on the road.”

II.

When Michele and Keller arrived in the dining room, Janasz and Adams were already there. There was a sideboard lined with covered silver dishes, and the Americans helped themselves to scrambled eggs and toast.

Janasz cleared his throat. “You were quite a hit with Alain the other night, Marguerite,” he said. “He has invited you up to his spread at Lightning Ridge. He wants to show you the opal mines.”

“Very good,” said Michele. “I was hoping he would do so. You two are coming also?”

“Yes – he invited you and “your friend,” as he called Mr. Keller here, and Adams and I go up there frequently, anyway. So we invited ourselves along.”

“Good, this is shaping up nicely then. When can we get started?”

“It’s a long drive. If you’ll pack enough for a week. I’ve got some calls to meet. Shall we leave in two hours?”

“Ten o’clock? No problem.”

Michele and Keller packed up their bags. They did it quickly and efficiently, and after that they were at a loose end.

“Feel like a swim, Keller?” Michele asked.

“Sure.”

III.

Gus Keller had woken up that morning, feeling the warmth of a woman’s body next to his, and his arm draped familiarly over her hers. For a few seconds, he was lost in the pleasure of it. Then, she began to move, and he didn’t want her to know he was awake so he lay unresisting, his eyes closed, until he heard the sound of the bathroom door closing.

Then he opened his eyes and sat up. As he achieved the perpendicular there was a sudden lance of pain through his head, but it disappeared as soon as it came and he felt fine.

There was only one problem.

Keller strode over to the mirror and looked at himself. He still didn’t recognize himself. He still didn’t know who he was. A good night’s sleep hadn’t helped at all.

A wave of despair washed over him. What was he going to do?

“Something wrong, Keller?”

He twisted to look at Taran Tula – aka Marguerite Zelle.

“No,” he said quickly, pinching the moisture away from his eyes. Quick, he thought. Tough guys don’t cry. “Just…the briefest of stabs of pain through my head when I got up…but it’s disappeared now, and I feel great.”

“Well, as long as it was only a brief stab,” she said. “If you’ll get dressed, we’ll go down to breakfast. Then we’ll have a chat with Janasz. He is getting anxious, I told him we’d take care of Pretorius before the week is out.”

Keller’s heart sank. “So soon?” he said.

She stared at him and said briskly. “Yes. Problem? I thought you were getting impatient.”

“No problem,” he said with deliberate casualness. “ Just an observation.”

“Okay. Good,” she said, in her calm, deliberate, matter-of-fact way. “Well, like I said, we’re going to do it sometime this week. Time to get this show on the road.”

She said that last very briskly. Very….determinedly. He felt a little sick.

When they arrived in the dining room, Janasz and Adams were already there. There was a sideboard lined with covered silver dishes. Keller watched Marguerite lift each dish as she searched for suitable foodstuffs, and finally settled for scrambled eggs and toast. He followed her lead.

Janasz coughed. “You were quite a hit with Alain the other night, Marguerite,” he said. “He has invited you up to his spread at Lightning Ridge. He wants to show you the opal mines.”

Lightning Ridge. Where the hell was that?

But Marguerite Zelle said calmly, “Very good. I was hoping he would do so. You two are coming also?”

“Yes – he invited you and “your friend,” as he called Mr. Keller here, and Adams and I go up there frequently, anyway. So we invited ourselves along.”

Her friend. Her friend. Memory came flooding back. Not the memory of who he was, unfortunately, but the memory of what had gone on last night, before he’d had to ditch the party and go upstairs with a splitting headache. She…Zelle, had been practically climbing into Pretorius’ lap, and he had been enjoying it, as who wouldn’t?

But Marguerite was still talking.

“Good, this is shaping up nicely then. When can we get started?”

“It’s a long drive. If you’ll pack enough for a week. I’ve got some calls to meet. Shall we leave in two hours?”

“Ten o’clock? No problem.”

Keller followed Marguerite back up to their room. It didn’t take them long to pack at all.

Then, she turned to him. “Feel like a swim, Keller?” she asked.

Oh, yes. “Sure,” he said.