Michele Bravo Playing With Fire Ch 33

There is something fundamentally wrong, thought Gus Keller, in staying at the home of the man you have been hired to kill. In smiling and smiling, and being a villain.

They had arrived at Lightning Ridge that evening. Keller had been surprised at his first sight of it, rising out of the desert. It had looked like a normal town – albeit of only two thousand people – and somehow in his reading over the past couple of days he had gotten the impression that most of the buildings in the town had been built underground, because of the heat of the day – over 100 degrees Fahrenheit each and every day during the winter…and hotter than that during the summer.

And indeed, when he stepped out of the air-conditioned car it was like walking into a furnace.

The six foot six Alain Pretorius had met them at the door of his home…which did appear to have been half built into a hillside. It was a luxurious home…in an understated, tasteful fashion.

Keller had watched as Pretorius had greeted Marguerite Zelle warmly..extremely warmly, he’d thought in an annoyed fashion. And she had returned his warm smile. He’d seen that before…the way her eyes and face had lit up when she spoke up with Pretorius, the first time they had met.

Pretorius’ smile faded…only slightly… as he turned to greet Gus Keller. He extended a large, well-manicured hand and Keller took it. Keller half-expected Pretorius to try to crush his hand to show off his strength, but it was just a firm handshake, nothing more.

“We’re ready for dinner,” he said in his low baritone. “I expect you’re famished.”

The meal was delicious, and Keller and Marguerite (or as Keller knew her, having lost his memory, Taran Tula) ate with enjoyment. Keller liked to watch her eat…not so much because she was particularly attractive when she ate, but just that she actually did eat…didn’t pick at her food like so many women nowadays who were afraid to eat and preferred to look skeletal rather than the slightest bit well fed.

After the meal, Pretorius took them on a tour of the living room, where dozens of examples of opal from Lighting Ridge were displayed.

Keller watched as Taran Tula moved from opal to opal, gazing at them with rapt attention. She picked each one up, and tilted it this way and that, watching the play of fire within the living gem.

He looked up to see Pretorius watching her as well. He too seemed fascinated by her….

Keller swore to himself. There is something fundamentally wrong about all this, he thought, sadly.