Author's note: A visit to Alice Springs, kangaroos, and a mysterious woman, all accompanied by a fair amount of worrying.

The culinary equipment section of the warehouse is lovingly based upon the premises of E. Dehillerin, Paris. Founded in 1820, the store is the greatest of all purveyors of everything required by the amateur or professional chef. If Christian Kane ever visited (and perhaps he already has), I suspect it would be very difficult to get him to leave. The place is an Aladdin's cave of cookery equipment. I'm also not kidding about the price of the stove.

As always, all Warumungu translations are at the end of the chapter.

LEVERAGE

In the blistering sun and heat of noon, Lizzie and Kip impatiently pulled Eliot and Charlie through the automatic doors of the retail warehouse, ready to retrieve Effie, Hardison and Parker.

Eliot fervently hoped that the place was still in one piece and that the entire Alice Springs police force had not been called in to deal with the three of them. He was heartened to see no police vehicles with lights flashing parked outside. He was not, however, prepared for the sight which greeted him as the doors whispered shut behind him.

A rotisserie, large and gleaming, sat near a row of high-end industrial stoves. Beside it sat an enormous double-fronted steel refrigerator, a huge dish-washer and two large, glass-fronted fridges with lockable doors. Several stainless steel culinary work stations were stacked alongside the dish-washer.

In front of the row of stoves stood Hardison, looking studious behind a pair of black-rimmed spectacles, laptop open and resting on a forearm as he muttered to himself. Parker, dressed in black, arms crossed and glowering, hovered on the other side of Effie, who sat, ensconced in a beautifully-upholstered computer chair, perusing the row of stoves. Her handbag rested on her lap, somehow lending her a vague but indisputable air of menace.

In front of Effie hunched a sweating salesman armed with an untidy pile of brochures, doing his best to field Effie's rapid-fire questions about each stove. She asked about its build and its temperature control. She demanded to know about oven dimensions, reliability, accessories and much, much more, and with every acceptable answer he gave the salesman almost bowed, as though Effie was a queen and her word was everything. A spotty young trainee assistant hovered behind Effie, and at Parker's curt nod, he carefully wheeled Effie forward to the next stove. Then Effie and Hardison would have a whispered discussion and the whole interrogation began again.

"Wait a sec, 'Lizbeth Grace," Eliot said, resting a hand on Lizzie's shoulder.

"But I want to tell everyone about Myrtle!" she replied, but she saw the smile hovering on Eliot's lips and lapsed into silence.

"Eff's enjoying herself," the hitter continued, "I gotta go buy a gift. C'mon. You can help."

Charlie and Kip followed behind as Eliot led the way through the warehouse to the accessories section, and they found themselves in an enormous, delightfully cluttered room lined and criss-crossed with wooden, boxed shelves which reached to the ceiling and were stacked with everything anyone could ever want in a kitchen.

Gleaming copper pans winked in the light and rows and rows of enamelled pie dishes sat like Russian dolls in ever diminishing sizes, overseen by open drawers full of everything from a bewildering choice of ladles to larding needles. Little sturdy mussel pots lay like black, armoured turtles alongside sprawling heaps of wooden-handled balling spoons.

As they walked through the small doorway into this magical place, Lizzie thought she heard Eliot's breath hitch and he paused for a moment as he took in the sight before him. She looked up at him and saw the reverence written large on his visage.

"Are you alright, Eliot?" she asked, suddenly worried that he was ill.

The light made Eliot's eyes reflect a hot cobalt blue, and he smiled a smile that Lizzie knew in her soul was one of pure joy.

"God, I love this place!" he said softly, and Lizzie would never forget the pleasure she saw on his face that day.

For nearly an hour they wandered the labyrinthine shelved aisles, the children constantly finding things and asking Eliot what they were for, and with the patience the Cherokee wolves in his heart gave him, he answered every question with humour and passion. Charlie watched and quietly laughed and enjoyed every moment.

Eliot knew by the pile of equipment he had seen stacked beside the rotisserie that Effie had already chosen everything needed for the new kitchen at Alinjirri, but he also knew she would not have picked anything for herself. So, he had decided, there was something he would like to buy for her.

After a long discussion, the children decided that Effie would prefer a copper fish kettle to a steel one, intended to replace the one with a huge dent in it, put there by a stray bullet months earlier by the late and unlamented Chong Bun-Tsui. The stubborn little cook managed at a pinch to poach large barramundi fillets in it, but everyone knew its days were numbered.

Lizzie and Kip tried to talk Eliot into also buying a huge, diamond-shaped turbot poacher, but Eliot shook his head and explained that the big Atlantic turbot was not a fish you found in the rivers of the Northern Territory. As compensation, the children found a large stock pot that they decided to give Effie as a Christmas present.

But it was time to go, and as the children laboriously carried their purchases towards the checkout, Eliot stopped for a moment as a thought hit him.

"Back in a sec," he said to Charlie, and returned to the rows of equipment. Hunting around, he let out a grunt of satisfaction as he discovered what he was looking for. He joined the children ten minutes later, and paid for all of their purchases. Then it was finally time to retrieve Effie and her two 'sidekicks'.

LEVERAGE

They found Effie and her entourage at the very end of the row of stoves, looking at a big double-oven with six burners and a griddle. It wasn't the most expensive stove in the store, but it apparently fulfilled all of Effie's requirements. They had been joined by a slender, impeccably dressed woman who looked as tough as nails. But right now she was listening to Effie intently.

" –and I'm expectin' a good deal, y'hear? If you think I'm payin' your bloody prices, you've got another thing coming, you bludgers!" Effie growled, and Eliot could sense the glee in her voice.

"Ah, what Ms. Mcphee is saying," Hardison interrupted smoothly, "is that payment will be by instant bank transfer and will come with an acknowledgement that there will be recommendations – internationally, I may add – regarding the excellent service she has encountered from your good selves," he continued, and eyed the woman who, it seemed, was the owner of the business.

The woman looked bewildered.

"But … I'm sorry, I don't –"

"Ms. Mcphee prefers discretion, ma'am," Hardison continued as though taking the woman into his confidence, "her … connections … are, shall we say … " he cackled to himself in amusement, "… connected, if you get my drift –"

"Enough!" Parker barked, eyes sparking. "That information's classified!" She scowled at Hardison, who looked suitably chastened.

"Apologies, Number Seven!" he stammered, and shut his mouth with two fingers making zipping motions.

"Too right, sunbeam!" Effie rasped at Hardison, and nodded at Parker as though congratulating her on her astuteness. "Well, you!" she turned her gimlet gaze on the rather disconcerted store owner, "Wotcha say? Are you goin' to do me a decent deal or not?"

The woman's eyes flicked from Effie to Hardison and then to Parker, who stood beside Effie like the guardian she obviously was. She glanced again at the purchases, all wrapped in protective foam sheeting and loaded onto pallets.

"I trust you can deliver to Alice Springs Airport by nine tomorrow morning?" Parker snapped. "We have a private cargo 'plane waiting."

The woman's mouth opened and then shut again.

"Um …" she stumbled, and Effie sighed.

"You don't want the business?" the little cook said with irritation, and tugged Hardison's sleeve. "Find me someplace else, sunbeam. These buggers obviously ain't got any idea what they're missing out on," she continued, and heaved herself to her feet, Hardison helping her up. "I'm off!" she declared, and began to stump her way towards the door. She saw Eliot and Charlie, children in tow, waiting beside the sales desk, and she let loose a sly wink. Lizzie and Kip giggled.

"Twenty percent!" the disconcerted owner said in obvious desperation. "I can do a twenty percent discount!"

Effie slowed down a little, but didn't turn around.

"And … and I'll throw in the rotisserie gratis as a thank-you for the business!" The woman added eagerly, knowing the large amount of money Effie and her compatriots had spent in the past several hours was a deal not to be jeopardized. The stove alone was nearly ten thousand dollars-worth of equipment. The discount she could deal with. "Your order will be on the 'plane by close of business today."

Effie stopped, straightened, and turned around. A terrifyingly grim grin graced her pudgy face.

"You got yourself a deal, chuckles!" she said, and patted her handbag as though it was a living thing. "Pay the lady, sunbeam!" she ordered Hardison, who smiled sweetly at the woman and the perspiring salesman.

Parker gave the very young and obviously shaken assistant an 'I'm watching you' gesture and a glare through narrowed eyes, and stalked off after Effie. The boy's mouth dropped open with unabashed admiration.

Hardison smiled his favourite shit-eating smile and touched the woman on the elbow.

"Listen … just to sweeten the deal, there's somethin' else I want to add to the order. Come with me …" and led her through to her office. The salesman ignored his lovelorn assistant and wiped his sweat-sheened face with a voluminous handkerchief and thanked God he had lived through the trauma with his hide intact.

"Ready to eat?" Eliot asked as Lizzie and Kip began to chatter about Myrtle.

Effie nodded, and heaved a sigh of pleasure.

"That was bleedin' ripper! That old bint has a reputation for rackin' up her prices and conning her customers. It was just lovely havin' a bit of fun at her expense. Serves her right!" she hissed, and slipped an arm through Eliot's. "C'mon, you young mongrel. Me old feet are bloody killin' me and me guts is thinking me throat's been cut. I hope this place we're goin' to serves decent tucker!"

And with two happy children yammering on like a pair of galahs and with Parker and Charlie behind them, they emerged into the blinding sun and climbed into the minibus to wait for Hardison.

LEVERAGE

The rest of the afternoon was spent relaxing by the pool.

Kip and Lizzie screamed and splashed and flung themselves into the water from the small diving board, followed by Parker, who did handstands before toppling into the pool feet first. Eliot and Charlie joined them, Eliot donning a pair of old cut-off jeans and diving seamlessly into the water. He apparently swam as well as he did everything else.

Nate and Sophie dozed on sun-beds under a huge umbrella. Nate was complaining of a sore back after lugging Sophie's many purchases around the centre of Alice Springs for three hours. Effie sat reading in the shade, a cup of tea beside her and her RAAF hat on her grey head just in case a stray sunbeam crept through the awning above. Hardison had opted to finish off the security system build. Swimming pools still made him a little leery.

The only interruption was the arrival of several pieces of artwork Sophie had purchased from local indigenous artists and which were intended for the walls of this, their home-from-home in Alice Springs.

It was a pleasant, relaxing few hours and as the sun dropped below the horizon, they all headed to a small Thai restaurant which lay on the outskirts of town. As always, it was one of Eliot's recommendations, and they were welcomed by the owner who had reserved a table away from the main restaurant and looking out towards the Macdonnell Ranges, now bathed in ever-changing golds and oranges, the shadowed blue of dusk creeping ever-upwards to the peaks of distant hills as they reached into the star-gleam of night.

Despite being in the centre of Australia the restaurant had an enviable reputation for excellent seafood dishes, and even Effie was impressed by the quality of the repast. For her it was a break away from the never-ending job of feeding hungry stockmen, family and always-starving children.

In-between servings there was much small-talk, mostly centred around Lizzy and Kip telling everyone about Myrtle, and for once Eliot allowed himself to relax. He sat back and studied the changing landscape of this land he loved, and let the laughter and conversation wash over him like a balm. The food was delicious and the wine was good, and he delighted in listening to Effie sample everything she could and then try and figure out how it was made. She interrogated the waiters, who instead of being irritated were pleased by the old woman's passion for the delectable creations placed before her. When the manager came by to check that everything was alright, he was charmed by Effie's interest. She was even more delighted when she was invited into the kitchens by the manager, who obviously knew Eliot and was happy to share his love of cooking with anyone who was a friend of the Oklahoman.

As the evening drew to a close and coffee was ordered, Eliot, replete and relaxed, studied his people. All were full of good food and had obviously had an excellent day. He looked intently at Charlie. His brother in everything but blood was tired, it was true, but for the first time since his beloved Alice had died, the strain on Charlie's handsome face had gone and his dark eyes were soft with happiness. Kip sat beside him and it was obvious both children were sleepy after a long and very exciting day. Kip's eyelids were drooping and Eliot thought Charlie might have to carry his son to the minibus.

Eliot felt the familiar ache in his chest when he thought of Alice. He had loved her like a sister, and the guilt of not being there to protect her from the evil that was Chong Bun-Tsui nagged at him. But there was nothing he could do about it, and so his job now was to keep Charlie and especially Kip safe, and to help them both move on from Alice's loss. It was what she would have wanted. As always, just for a moment or two, he faintly heard her throaty laugh echo in his heart. God, how he missed her!

A waitress arrived with coffee, and looking up and smiling his thanks, Eliot's mind was suddenly distracted by the young woman. Her returning smile was wide and unaffected, and he idly thought she was from somewhere like Malaysia or the Philippines, her black hair swept back and her beautiful complexion glowing in the muted lighting of the restaurant. She was lovely, and Eliot would, at any other time, have asked her for a date, but it was when her eyes caught his that he left his words unsaid.

Her eyes were almost golden. A pale, rich amber, they were so unusual that his breath caught in his chest for a moment. Flecked with gold, they gazed at Eliot with obvious appreciation, but the smile died on his lips. She studied him, suddenly unsure, but he quickly plastered the smile back on his face and thanked her for his coffee. She nodded although puzzled a little, and continued to serve coffee to the rest of the adults at the table.

Eliot's eyes followed her as she made her way back to the bar, and Nate, very full and feeling lazy, cocked an eye at the hitter.

"Pretty girl," he commented, somewhat unnecessarily.

"Yeah …" Eliot murmured, and Nate frowned, seeing how disconcerted Eliot was.

"You know her?" he asked. "Old flame, maybe?"

Eliot shook his head, still keeping his eye on the waitress.

"Nope. Never met her before."

Nate leaned over and refilled Lizzie's glass of pomegranate juice and then returned his gaze to Eliot.

"So … what's bugging you?"

Eliot didn't answer immediately but Nate knew from years of knowing his friend to be patient, and he saw Eliot's brow furrow in that tell-tale way which meant he was turning something important over in his mind. Eliot continued to watch the waitress until she disappeared behind the bar and through the swing door into the kitchen.

When he finally answered Nate's question he shifted in his chair and turned his coffee cup around in the fingers of his right hand.

"Don't know yet, Nate … I really don't know. Just … it's somethin' that I'd forgotten about. Somethin' that happened a lifetime ago, when I was …" he hesitated and then sighed, and Nate could hear the frustration in the man's voice. "I got some thinkin' to do an' then I maybe need to speak to Hardison." Taking a deep breath, he sipped his coffee and hitched a rueful eyebrow at Nate. "Doesn't matter. Not right now, anyway." He allowed his Lizzie-smile to crease his lips as the little girl he protected gave him a happy, weary grin as she sipped her drink. "We've got other stuff to think about."

Nate pursed his lips and nodded.

"Does this have to do with Ponomarenko?" he asked quietly.

Eliot shrugged.

"Maybe. Don't know yet. It's just a thought is all. I'll keep you in the loop, but I got nothin' right now, Nate. I have to think it through – if there's anythin' to think through, that is. And maybe make a call or two."

Nate glanced at Sophie, laughing at Hardison's description of Effie's interrogation of the hapless salesman, and he decided not to mention Eliot's concerns, especially considering how vague they were right now. It would wait.

Leaving Eliot to his pondering, he joined in the discussion about how Myrtle would arrive at Alinjirri on the back of a huge truck because she wouldn't fit into the cargo 'plane. Both Kip and Lizzie wanted to be there when she was unloaded.

Soon they would head back to the bungalow for a good night's rest, and Nate looked forward to peaceful sleep with Sophie beside him while knowing that Hardison's security system and Eliot's protective skills would keep his daughter safe.

LEVERAGE

It was nearly midnight when they arrived back at the bungalow. The now-automated entry gates opened silently and surprisingly unobtrusively. Stars hung above the dark edge of the bungalow's roof as Charlie carried a boneless and sleeping Kip into the house, followed by Sophie gently guiding Lizzie, barely wake, up the stairs to her bed on the mezzanine.

Within half an hour the house was settling into dreamless sleep, apart from one shadowed figure which sat on a padded dining chair, back straight and eyes glittering in the starlight streaming through a skylight into the high vaulted ceiling.

Eliot had changed into boots, dark cargo pants and a black teeshirt. Beside him on a small table to his right lay his Ka-bar knife, unsheathed, its clipped-back blade gleaming dully in the reflected light.

He allowed his breathing to slow and his whole body stilled and relaxed. His eyes became hooded, and his nostrils flared as his senses slowly became attuned to his surroundings. Within minutes he was nothing more than a still, unobtrusive shape in the night, unmoving but acutely aware of the space and air around him. His ears caught the slightest of sounds, and he did not have to rely on his sight to know exactly what was happening around him.

Now, in this world of darkness and danger, he was a wolf in all but blood, and any threat to those he loved would see them face a creature of the night that would instantly deem their lives forfeit.

LEVERAGE

It was Effie who rose first as the soft, dove-pink light of dawn crept through the huge glass doors and began to ease back the darkness in the quietness of the big bungalow. Used to being an early riser, she stumped through from her bedroom into the open-plan living space, only to be greeted by the sight of Eliot, still sitting in his chair. For a moment she thought he was asleep, but that impression was instantly shattered as blue eyes turned to look at her as they narrowed into a gentle smile.

"Mornin', Eff," he said quietly, lifting his knife and sliding it into its sheath. "Sleep okay?"

"Better than you, you silly bastard," she whispered in return. "You been sittin' there all night?"

Eliot didn't answer, but got to his feet and stuck the sheathed knife into his belt before grinning at Effie.

"I'll make tea," he said and headed for the kitchen, but Effie, despite her bunions, beat him to it.

"Don't be so bloody daft," she said as she gently shoved him out of the way. "You've been up all night so go get some sleep. The others won't be about for a couple of hours, so I'll make brekkie then."

Eliot watched her as she filled the big electric kettle with water and switched it on.

"Effie, I can get by for a couple of days with no sleep, darlin', so I'll be –"

" –fine, yes, so you like to tell me," Effie growled, and then she poked Eliot in the arm. "Go on, now! Get some shut-eye, you dopey mongrel. The nippers and the rest of us'll be dandy, no worries." She stared at Eliot, who hadn't moved. She sighed. "Are you bleedin' deaf?" she added, and her muddy eyes narrowed dangerously.

Eliot let out a noise that Effie thought probably indicated irritation, but she could see the tiredness in the hollows of his eyes, as well as a hint of something else. He was worried. Eliot Spencer and worry were constant bedfellows, but for it to show on his face meant that there was more to it than his usual concern over his team. But he did as he was told and turned towards the doors leading out towards the deck beside the pool, intending to stretch out on one of the recliners. A compromise, Effie knew, and she accepted it. She would have been happier if he had gone to bed for a couple of hours, but, she decided, it would have to do. But there was one more thing she needed to know before he settled down.

"Eliot?" she said, her voice a low rasp in the cool early morning air.

Eliot stopped in his tracks. When Effie called him by his given name, he knew whatever was on her mind was deadly serious. He half-turned and cocked an eyebrow at the little woman who thought of him as a son.

"Yeah, Eff?"

"I heard what you said to Nate last night. About Pono-whatsit. Something's rattling around in your noggin. And you sitting up all night with your knife beside you … is it that bad? Are our nippers in danger?" She narrowed her eyes. "Is that bastard coming after our nippers?"

Eliot allowed himself a weary smile.

"Not if I can help it. Anyway, don't worry. He's still in Europe as far as I know. It's just … well, we're not at Wapanjara an' I just like to be careful, you know that. And … you're right up to a point. I have some thinkin' to do about this woman that's hired Ponomarenko. It's a memory that I just can't put a finger on right now." He rolled a shoulder to get a kink out of it. "But I will. And soon."

And not waiting for Effie to reply he wandered outside into the burgeoning dawn, found a recliner and eased his body onto it. Pulling out the sheathed Ka-bar, he placed it on the low table beside him within easy reach. In less than a minute he was sound asleep.

Effie stood and watched him for a few moments, but then the kettle began to boil and she dug out some teabags and a teapot. She dropped the teabags into the pot and poured in the boiling water. As she waited for the tea to steep, she glanced back at Eliot, watching him sleep.

Ponomarenko. The Confessor. The very name made her blood boil. And now there was this bloody mystery woman to deal with.

"Bugger," she said, loudly and succinctly. Making her first cup of tea for the day, she settled down on Eliot's now-vacant chair and waited for the rest of her family to waken to a new day.

LEVERAGE

Eliot awoke two hours later on the dot, just in time to join in breakfast with his family. Afterwards Sophie drove Hardison and Nate crazy hanging the beautiful, large canvases she had bought, pictures of animals and dots and swirls of vivid colour all of which told stories of legends and echoed the lives of the people who belonged to this ancient land. Charlie did his best to explain to Lizzie that the paintings weren't seen by their makers as 'art' but as a way of telling stories defining ownership of the knowledge they contained. Lizzie didn't quite grasp the concept, but she especially loved the painting of stylised crocodiles and kangaroos and emus* sprawled in living colour across a dust-red canvas. For her it was almost alive, and she and Kip sat until it was time to leave staring at it as though the animals would live and breathe upon the canvas if they looked at it long enough.

That morning was spent at a kangaroo sanctuary just outside Alice Springs, where the children were allowed to bottle-feed orphan joeys and were given a tour of The Mob, a group of hand-reared kangaroos unable to be released into the wild. Eliot enjoyed watching Lizzie's reaction to the place, and she and Kip were both heartbroken on gently being told it was time to leave. But it was at that point they lost Parker.

It didn't take them long to find her. She was with one of the rangers in the nursery, the place where the pinkies were housed. These were very young, pink-skinned babies still attached to a teat. Hardison was the one who found her sitting cross-legged on the floor of the nursery, very carefully holding a brightly-coloured home-knitted sock to her chest. Inside the sock was the ugliest version of a kangaroo Hardison had ever seen, a bald, pink thing with floppy, useless ears and bulging eyes with the eyelids still fused shut.

Parker was humming.

The pinkie was snuggled comfortably against the warmth of Parker's chest, the vibration of the low hum lulling it into a happy doze, and Hardison would remember for the rest of his life the look of pure joy on Parker's face. It almost broke his heart when he had to tell her it was time to go.

She sat quietly in the minibus as Charlie drove them to the airport where the Cessna awaited them, purchases now loaded and with everything ready to go. They were flying on to the small airport near Uluru, where Eliot and Charlie would show the children the great, red rock which meant so much to the Pitjantjatjara Anangu people.

As the plane took off, Sophie leaned over and touched Parker's arm. The little thief was so deep in thought that she started, eyes wary and a little nervous.

"Are you alright, Parker?" Sophie asked as she heard Kip let out a shriek of delight, the little boy peering out of the window as the Cessna climbed steeply into the sky.

Parker frowned. Sophie recognised it as the frown Parker wore when something puzzled her. She had seen it on the young woman's face when she had tried to deal with being a friend with Peggy Millbank, and she had also seen the helpless confusion on Parker's face when she did her best to understand Eliot's passion for cooking. Passion and empathy did not come easily to Parker, unless it was about dollar bills.

"Why am I feeling like this?" Parker asked, confusion in every word.

"Feeling like what?" Sophie always did her best to encourage Parker to understand her feelings, knowing how difficult it was for her, especially at moments like this when Parker was feeling unsure of herself.

Parker's face screwed up as she tried to explain what was going on with her emotions.

"Animals, Sophie! Animals! I … I like Kevin!" she blurted, "I really do! But I hate horses! So why do I suddenly like Kevin? And baby kangaroos? Even though they're ugly and pink and useless?" Parker flapped her hands at her own chest. "They make me feel … oh, I don't know … OH! Oh, yes I do! They … they make me feel …" she suddenly found the word she was looking for. "Smooshy! I feel all smooshy in here … in my chest! Why do I feel like that, Sophie? I mean … when Sparky was born and I helped, I felt really, really happy, but then he was little and fluffy and cute like Bunny, but Kevin's a grown-up horse and he's bored all the time and he doesn't like me much, but I like him! So what's going on with me, Sophie? Huh? I felt bad leaving the sanctuary. I feel sad that there are so many orphan 'roos. I feel … mixed up."

She stopped, flustered, and then looked bleakly at the grifter. Her confusion was obvious.

Sophie patted Parker's hand where it lay on the arm of the seat.

"Parker … listen," she said patiently. "Remember the orphans in Serbia? Remember how you wouldn't leave any of them? You made us get all of them out of danger?"

Parker snorted.

"Well, yeah! Duh!" she declared.

"And you like foals, right? And you love Gertie, and she loves you too. Remember how excited you were when Eliot told us Gertie was going to have a baby?" Seeing Parker's face settle into further confusion, she continued hastily, trying not to rattle Parker too much. "Oh, for goodness sake, Parker – remember when Lizzie was born? You couldn't wait to meet her. She has been a part of your life for seven years, and she adores you. Kip adores you."

Parker's face cleared for a moment, and she grinned.

"Kip thinks I'm awesome!" she retorted, remembering fist-bumps and a proud little boy who said Parker could do anything.

That made Sophie chuckle.

"Parker … you're like Eliot in a way. You two … you spent so long not feeling, for different reasons, and it can throw you when feelings come along when you least expect it. And there's nothing wrong with that. At least you don't stick forks in people any more, which is progression." She raised a questioning eyebrow as a thought struck her. "You don't, do you? Fork people?"

Parker waved a dismissive hand and let out a Parkerish snorkle of derision.

"Noooo … I haven't done that in years!" she said, shaking her head. "Unless you count that putz from Tulsa who tried to put his hand up my blouse." She grinned nastily. "I forked him really, really hard!"

Sophie had to allow for that one because the man, a dealer in stolen pet dogs used as bait in dog-fighting rings, had truly deserved his forking, and not only because of his wandering hands. Parker had then tazed the man for a lot longer than was good for him.

"Yes … well … that's what I mean, Parker. You feel, no matter that you don't understand sometimes why you feel. And I know you don't like it when these feelings make you uncomfortable or sad. But that's okay. And if they make you happy … then just go with it."

Parker looked doubtful.

"Seriously?"

"Look, if it's the same feeling you get when someone hands you a million dollars in cash –" Sophie saw the joy spark in Parker's eyes at the mention of her favourite thing, " – then just accept it for what it is. If it makes you feel good, then why not?"

Parker thought about the conversations she had had with Eliot through the years. The talk on the mountain, when he told her how alike they were in that they were the ones who could make the difficult decisions. The decisions the others couldn't make because he and Parker could put feelings aside and be practical and honest about the outcome. She had also listened to Eliot explain to her how he expressed his passion … his feelings … through the food he cooked for himself and others. Eliot Spencer, the man who for long, violent years had detached himself from feeling anything. And now he cooked and growled and cared and loved them all, despite how hard it was for him to deal with the feeling all of that involved.

So, Parker decided, perhaps … perhaps these feelings, whatever they were, were okay. And the baby pinkies really were adorable. Maybe they needed money. Parker had money. Lots of money. Not the banknotes, of course, because she loved those, but perhaps she could give them some jewels. She had plenty to spare, and they were untraceable. The jewels could pay for the pinkies' upkeep for years, and it was Christmas.

Happier now, she sat back in her seat and told Sophie all about the plans she and Kevin had to beat the crap out of every other competitor at the Tennant Creek Campdraft.

LEVERAGE

The great whaleback of red sandstone rose out of the arid land, rising to over a thousand feet into a sky beginning to turn from pale, washed-out blue to the beginnings of a stunning sunset.

This was Uluru, for sixty thousand years the home of ancestral beliefs and Dreaming trails of the Pitjantjatjara Anangu people. Here lay their laws and their stories, a place for their ceremonies and rites of passage for millennia.

Lizzie followed Eliot up a rise in the land several miles from the huge rock, her hand in his, because she knew how important it was to show respect and both she and Eliot wore their medicine pouches over their hearts. Inside each one were objects which helped them remember who they were in this world, reminders of family and belonging, and both of them belonged heart and soul to this ancient land.

They had parked the rental vehicle at a nearby viewing point and Charlie and Kip led the way. Hardison and Parker walked in the rear with Effie, Parker carrying a camping seat so that Effie could sit down when they reached their destination. Nate and Hardison carried a chill box containing cold drinks to counter the extreme heat.

Charlie reached the brow of the hill and waited, the light wind ruffling his shirt and the mass of dark curls on his head. Kip stood beside him, the little boy's mouth wide with wonder.

As Eliot slowed to a halt beside Charlie, Lizzie let out a gasp as she saw the massive rock. She tugged on Eliot's fingers and he looked down at her, his blue eyes sombre in the shadow of his stockman's hat.

"Can we get closer?" she asked, her voice no more than a hoarse whisper. "It's … it's …" but she could not find the words to describe the sight of this magical place.

Eliot shook his head.

"Here's just fine," he answered. "Remember what I told you? This is a special place, and we can see pretty well from right where we are. And when the sun sets, you'll see how special it is."

"That's just about now, right?" she said breathlessly.

Eliot's Lizzie-smile lit up his face.

"Yeah, sweetheart. Anytime now. C'mon." he pulled her gently to a long seat fashioned from a fallen Mulga tree and sat her down. Kip joined them as Charlie helped Effie up the final part of the incline and set out her chair.

"Man, will you look at that!" Hardison said under his breath as he studied the vast, red mass, the shadows lengthening in the folds of its giant sides.

"Can I climb it?" Parker asked reverently, studying the fall of Uluru's steep sides and long reaches of smooth rock.

"Nah," Charlie answered. "You used to be able to do that but all those bloody tourists left litter and worse up there. This is a place that's sacred, Parker. You understand?"

Eliot wasn't too sure that she did, but Parker nodded.

"It would be like climbing up the side of a church, or … or a mosque," she said, and the seriousness in her voice made Charlie smile. "You have to respect the place. I get that. The tribe wouldn't like it." She watched Uluru suddenly begin to change in colour as the sun started to go down behind the horizon. "It's beautiful."

"That's one of the reasons we came," Eliot explained, "plus Charlie wanted Kip an' 'Lizbeth Grace to understand how important places like this are to the tribes who own them."

Eliot sat down on the soft, sandy ground and Lizzie sat beside him, Kip settling beside Lizzie. The two children were handed a soft drink each to keep them hydrated, and everyone else either sat on the old mulga trunk or the ground. Parker found a rock and perched on it, cross-legged, and Eliot watched her as she turned her face to the wind, eyes fixed on Uluru, and he thought she was like a creature of the earth and the skies, grown wild and free in this place, her blonde hair whispering in the quiet land.

Effie sat in her camp chair and stilled, her gaze captured by this country she adored, and absorbed the love of her family around her. She had her nippers and she had Eliot's team, all of whom she loved dearly. And she had Charlie, still grieving for his Alice, but beginning to see a life beyond her loss, for which she was very grateful.

Charlie stood and watched as the great rock began to change colour as the sun dropped lower and lower. Rich peach and gold flowed across the surface of the rock, chased by shadows like hunters tracking an emu, and the sound of the wind echoed in the hollows and dark, hidden creases running down the steep sides. Deep within those hollows and caves were paintings on dry red walls, the Ancestors telling the stories and laws of the people Uluru guarded. Silhouetted against the lowering sun, Charlie Jakkamarra turned, his dark eyes full of the soul-memories of his people. He motioned at Uluru, a changeling of the earth, the shadows moving and writhing in the red-gold light.

"They say when Mala people first came here, they found this rock and decided to make it a ceremony place, and raised Ngaltawata, the ceremonial pole," he said softly. Pointing again at Uluru, he smiled as Parker leaned forward to listen. Parker loved stories of all kinds. "See, when the people began to prepare the ceremony, two strangers appeared. They were men of the Wintalka, from the South. They wanted the Mala to join them but the Mala said no, because they had already begun their ceremony."

"What did they do, Charlie?" Lizzie asked, enthralled.

"Shhh …" Sophie whispered. "Listen and you'll find out."

"So," Charlie continued, "the Wintalka men were upset and went away. They were so angry they made a huge devil-dog spirit called Kurpani, who chased the Mala people."

Sophie heard Lizzie and Kip both gasp in horror.

Charlie was warming to his subject matter, and his voice dropped into a growl.

"This bad spirit could change shape … he was a mamu … a ghost. And the people couldn't see him coming."

Lizzie clutched Kip's arm, and the little boy clasped Lizzie's hand in return. The wind suddenly moaned amongst the spinifex and both children jumped. Eliot did his best to hide his smile.

Uluru was burnished orange-red now, and Charlie's bony frame was stark and unearthly.

"Luunpa, Kingfisher Woman, could see Kurpani coming and warned the people, but they didn't listen and some of the men were killed. So the people ran away with the devil-dog chasing them. But the Ancestors are still here, and Luunpa, she became this rock." Charlie hunkered down and studied the children, now mesmerised by the rich, ochre-red of Uluru as it was washed by the light of the setting sun.

"There is a lesson here, pika-pikka. Do you know what it is?" he asked.

Lizzie and Kip shook their heads vigorously, eyes wide.

Charlie studied them closely.

"It means that you should always watch out, and listen to warnings of danger. Do you understand?"

The children were silent as they thought about it, but Charlie pressed the issue.

"Do you understand?" he repeated, and this time Lizzie and Kip nodded. Their faces told him they had finally got it.

Charlie relaxed then, his white grin crinkling his dark eyes. The children would remember the warning far more easily if they had a story on which to hang it, and Eliot was grateful beyond measure for Charlie's common sense.

The sun was almost below the horizon, and they would have to leave soon and return to the hotel just a couple of miles away where they would spend the night. The following morning they would fly back to Wapanjara and safety, and Eliot could relax.

But it was the dull amber of the lingering light that suddenly tickled his memory, thinking of the waitress's amber eyes, and finally … finally … a name materialised in his mind.

Hardison dropped down beside him and proffered the hitter a bottle of water as he watched Uluru become a distant hulk of darkness beneath an endless drift of stars. But Eliot didn't take it.

He stared at the last hint of light, and frowned.

"Hardison … I want you to do somethin' for me when we get to the hotel."

"Sure. What's up?"

"I finally got a name for you. I don't know if it's anythin' yet, but I need to know where she is."

Hardison's eyebrows headed for his hairline.

"She?" he asked, surprised.

"Yeah. She. The South American connection. Her name is Isabella Mengue."

To be continued …

LEVERAGE

Pika-pikka – Warumungu word for 'children'.

* The painting Lizzie loves exists. By Bardayal "Lofty" Nadjamerrek (c. 1926–2009), who was a Kunwinjku Aboriginal artist of the Mok clan. He is currently referred to by his skin and clan as "Wamud Namok", following the Kunwinjku custom of avoiding use of the name of deceased persons. I have a print of the painting on my living room wall.