Amy opened the door and walked over to the couch. Mechanically, she began to pack.
Nellie shot her concerned glances but Amy always turned away. She couldn’t talk about it. If she talked about it, she would crack wide open. She would cry and cry and never stop.
My fault my parents are dead.
Research. That always helped her. If she could get her mind going on a problem, she could forget what she didn’t want to remember.
While Shep made pancakes, Amy opened Dan’s laptop and searched for anything involving Amelia Earhart and Darwin, Australia. Amy clicked through photographs and found one taken of her at the Darwin airport. She was climbing steps to a building, holding her jacket and a notebook. It could be the very notebook she’d written the letter on! Amy peered closer. Visible on Amelia’s pinkie finger was a ring with a white stone. She clicked back to a photograph of Amelia in Bandung. No ring. It must be the ring she’d described, the one the strange man had sold to her.
She tried to magnify the image, but it just became blurry. Dan came over and peered at the screen.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m not sure,” Amy admitted. “Do you see the ring on Amelia’s finger? It must be the one she bought in Darwin. I’m trying to see it up close. I’m wondering why this guy tried to sell her a ring.”
“Well, it sure wasn’t a good luck charm,” Dan said. He made a noise like a plane spiraling down and crashing. Amy winced.
“It looks like a white stone,” she said.
“Probably an opal,” Nellie said with a quick look at the computer. She was on her way to the bathroom.
“Most likely,” Shep agreed. “Australia has more than ninety percent of the world’s opals. Even back then, there was a pretty solid mining trade going on, I’d imagine.”
“He said they were in a hole but not to worry,” Amy quoted.
Shep grinned. “In a hole? Sounds like Coober Pedy. It means ‘white man in a hole’ in Aboriginal language.”
“Coober who?”
“Name of a town, love,” Shep said. “Most of the buildings are underground because it’s so freakish hot. Even for Australia. And it’s the number one town in the world for mining opals.”
“Where is it?” Dan asked.
“Oh, a bit north of Adelaide. About nine hours’ drive.”
That didn’t sound like a bit, but maybe it was for Australia. Amy felt her excitement growing. They were getting close to something, she could feel it. She knew Dan could feel it, too.
“How long did our parents stay in Adelaide?” Dan asked.
“Let’s see … I picked up some tourists in Perth and flew them to Alice Springs and Uluru … or was it Shark Bay and Ningaloo … can’t remember, but I think I was gone three or four days. Then I swung on down to Adelaide to pick up Hope and Arthur for the Darwin trip.”
Amy and Dan exchanged a glance. They didn’t have to say it out loud. They knew it. Their parents had gone to Coober Pedy. They’d driven up from Adelaide. They just hadn’t wanted to involve Shep more than they had to. It could have put him in danger. Amy and Dan nodded at each other.
Shep pointed the spatula to Amy and then to Dan. “How did you just do that? You two just had a conversation without saying a word!”
They looked at each other again. It’s not that we don’t trust him. It’s that our parents were right — the less he knows, the better off he is.
“You just did it again! What are you saying?” Shep put his hands on his hips. “Wait a minute. Hold the phone. You want me to fly you to Coober Pedy, don’t you.”
Dan smiled innocently. “Your pancakes are burning,” he said.
After a breakfast of slightly charred pancakes, they loaded their gear into Shep’s Jeep and took off for the airfield. The sun was rising as they left the outskirts of Sydney and took a smaller road, snaking up into the hills. Finally, Shep pulled up to a wire gate and punched in a code. The gate opened and they roared in.
“Congratulations,” Shep said. “You just passed through airfield security.”
He parked the car and pointed out the plane.
“Um, it looks kind of … small?” Amy offered.
“Small? I can fit fourteen in that baby,” Shep said.
“You’re a good pilot,” Nellie said. “Right?”
Shep shrugged. “Except for those crash landings.” Chuckling, he headed off to the office.
“Funny cousin you’ve got there,” Nellie said with a yawn.
“C’mon, let’s check out the plane,” Dan said.
They circled around it, and Nellie climbed inside the cockpit. Dan followed. Amy stood outside, trying to imagine being high above. She’d been in a high-speed helicopter at night and that was terrifying; she’d been swept up by a paraglider, but somehow this small plane made her feel even more nervous. Maybe because she had time to think about how small it seemed and how wide the sky was in Australia.
When Shep headed out of the office and ambled toward them, it only increased her nerves. Shouldn’t a pilot be wearing a uniform? It was just Shep, in his khaki shorts and a syrup stain on his T-shirt.
“Are, um, w-we sure about this?” she asked, climbing in.
“Are you kidding?” Dan said, bouncing in his seat.
Nellie was staring out of the cockpit window. She didn’t answer.
“Nellie?”
Amy followed her gaze. She saw a plume of dust, rising straight beyond the scrub bushes.
Shep climbed into the plane, instantly making it feel smaller.
“It’s a willy willy!” Dan called, pointing at the column of dust.
“A who?” Amy asked.
“A kind of harmless tornado,” Shep said, sliding into the pilot seat. “And that isn’t one. We don’t get willy willys around here. I think it’s just a truck going fast on a dirt road. Strap in, everyone. We’ve got clearance to take off.” He put headphones on.
Dan looked disappointed as he strapped into his seat. Nellie buckled in, still peering out at the dust. “It’s not a truck,” she said. “It’s a Hummer. Can we get going?” she asked with sudden impatience in her voice.
“Got to finish the preflight check,” Shep said amiably. Just then the speeding Hummer crashed through the metal gate. Shep didn’t hear it over the noise of the engine whirring to life.
“Can you hurry?” Amy asked. Shep couldn’t hear her, but he gave her a thumbs-up from the cockpit.
Isabel Kabra was at the wheel of the Hummer. She screeched to a halt. Amy saw her head swiveling, squinting through the bright sunlight, trying to see inside the cockpits of the planes.
Slowly, the propeller of Shep’s plane started to turn.
“All righty, here we go,” Shep said. The plane started to swing toward the runway.
Isabel’s head snapped back. She was wearing big black sunglasses, but Amy almost thought she could see the glint of her eyes.
The plane taxied toward the runway.
Amy, Dan, and Nellie watched as Isabel jerked the Hummer with a squeal of tires. To their surprise, Isabel sped off in the opposite direction. But when Shep turned onto the runway, they saw Isabel pull into the field near the runway.
“What’s that blasted car doing there?” Shep asked.
“Sightseers?” Nellie suggested.
Shep taxied forward. They picked up speed. Amy relaxed against the seat. Isabel had been foiled. She was probably furious.
“Nyah, nyah,” Dan muttered.
As their speed increased, Isabel suddenly cut the wheel and bumped onto the runway.
“What the …” Shep exclaimed.
She gunned the motor of the Hummer. Amy could clearly see the terrified faces of Natalie and Ian in the backseat. Natalie had her mouth wide open in a scream.
“I can’t stop. I’ve got to take off!” Shep yelled.
“Go!” Nellie screamed.
The plane lifted, clearing the Hummer by inches.
The last thing Amy saw was Isabel’s face. Comp
letely calm. Natalie was still screaming. Isabel was willing to risk her children’s lives to stop them.
As soon as they were at cruising altitude, Shep tore off his headphones. “What was that?” he shouted. “That crazy Hummer almost killed us all! Did you see who was driving?”
“Did you see, Amy?” Dan asked.
“The sun was in my eyes,” Amy said. “Nellie?”
“That was just too scary,” Nellie said.
“I’m going to radio the airport and get that idiot arrested,” Shep said. He put his headphones back on and began to speak rapidly into the headset.
Dan and Amy exchanged a glance. There was no way anybody was going to arrest Isabel Kabra. And she was on their tail.
CHAPTER 15
They flew along the coastline, aquamarine water below and stretches of golden sand. Amy’s head began to nod, and she fell asleep. No wonder, Dan thought. His sister had tangled with sharks and poison needles, all in one day. That could wear a dude out.
After an hour, even a postcard view couldn’t keep his attention. Dan got tired of looking for kangaroos out the window. He hadn’t been this bored since Amy forced him to babysit her Barbies when he was five. He started to wonder about the Land Down Under. What was it under, exactly? He almost woke Amy up to ask her but decided it wasn’t such a great idea.
Shep’s voice came over a speaker. “There are snacks in the cabinet under the sink.”
“Dude! You’re speaking my language!” But Shep couldn’t hear him. Dan got up and foraged.
By the time Amy woke up, they were flying over red ground, vast and empty, and Dan had struck up a beautiful friendship with Australian snack food.
“How long has it been like this?” Amy asked, yawning.
Dan was chewing on a potato chip. “Forever. But check this out.” He held up a bag of chips. “These are chicken flavored! Is that genius or what? Are you hungry? I’ve got Tim Tams, Cheezels, Toobs, and Burger Rings. Can you imagine making a snack that tastes like a burger? Australians are our friends. And look, Violet Crumbles — the best chocolate bar in the world!”
“Don’t spoil your appetite, mate,” Nellie called in her Aussie accent. She was now wearing the bush hat Dan had bought in the airport. “We might be stopping for a tick at a chew and spew.”
“Chew and spew!” Dan laughed and sprayed potato chips. “Love it!”
“Try the chew part,” Amy said. “Lose the spew.”
Shep stretched and yawned.
“Want to take a break?” Nellie asked. “I can take over for awhile.” At Shep’s inquisitive look, she said, “I’ve been flying since I was a teenager.”
“That wasn’t so long ago. I’m not reassured.”
Nellie grinned. “Trust me. I’ve got a pilot’s license. Five hundred hours. Instrument flying. Night flying.”
She and Shep started talking about wind shifts, thrusts, and passenger loads. Dan leaned over to Amy.
“Did you know Nellie could fly a plane?”
Amy shook her head. “I guess it never came up.”
“Lots of things don’t come up with Nellie. Until they do.”
A flicker of doubt passed between them for a moment, but they shoved it aside.
Nellie took over the controls. Shep watched her for awhile, then stepped back into the cabin to talk to them. He leaned against the bulkhead and crossed his arms.
“Okay, something doesn’t smell right,” he said. “Did you know the person in that Hummer? Because it doesn’t seem like a coincidence that it showed up like that.”
Dan put on a look of innocence. “No?”
“Is there something you want to tell me? About what you’re really doing in Australia?”
“Okay,” Dan said. “I guess it’s time we told you the truth.”
Amy gave him a no way look.
“Back in Massachusetts, Amy and I broke into our school one night. No biggie, right? Except that our assistant principal, Mortimer C. Murchinson, is an alien. At night he takes off his face and turns into this eleven-foot-tall thing with eight arms …”
“… who plays for the Boston Celtics,” Shep said with a sigh. “I get it.” His gaze was searching as it rested on them. Then he turned and started back to the cockpit. “If you see any stealth bombers coming our way, just give a yell, okay?”
“You got it, Captain,” Dan answered.
Nellie flew the plane for the next hour, then Shep took over for the approach to Coober Pedy.
“Where is it?” Dan asked, craning his neck. All he could see for miles and miles was red dirt. The horizon was curved, as though he could see the edge of the earth.
“See those pyramids?” Shep’s voice came over the loudspeaker.
“They look like little hills of salt,” Dan said to Amy.
“Those are the slag heaps from opal mining,” Shep explained. “We’re going to fly right over the opal fields. I reached my mate Jeff this morning. He’ll pick us up.”
The plane eased down on the runway and rolled to a stop. The airfield was even smaller than the one outside Sydney. There were a few outbuildings and a couple of bush planes. They tumbled out and were hit by a wall of heat. Dan’s throat felt as dry as the dusty hills. Shep jumped down, looking as fresh as when he’d begun.
“Is it always this hot?” Dan asked Shep.
“Oh, it’s cool today. Only a hundred or so. Let me deal with a bit of paperwork and then I’m guessing Jeff will show up.”
Shep ambled into the office, emerging just as a dirt-caked four-wheel-drive truck roared down the road to the airfield. A tall, slim man wearing the usual khaki shorts jumped out.
“They let you land in that shonky orange crate?” he shouted in an Australian accent.
“Next time, I’ll land it on your head,” Shep answered. “It’s big enough.”
They clapped each other on the shoulders. Shep turned to them.
“Let me introduce you to my long-lost cousins,” he said. “Amy, Dan, and their au pair, Nellie Gomez. This is Jeff Chandler, best tour guide in the Red Centre.”
“Mates of Shep’s are mates of mine,” Jeff said. “What brings you to Coober Pedy? A little noodling?”
“We just had lunch,” Amy said politely. She fanned away an enormous black fly. “But thank you.”
He laughed. “No, noodling’s what we call searching for opals in the slag heaps. Lots of tourists love it. Odds aren’t good you’ll come up with a valuable stone, but there’s always a chance, isn’t there?”
“Actually, my rellies are here looking for some information,” Shep said. “About someone who might have lived around here in the thirties. He had a scarred face, and back in Sydney he was known as a criminal called Bob Troppo. He didn’t speak and he might have been crazy.”
“Let’s see. Scars on his face, criminal, keeps to himself, mad as a cut snake,” Jeff said. “Sounds like half the population of this place.” He laughed at Amy’s and Dan’s crestfallen expressions. “No worries. I know just who to consult. Climb aboard.”
They piled in, and he swung out onto the dusty road and hit the gas hard. He pointed to the opal fields. “If you go out there, you’ve got to keep your wits about you. Every year we lose a couple of tourists in the open mine shafts. They back up to snap a photo, and whoosh, down they go, and come a cropper. Got to tell you, we find it very annoying.”
“I bet it annoys the tourists more,” Dan said.
“No drama, they’re already dead.” Jeff drove through the center of town, which wasn’t very big. It looked like a Wild West town from a movie. The surrounding area was barren as the moon. The few people on the street wore broad-brimmed hats, and many of the men had long hair and mustaches. From every corner signs shouted OPALS and UNDERGROUND MOTEL. There was even a sign for an underground church.
“Where is everybody?” Nellie asked.
“In the mines or in their homes about now,” Jeff said. “Which means underground. Most of us live in dugouts here. They keep us cool during t
he day and warm at night.”
“Wow,” Dan said. “This is really the Land Down Under.”
“You’ve got it, mate! Population comes and goes — it’s about two thousand right now. And we’ve got about forty-five different nationalities, everybody looking to strike it rich. We all get along pretty well, until somebody decides to blow something up. Maybe we should stop selling dynamite in the supermarket, eh?”
“He’s kidding, right?” Nellie asked Shep.
“Afraid not.”
Jeff had slowed on the main drag but picked up speed on the outskirts of town. He roared along the dirt road with all the windows open. At least they’d left the flies behind.
“Here we are!” he called suddenly.
They were in a desolate area. Hills surrounded them, and they could see the now-familiar pyramid shapes of opal mining.
“Which is … where?” Nellie asked.
“Kangaroo Ken’s place,” Jeff said, grinning. “Don’t believe a word he says, but he does know everything about Coober Pedy.”
With that dubious endorsement, he jumped out of the car and headed toward one of the hills. Now they could see a multicolored door set into the hillside. As they drew closer, they saw that the door was decorated with countless flattened beer cans nailed to its surface.
“Interesting décor,” Nellie said.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Shep said.
“I can get you a mate’s rate if you care to spend the night. Ken rents out rooms, too.” Jeff opened the door without knocking and shoved his head inside. “Coooeee!” he shouted. “You home? It’s Jeff, mate! Got some folks who want to meet you!”
“No need to shout, just come on in before you let in all the blowies, you blooming twit!” a voice roared back.
Jeff winked at them. “Don’t let him bother you. He does the Aussie act for the tourists. He’s a bit deaf, so speak up.”
They crowded inside and Nellie quickly shut the door. They were in a small hallway. Faint light came from the two small windows near the door. There were hundreds of things tacked to the wall — license plates, bumper stickers in every language, T-shirts, candy wrappers, postcards. The items were so numerous that they were nailed over each other and made a kind of crazy wallpaper. Where there was bare wall, people had scrawled signatures and messages.