No Good Reason

by Marg McAlister

  Sitting back in the lounge room with his wife and daughter, he sipped slowly on his Glenmorangie whiskey, replaying recent events in his mind.

  Harrison stealing jewelry, taking off in his mother’s car, then going to see a known or suspected drug dealer at the pub, followed by vandalism at Chad Royston’s place and then a touch of arson at Chris Moore’s. It was unbelievable. How could he have given birth to such a child?

  His only consolation was that Harrison was, at long last, safely locked away. In a rehab facility that was, thank God, more like a prison for people with money. At least he was out of harm’s way for the time being. It would give all of them time to regroup.

  His wife tossed back a mouthful of wine, and said again, “So you couldn’t get out of him what he’s done with the butterfly pendant?”

  Jesse mentally counted to three, and with a huge effort kept his voice level when he replied. “I may be able to convince him to tell me in time, Jenna, but at the moment I’ve got other things to worry about. Just be grateful that the little so-and-so isn’t under our roof anymore.”

  Jenna grimaced. “Where did we go wrong? Nicholas and Leah, they’re both fine — well, Leah tends to party too much and get home too late, but she is going to be okay, you can tell. Nicholas — we can be proud of him. But Harrison?” She put her glass of wine on the coffee table in front of her, and sat forward, resting her forehead on her hand while she stared at the carpet. “I wish he was still overseas. I wish he would just go away, and stay away, and leave us alone.” She closed her eyes for a beat, and then looked up at him. “Can you organize that?”

  “I’ve been considering how I can achieve exactly that,” Jesse said, drinking more of the whiskey. “It’s not going to work to give him a job in anything I’m involved with. We can’t trust him, and he has no inclination to work for what he wants. I’m thinking probably overseas, if I can manage it.”

  Jenna abruptly stood up. “Bribe him, if you have to, so he’ll tell me where that pendant went. I don’t care if we have to pay twice as much as its worth to get it back, but I want it.”

  Jesse nodded slowly. “All right, Jenna. All in good time. For now, I’ve got to get these stupid seasonal markets over and done with, and then sign off on a few other deals that are going to make a huge difference to our financial future. I can buy you a dozen butterfly pendants, and not even notice.”

  “Well that’s very nice, Jesse, but you know that’s not the point.” Jenna stood up, turned on her heel and left the room. “I’m going to bed.”

  As she left the room, the door chimes sounded. He heard Leah going to the door and answering, and then she appeared in the doorway. “Dad? There’s someone here to see you.”

  He looked at her wearily. “Who the hell is it?”

  “No idea. Some slimy loser. I’m going upstairs.”

  With a groan, Jesse got up and went to the door. He recognized the person standing on the mat, and his brows immediately drew together in a frown. “What do you want?”

  Chad Royston held up his phone. “I have a video on my phone that you need to see. And a lot of damaged equipment that needs to be paid for.”

  Bluffing it out, Jesse just raised an eyebrow and folded his arms. “And would you mind telling me what this has to do with me?”

  “It has a lot to do with you,” said Chad. His gaze bored into Jesse’s eyes. “You see, I’ve installed security cameras around my home gym, because it has a lot of valuable equipment in it. I’ve also installed cameras in the house. Your son wasn’t able to break in the house — let’s be thankful for small mercies — but I’ve got some excellent footage of him trashing my place.”

  Plenty of thoughts went through Jesse’s mind. Uppermost was: Will this never end? Closely followed by: Thanks Harrison, that’s all I need, trash like this on my doorstep. He looked at the phone, still held up by Chad, and vacillated for a moment. His instincts were to tell the kid to get lost, but clearly he wasn’t prepared to go through the police. He was here because he knew the damage that the video footage would do to Jesse Burns’ reputation.

  “Your choice,” Chad said. “We can come to an arrangement to pay for the damage, or I go to the police, and this goes viral.”

  “Why is it,” Jesse said coldly, “that I feel you are most unlikely to go to the police?”

  “Possibly,” Chad said in an equally unfriendly tone, “because we understand each other. Don’t worry, this is not about blackmail. It’s just about making good the damage.”

  Somehow, Jesse felt deep in his heart that with people like Chad Royston, it was never just about adequate recompense for whatever wrongs had been done. No, that footage on Chad Royston’s phone would stay there, and probably rest on a thumb drive somewhere, until he next needed to exert pressure.

  Well, he knew people too. And if Chad chose to take it further, he’d regret it.

  “Come in,” he said, and stood back to let his enemy through the door.

  25

  Market Day

  “They couldn’t have had a better day for this,” Georgie said, strolling through the expansive waterfront markets with her fingers interlinked with Scott’s. She turned her face up to the sun. “What glorious weather.”

  “They were pretty lucky. At this time of year, you can never be sure what you’re going to get.” Scott tugged her in the direction of one of the food stalls. “Are we ready to have breakfast yet? I’m starving.”

  “Sure.” Georgie looked at her watch. “We’ve got a while until the fortune-telling tent is due to open.” She was glad that she had asked for a while to wander around before she set up as the market’s fortune-teller. This was just too lovely to miss.

  Scott wandered over to where a school parents’ group was busy turning out dozens of egg and bacon rolls, sausage sandwiches, or tubs of fruit salad for those who prefer to eat light. “Want an egg and bacon roll?”

  “Not for me, thanks. I’ll take the fruit salad. By lunchtime, I’ll be ready for something a bit more substantial.”

  Georgie stood back and waited while Scott went to fetch breakfast, taking in the variety of stalls and tents and gazebos that lined up along the waterfront. Jewelry stalls — always popular — food stalls, lapidary and rocks, general trash and treasure, plenty of potted plants and seedlings, and at least half a dozen tents decked out with racks of clothes. Down towards the end, she knew there was a stall from the local scuba diving centre, advertising their courses, and a jumping castle and pony rides for the kids.

  Down in one corner, she could see a gazebo sporting racks full of BoHo clothes that would be perfect for her. She gravitated towards that kind of outfit anyway, nice and light and comfortable, plus that sort of stuff meant that she always had plenty to draw on for her Gypsy persona if she wanted it. She’d go down and investigate later, she decided.

  Scott returned with his egg and bacon roll and handed her the fruit salad. Then his eyes fixed on something over her shoulder. “Action stations. The camera crew is here, following Jesse Burns around.”

  Georgie didn’t turn around, busying herself taking the lid off the container or fruit salad. “Is he coming this way?”

  “Nope. Too busy being Mr Big, nodding and smiling at all the also-rans, slapping people on the back… don’t know why the guy isn’t a politician.”

  “It could happen,” she said. “He wouldn’t be the first businessman who decided he wants to wield more power and influence.”

  “And to get on the gravy train for ever after.”

  Georgie nodded towards a group of tables and chairs, where a dozen other people were enjoying breakfast while they gazed around them. Not far away, a trio was setting up with microphones and amplifiers, and she could hear a guitar twanging. Georgie dipped into her fruit salad. Delicious: full-bodied, sweet, juicy. “Yum.”

  “Now he’s being filmed over there at the A Taste of the Coast stall,” Scott informed her, before taking a huge bite of his breakfast roll. He kept up the running commen
tary while he ate. “Yup, doing a taste test, having a few words to the proprietor. And… now he’s making a beeline for the farmer’s market stalls.”

  “As long as he stays away long enough for me to enjoy my breakfast.” Feeling a little queasy at the thought of having to deal with him later, Georgie directed her attention to the musical trio. She noticed the blackboard beside them, with the names of five or six different performers. “This is well organized. I mean, we’ve been to a zillion markets, but this is one of the better ones.”

  “Georgie!” A voice sang out from not far away, and this time Georgie turned around, recognizing Allie’s voice.

  “Hi, Allie. Sit down. Isn’t this great? It’s going to be so good for the area. How’s Chris this morning?”

  “He’s not too bad, actually. It’s almost as though so much bad stuff has happened that he’s becoming desensitized.” She sighed. “Which is not good. I think it’s doing him good to be here, talk to some of his friends.” Allie looked around her and gave a nod of satisfaction. “This does look good, doesn’t it? It was a lot of work, setting it all up, rounding people up to participate, getting the business people involved — but the closer it got, the more involved they all got, too. I think it’ll all be worth it.”

  “You should be proud of yourself, Allie,” Georgie said. “It’s people like you that towns really need. People who don’t just sit by and let others do it, but take action.”

  Ali went faintly pink with pleasure. “Thank you, Georgie. It’s really nice of you to say so.” She opened her mouth to say something else, but Georgie forestalled her, holding up a hand. “And don’t tell me that it takes a committee, and that a whole lot of other people helped to, I know all that.” She grinned at Allie. “Just take the credit where credit is due.”

  “Okay then. I will.” Allie looked around her, and then leaned over to say conspiratorially, “I just thought I’d duck over to see you while Chris is busy talking to a couple of his cronies over at the local business owners’ table. I’m really nervous. Do you think — do you really think that you can make Jesse Burns fix things?”

  Allie just smiled at her and gave one slow, definite nod, then sampled another spoonful of fruit salad before she spoke again. “I’m pretty sure of it. Of course, you can never tell with someone like Jesse Burns, they always think that they’re so privileged and untouchable. But…” She shrugged. “Armed with the crystal ball, plus a bit of knowledge from sources I can’t divulge, I think we’re going to see him pretty rattled, at least. And even if he doesn’t agree to anything today, I think once he goes home to think about it you might see something.”

  Allie nodded, and then pulled a face. “This is torture. Can’t you give me just a teeny clue?”

  “No, she can’t,” Scott said breezily, treating Allie to one of his full-wattage smiles. “Highly confidential sources. If Georgie tells you, they may have to kill her.”

  For a moment Allie’s face fell, and Scott added quickly, “Just kidding. But we do know things, Allie, that we can’t tell you about. What Georgie sees in the crystal ball is true enough, but…” He shot a sideways look at Georgie. “Let’s just say that we know people. Jesse Burns is not the only one who has contacts.” He finished off the last few mouthfuls of his roll and crumpled up the paper it had been wrapped in. “And now, Georgie, I think you’ve been sprung. Showtime! Here comes the film crew.”

  Georgie was glad that they’d had plenty of time to walk around first. She snapped the top back on the container of half eaten fruit salad, and handed it to Scott to put in his backpack. Then she shouldered her capacious bag (there was no way she was going to leave Great-Grandma Rosa’s crystal ball unattended in a tent on oceanfront markets) and stood up, the weight of the crystal ball bumping comfortably against her side.

  “I’d better get back to Chris. Good luck.” Allie’s eyes met Georgie’s, and in her gaze Georgie saw a silent plea. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

  Allie turned and walked away, saying in a cheerful voice as she passed Jesse Burns, “Good morning, Jesse. Wonderful day for our inaugural markets, isn’t it?” Then she kept sailing past, not waiting for his response. However, one of the camera crew called after her, “Allie! Allie — have you got a minute?”

  Ali paused in her flight, and turned around to look at him. Even at a distance, Georgie could hear what he said. “A few people have mentioned your name, one of them pointed you out a minute ago. Said you’re one of the prime forces behind all this — can we grab a couple of minutes of your time, just do a quick sound bite?”

  Allie looked flustered. “I’m not really a publicity type of person.”

  “It’ll only take about ten seconds on the final piece,” the cameraman reassured her. “Maybe over there against the background of the inlet? The water is so beautiful today, and we can film the tents in a row behind you…just for a second?”

  Allie looked back at Georgie and Georgie gave a nod and a thumbs up. Allie should absolutely get some of the credit for all her work.

  Allie capitulated. “Okay then, I guess that would be all right. Just a few minutes?”

  “Just a few minutes,” the cameraman promised. He glanced back to where Jesse was just walking up to Georgie. “Georgie, are you right to do a piece with Jesse in front of your tent after that?”

  Georgie looked at Jesse and smiled at him, a cheerful smile that said it was a beautiful day and she had nothing she wanted to do more than to walk around the markets and enjoy what he had put together.

  “Sure,” she said. “Jesse can be my very first customer. I’m looking forward to it.”

  By now he had reached her. His smile remained fixed, but his eyes didn’t carry any amusement at all, as he said “Me too. Nothing I like better than having my fortune told.”

  “I think you’ll be surprised,” Georgie said, “at the amazing things your future will hold.”

  26

  Reeling in the Fish

  Allie had excelled herself with the fortune-tellers tent. Knowing that Georgie wanted a private space to do her readings —and, more importantly, to have a private conversation with Jesse Burns — she had planned it carefully. The tent was basically a gazebo, but Allie had scavenged deep scarlet silk from somewhere to create walls. She had erected a kind of porch at the front, and placed on it a table draped in black, where Scott was going to engage with people who were waiting for Georgie. He had drawn the line, however, at dressing up in anything that remotely resembled Gypsies.

  “I’ll just take my seat here,” he said to Georgie, dropping a quick kiss on her temple. “You go inside and do your thing.”

  The camera crew got busy drawing back one wall to let in some light, without sacrificing any of the feeling of warmth and mystery that Allie had managed to create. She’d found a round table somewhere, and placed two deckchairs, draped with embroidered scarves, on either side of it.

  On another smaller table in a corner rested a flickering LED candle – a nod to modern technology. The shimmering light reflected off the glowing surface of the crystal ball, which Georgie placed in the centre of the main table.

  Satisfied, Georgie gave a nod. It was the perfect place to talk to people, to give them value, as well as a bit of fun.

  “Nice set up,” said the cameraman approvingly. He set up his tripod and directed them where to sit, moving the chairs closer together. “We’ll get some establishing shots later, showing you walking towards the tent, Jesse. I’ll capture Georgie’s face as you walk in, and then maybe you can ham it up a bit, look back at the camera, make some comment about wondering what you’re going to find out today.”

  Jesse settled into the chair next to Georgie, the two of them angled slightly towards each other so the camera could capture the expressions on both faces.

  “Okay, sound check,” the assistant said, glancing between Georgie and the cameraman. “You first, Mr Burns.”

  Jesse said a few words, and then it was Georgie’s turn, and the assistant gave a
thumbs up. “If you mess things up, feel free to start again. But don’t worry about it too much, just let it flow naturally. The stuff we got on the beach before this is gold, so maybe we can start by following up on that?”

  When they nodded, he went on: “Jesse, maybe you can tell Georgie you have news for her after what she foretold on the beach – or Georgie could ask how her previous predictions went.”

  “I’ll start,” Jesse jumped in. That didn’t surprise Georgie — Jesse had always struck her as the type who would want to take the lead. She smiled at him and nodded.

  The cameraman counted them in, and Jesse turned slightly towards Georgie. He looked at the crystal ball, and then looked back at her, a slow grin growing on his face. “Remember when you did that reading for me on the beach, Georgie? You told me I’d be having good news coming, a business deal?”

  “Of course,” Georgie said, looking interested and approachable. “So, how did I do?”

  “What can I say?” Jesse spread his hands expansively. “You were right. It wasn’t quite the news of the century, because I’ve always got so many business deals on my plate at any one time, but yes – I did get news that one of my developments had gone ahead.”

  “So it wasn’t such a big deal?” She gave a convincing chuckle. “That’s how it goes with the crystal ball. It can tap into things, it can show me what’s going to happen. But sometimes the size of the event might not measure up. At least you did get news.”

  “I did. My accountant rang me to let me know that a development application had been approved by the council for a new shopping centre down the coast. Just small strip mall, but it will make a difference to the locals. So, yes, I’m pretty happy about that.”

  Liar, Georgie thought, while still keeping her expression open and appreciative. She knew perfectly well what news Jesse had received, and it wasn’t for any small strip mall. The deal was buried a couple of layers deep, through a shell corporation, and he wouldn’t want that getting out.