No Good Reason

by Marg McAlister

  Jesse put both hands on the table, his fist clenched. “I don’t believe you. You didn’t just hear those names. Who sent you?”

  Well, there’s confirmation that I’ve struck gold, Georgie thought. “It is true that sometimes I do pick up a name, or a nickname – something that needs looking into. And when I saw you last time, I saw names that…I felt should be investigated further.”

  “Investigated further.” Jesse bit the words out, his eyes hard. “Who are you?” His eyes went to the tank top she wore under the embroidered soft scarf, as though suspecting that she was wearing a wire. “I don’t know that we need to continue any further.”

  He went to stand up, but Georgie held up a hand to stop him. “Please, Jesse. I think you should hear me out.”

  “And if I choose not to?”

  “If you choose not to,” Georgie said, “I may have to make it known that the good news you got just after our first reading had nothing to do with the strip mall down the coast. Rather it had everything to do with the heritage-listed property that certain people are trying to demolish, so that you can build your block of units.” She waited a beat before mentioning the name of the shell company he’d used.

  Opposite her, Jesse’s face grew pale. For a moment, Georgie thought about the other information that Bluey had passed on. If Jesse realized how much she knew, he’d be catching the first plane out of the country.

  Jesse’s lips grew tight, and he sat back and folded his arms. “And what do you plan to do with this information?”

  Reminding herself that his day would come, Georgie just shook her head at him, smiled gently, and said, “Nothing.”

  “Nothing.” He let out a crack of laughter. “I don’t for one minute imagine you would have bothered telling me all this, if there wasn’t something you wanted from me.”

  Here it was. She couldn’t muck this up: couldn’t make things any worse for Chris and Allie. The responsibility weighed heavy.

  “You’re right,” she said. “There is something I want – but it’s not for me. I just need you to undo some of the damage you have done, and then we can call it quits.” Quits, she thought, until whatever Bluey is talking about finally closes in on you.

  “Undo some of the damage.” He smiled mercilessly. “I don’t know what you mean. I make every effort not to damage people. I always pay compensation, I always go through the proper channels.” Again, his eyes went to her chest, and Georgie knew that he was worried she was trying to entrap him.

  She tapped her chest and shook her head at him. “You have no need to worry that I’m anyone other than who I say I am. But you’re not the only one with contacts, and you’re not the only one that has people with certain skills at their beck and call.” She met his eyes. “I’ve been called a psychic detective, by some. I’m not interested in bringing anyone down, I’m not employed by anyone. But I do like to see the little guys get a win. Especially against people like you, who have far too much power and influence for their own good.”

  Jesse narrowed his eyes again, and looked as though he was contemplating a walkout. His hands tensed on the table, but Georgie forestalled him with a hand in the air. “Last year,” she said, “your son Harrison caused an accident because of the drugs he took at a school kayaking program.”

  After what she had been saying about his business deals, clearly this was not what he had expected. Taken aback, he scowled. “Unfortunately, that is fairly common knowledge. And Harrison has paid for that. He was expelled from school, and his life effectively ruined.”

  Georgie shook her head. “No, ‘ruined’ is what you did to Chris Moore. A man who hadn’t done anything wrong, who’d always tried to do the right thing by his family, his clients, and the local community.” She looked at him steadily, remembering Jesse’s words: “Jesse Burns blames me. So he finishes me off, for no good reason other than he needs revenge.”

  Jesse looked impatient. “What happened to Chris Moore had nothing to do with me. White Sands College had an zero tolerance attitude towards drugs; as do many schools. You can’t hold me to blame if they decide to take the programs elsewhere.”

  “I can,” said Georgie, “and I do. You sit on the board of several schools and you’re on the board of companies where members have influence in schools. The Old Boys network. I know that you were behind many of those schools withdrawing their programs from Chris Moore. And then, of course, the word got around so other schools withdrew as well. A good reputation is a valuable thing, Jesse, and you knew that. This was no more than petty revenge.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “I’m not wrong. But I’m not going to argue with you about it. I’m offering you a choice. Undo what you have done. That will involve financial compensation for lost income, and you need to get those schools talking to Chris Moore again, get them to start rescheduling their outdoor programs with him. You need to talk to them and persuade them that he was a victim in all of this. Tell them that Harrison got caught up, as many young boys do, in events beyond his control.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “We both know that’s not true, that Harrison is out of control. But honestly, I don’t care what you say – as long as you fix what you’ve done.”

  “You’re asking a lot for someone who is not even an Australian national,” Jesse said. “Do you have a license for this?” He nodded around at their surroundings, his eyes alighting on the crystal ball again.

  “Don’t even go there, Jesse,” Georgie said. “As I said, I have contacts. Right now, I’m prepared what to trade what I know for you making things right again for Chris Moore. And it has to start happening within the week.”

  A muscle twitched in Jesse’s jaw. He glared at her, and then stared over her shoulder, clearly thinking of the best way out of this. “And if I decide that you and your demands are a load of psychic rubbish, what then?”

  “Then I make sure that what I know filters out to the press,” Georgie said. “You stand to lose a lot of money if it gets out that you were behind that heritage listing being hidden. And that’s just for starters.”

  After trying to stare her down for thirty seconds, Jesse stood up. “You were right when you said that I have contacts. Many people have found to their sorrow that they would have done better to leave well alone. I don’t forgive easily.”

  “No,” said Georgie, “I realize that, having learned something about your tactics. Harrison is fine where he at the moment at his rehab centre, but you can’t keep hiding what he has done forever. She stared at him again. “Setting fire to the Moores’ boat? And then having him raced off by a couple of your “employees”? I don’t know if that would go down too well with the police, since Chris had to file a claim for insurance. I’m sure they’d like to find out who was responsible.”

  “Harrison had nothing to do with that,” Jesse said unconvincingly.

  “I have a copy of the messages between you and your private investigators,” Georgie said. “Don’t make me go into detail, Jesse. I have plenty, and I’ll use it. And just in case you’re thinking of coming after me – or the Moores again – forget it. I’m not the only one that knows about this. If you start pushing it, you’re going to regret it – I promise you that.”

  Angrily, Jesse pushed the chair had been sitting on backwards out of the way, at which it fell over with a clatter. Behind him the curtain opened enough to let Scott step in. Clearly, he had been alert for any trouble.

  Jesse turned around and saw him, and his lip curled. “You don’t need to worry. I’m a respected member of the community – hardly likely to assault a woman.”

  “That’s good to know.” Scott’s usually good-humored voice was cold, his face unfriendly. “All done, now Georgie?”

  “Yes, we’re done.” Georgie nodded at Jesse. “I’ll give you one week, Mr Burns. After that, I’ll be expecting Chris to have news that schools have made contact. An apology from you wouldn’t go astray either.” She thought for a second, and added, “And by the way, Chris Moore doesn’t
know anything about all of this. Nor does his son. And what they don’t know, they can’t tell.”

  He pushed past Scott, who didn’t move, and then turned to look at Georgie as he is about to go out of the door. “My wife’s pendant. Do you know where it is?”

  “I have a fair idea,” she said. “And if you do the right thing by Chris, I might be persuaded to let you know.”

  He gave her one last glare, and disappeared outside. Georgie could hear him the cameraman asking him if he had received some useful information.

  She didn’t care what his response was.

  “You okay?” Scott came over to her, and wrapped his arms around her, resting his cheek on the top of her head. “He looked as though he would like to dismember you and string you up somewhere.”

  “Well, you didn’t expect that he would like it, did you?” Georgie laughed, but her heart was beating fast.

  “You’re trembling.” Scott rubbed her back. “Did he threaten you?”

  “No more than I expected. I think he’ll cooperate, though – he’s got too much to lose. And I told him that there were a few people who knew about it, so there’s no point him trying to silence me.” Georgie let out a long trembling sigh. “What is it about people like that? Why do they think they can just ride roughshod over everyone to get what they want?”

  “They’ll always be around, Georgie.” Scott rocked her back and forth. “But we can help counter it a little bit. And then there are people like Bluey, and the others he works for – whoever the hell they are. Eventually, most people like Burns get caught.”

  “I know. It’s just… the people they hurt along the way.”

  “Come on.” Scott picked up her bag from the back of the chair, slid the crystal ball inside, and handed it to her. “Let’s go find Allie, tell her it’s done. Then you’re going to finish breakfast before you start delighting the masses with Gypsy Georgie.”

  Allie. The thought of her made Georgie smile. She would be so happy to hear good news. She wouldn’t go into detail: it was better that the Moores didn’t know — it would be enough to know that things were moving.

  And as for Drew — it was up to him, whether he wanted to tell his father more about his role in it all.

  29

  End Game

  “I’m going with you,” Scott said in a tone that brooked no argument. “I don’t trust that bloke.”

  “I want you with me.”

  “You’ve taken more risks than usual, this time. We might think we have him, but cornered animals can get vicious.” He snagged the car keys out of the bowl on the table.

  “True,” Georgie allowed, picking up her bag and following him out to the car. “But he’s afraid of what else we might know. If he thinks he can make it all go away by schmoozing with his old school mates and throwing a bit of cash at Chris, he’ll jump at it. It’s just pocket change to him.”

  “Still.” Scott still wore a frown as he started the car. “He’ll make a bad enemy.”

  “But we’re leaving in a couple of days,” Georgie reminded him. “I’ll make sure he knows I want nothing more to do with him. By the time everything collapses around him, we’ll be long gone — and he’ll have more to worry about than some dodgy business with one heritage building.”

  “Hmm.” Turning the car towards Vincentia, Scott threw a glance her way. “After this, we’re just going to noodle along and see the country for a while. Pure relaxation. No crystal ball. No detective work. And no criminals.”

  “I’m on board with that,” Georgie said sunnily, treating him to a wide grin.

  He looked at her suspiciously. “That was too easy.”

  “I’ve consulted the crystal ball,” she assured him. “Nothing to see but beaches, gently rolling waves and lazing about in deck chairs.”

  “Just one thing wrong with that,” Scott pointed out. “We’re heading inland. You should have been seeing red earth, scrub and kangaroos.”

  Georgie put her seat back, wriggled into a comfortable position and pushed her sunglasses up more firmly on her nose. “Oops. Fooled again.”

  “And you pass yourself off as an eight-generation gypsy?”

  “As I keep telling everyone,” she said, “it’s not an exact science.” She reached over and patted him on the knee. “Don’t worry. I’m just as keen as you to play tourist for a while. After we see Jesse, we can draw a line under this and head off into the wild blue yonder.”

  “We’ll see,” said Scott. “We’ll see.”

  Jesse Burns had clearly decided to play the role of an upstanding and unfairly treated citizen, stiffly polite but cold. They all knew what lay beneath, but Georgie was happy to follow his lead. She would rather endure this version of Jesse than the stone-cold thug that lay beneath his private-school veneer.

  He met them at the door and led them into the sitting room, where his wife stood at the expansive glass windows staring out at the waves lapping the beach. Clad in expensive casual clothes with subtle designer labels and strappy sandals, her blonde hair artistically mussed, she looked as though she’d just stepped out of a photo shoot for Marie Claire.

  At the sound of their footsteps, she turned to face them, making no attempt to hide her disdain.

  “This is my wife, Jenna,” Jesse said. “Jenna, may I introduce you to Georgie and Scott?”

  Georgie didn’t care for the spite in his voice, but then, she wasn’t here to make friends. Or to change his opinion of her.

  “Pleased to meet you,” she said. Scott simply nodded.

  “So you’re the gypsy fortune-teller,” Jenna said, looking her up and down. “Jesse says you know where my pendant is.”

  “I may do,” Georgie said. Keep up that attitude, Lady, and you’ll never find out where.

  Jesse walked forward, put a hand on his wife’s arm and gave her a meaningful look. “We’ll get to that in a moment, Jenna. Let’s all sit down.”

  Georgie and Scott perched together on the edge of the cream-colored sofa, while Jenna took an armchair opposite them. She crossed her legs and stared straight at Georgie, swinging one foot.

  Jesse picked up a folder and crossed to Georgie. “Here. You should find this satisfactory.”

  Georgie opened it. It was some sort of accountant’s estimate of the earnings that Moore Kayaks and Canoes should have earned, dating from the school trip that had gone so wrong last year, with a total in red and something called ‘goodwill bonus’ added. That, she assumed, would be what might have been an adjustment in court for pain and suffering. But what Jesse Burns had done to the Moores would never get to court, and the ‘bonus’ didn’t really make up for what he’d put them through.

  Still, it was better than nothing.

  Wondering how Jesse had obtained those figures, she passed it to Scott. “What do you think?”

  He skimmed the estimates, stared off to one side while he did his own mental calculations, and then nodded. “Fair enough.” He looked at Jesse and echoed Georgie’s thoughts. “You based this on the school programs that were withdrawn, I assume?”

  “Something like that. Keep reading,” said Jesse.

  Georgie flipped the page over and read the letter underneath. It was addressed to Moore Kayaks and Canoes, and in formal language expressed Jesse Burns’ opinion that the business may have suffered unnecessarily through no fault of its staff after an ‘unfortunate incident’ involving his son. As someone who had worked for years to sponsor local businesses and encourage growth, he went on, he wished to make this gesture to show his support for a highly-respected member of the community and to assist him in coming back from a downturn.

  There was one more sheet of paper in the folder. Georgie glanced at it and felt a surge of relief. It listed half a dozen private schools in Sydney, with contact details for their outdoor program coordinators.

  She looked at him. “This last sheet of paper. Does that mean you’ve contacted all these schools?”

  “It means I’ve been in touch with people who have
influence,” he said unsmilingly. “They’ve made the necessary phone calls. Those schools will all confirm outdoor programs with Moore within the next week, if they haven’t already.”

  “Okay,” she said. “How will you get the money to him?”

  “He already has it,” Burns said. “Direct deposit. I got the details from his wife.” He bit off the word ‘wife’. “And I’ve had my secretary mail the letter.”

  Good, thought Georgie. Allie would be sensible about accepting the money as being no more than they were due. If Burns had contacted Chris, he’d be likely to have his offer thrown back in his face.

  She nodded and stood up. “I think we’re done, then.”

  “Not quite,” Jesse said. “Two things more.” His gaze grew colder.

  Scott, also standing up, moved closer and took her elbow as Georgie waited for him to go on.

  “The first thing,” Jesse said. “This means we’re quits. You don’t mention to anyone what we talked about on the day of the markets. Ever.”

  “You don’t need to threaten me, Mr. Burns,” Georgie said quietly. “Our agreement was that I wouldn’t go to the media with what I know, and that still stands. I have no further interest in you and your activities.”

  “And I’ll hold you to that,” he said. “I wouldn’t want you to be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life.”

  Georgie’s pulse speeded up, but she managed not to betray the stab of anxiety at his words. “We’re in agreement about that, too. What’s the second thing?” She felt Scott’s fingers tighten on her arm, and appreciated it that he didn’t step in like a lot of men would have.

  “The pendant,” Jenna spat at her, leaning forward. “It’s worth far more to me than that piddling little payment to Chris Moore. Where is it?”

  Georgie looked from one of them to the other, and thought about the kind of people who worried more about diamond pendants and power than simple kindness. She thought about Jason Hoy with his greasy hair and his part-time drugs business, and Chad Royston passing himself as a respectable personal trainer while he channeled drugs to school kids and peddled steroids on the side.