In Good Hands: Book 5 Georgie B. Goode Gypsy Caravan Cozy Mystery

by Marg McAlister

  "I’ll pick you up. Six thirty unless we run into problems, and if we do I’ll let you know."

  "Done."

  Layla gave him a cheery wave, and then hurried off to find Georgie. She'd better tell her what she had found out, before she forgot it all.

  Chapter 10

  When Georgie walked back to Scott’s camper, she could see him sitting in his comfortable old chair with his head tipped back and eyes closed, enjoying the little patch of sunshine outside his door. On his lap was a small mound of white fur, topped with a pink ribbon—Jaxx’s dog, Trixxi. She slowed down as she approached the pair, enjoying the sight: Scott with his broad shoulders and jeans and his booted feet propped up on a footstool; his hand lazily stroking a fluffy white designer dog. She felt a rush of affection. Scott was so confident in his own skin, he wouldn’t care what sort of picture he painted.

  “So this is what you do when you’re supposed to be on guard duty,” she said when she reached them, standing with her hands on her hips. “A dozen people could break into Jaxx’s motorhome and you wouldn’t see them.”

  “First of all,” he said, without opening his eyes, “they wouldn’t have to break in, because nobody ever seems to bother to lock it. Second of all, I have supersonic hearing so no bad guys have a chance of getting by me.”

  Trixxi opened an eye, gave Georgie a long-suffering look, then closed it again and snuggled in more closely.

  Georgie looked around, spotted a couple of garden chairs in the landscaped lot behind the camper and went to fetch one. “Don’t get up. I’ll join you.” She positioned it next to his and reached across to stroke Trixxi’s head, her hand brushing Scott’s as she did so. He turned his hand over, linked his fingers with hers and squeezed. “How’s Tammy? Jerry was over here chatting when he got the news. He was out of here like a bat out of hell.”

  “She’s okay; Seth is pretty sure it’s just a sprain - she can put weight on it. We’ll know more when they get back.”

  “Jaxx driven you to distraction yet?”

  “I swear, I’m going to kill her. She just went screeching out of the gate as though she were competing at Le Mans. After making a lot of noise about the dangerous steps we have here, she practically ran over a kid.”

  He finally opened his eyes and looked at her. “Are you sure it was her? I thought she came back to her motorhome a while back.”

  The dog whined, and Scott released Georgie’s hand to tug at the ends of the pink ribbon. “You like it here, don’t you, Trix? Getting sick of all that girly stuff in there with your mistress.” The ribbon slid undone, and Trixxi snuffled. “I should take her back to Australia with me, let her run wild with my sisters’ dogs. Roll in a bit of sheep poo. See what Jaxx thinks of that.”

  “Nobody is happy when a dog comes home after rolling in sheep poo,” Georgie pointed out, “not even you. And it was Jaxx I saw; my eyes aren’t that bad. Red hair; red car – she’s hard to miss.” She looked at the dog, feeling sympathy. “Do you hear her whining during the day? Does she get lonely?”

  “Not a sound. She’s a good little thing – but she seems to enjoy a bit of company.” Scott scratched her tummy. “I don’t mind hers either.”

  “So what, did you just go over and get her? Or did you ask Jaxx?”

  “Asked Ella, before she went off to do some task for Jaxx. I don’t just invite myself into other people’s homes.”

  “And Jaxx doesn’t object to your having her?”

  “Jaxx is too self-obsessed to notice what’s going on. If Trixxi wasn’t there, she’d just assume that Ella has her. I’m tempted to keep her, just to see how long it takes her to realize that she’s missing.”

  Georgie leaned a head against his shoulder, gazing out at the extensive RV Empire complex. Her father really had done an amazing job, building all of this up from nothing. Brought up by his gypsy grandmother, part of a family of gypsy horse-traders, he had moved from horses to buggies to trailers and kept going, all the way up to motorhomes worth over a million dollars. It was something to be proud of. No wonder Jaxx had chosen him as a candidate for her show. If ever there was anyone who had built up something from small beginnings, it was Johnny B. Goode.

  “Jerry was the original contact, you know,” she said, thinking about how it had all come about. “Jaxx made an appointment to see him personally to commission her flashy big motorhome, and met up with him a couple of times while it was being built to ensure it was all going to plan. That was before Tammy came into his life, of course. I think Jaxx thought he was a good catch – the heir to all this.”

  “You’re not going to inherit a share of the business?”

  “Oh yes. Dad would be entirely fair. But you’ve seen Jerry; he loves the whole scene. A born wheeler-dealer, like Dad. I just want to drift around in my gypsy caravan, kind of telling fortunes and kind of selling trailers, but really being part of the scene.” She stretched, enjoying the last rays of the sun.

  “Nothing wrong with living it instead of just talking about it.” Scott reached up and smoothed a tendril of hair back from her face. “It’s a philosophy that’s always worked for me. And it’s how I met you, so how can I complain?”

  “Schmoozer.” She turned her face up for a kiss. “Anyway, when Jaxx lined all of this up with Dad, I think she thought it was going to give her an excuse to work her wiles on Jerry. Now Tammy’s in the way, but she’s turned her attention to me. Did you know I could be the next John Edward?”

  “Who’s he?”

  “This psychic guy who makes contact with the dead. He has a show called Crossing Over. Jaxx wants me to do the same. Only with fortune-telling.”

  She could hear the rumble deep inside Scott’s chest as he laughed. “And you jumped at the chance, of course.”

  “I’m running out of excuses to avoid her. Tomorrow we’re doing the final wrap on the vintage section of the show. Tammy’s arranged for around sixteen vintage trailer owners to bring their trailers to the new RV park just outside of town, and she’s lined up a fifties rock band to play. She’s going to perform some popular number, but what, we don’t know. It’s all a big secret.” Georgie laughed. “She’s up to no good, I can tell by the glint in her eye.”

  A cloud drifted across the sun, and Scott sat up, patting the dog. “That’s it, Princess. Finished our little afternoon bonding session. Time for you to return to prison.”

  “Some prison,” Georgie said. “The dog sleeps more comfortably than I do. Jerry says the motorhome has a built-in kennel, except that it’s too grand to be called a kennel – and it’s certainly grander than a cell.”

  “What would you call it, being made to travel with Jaxx Saxby everywhere she went?”

  “Point taken.”

  She walked over with him while he took Trixxi back to the motorhome. A knock on the door got no response, so he just put her inside and closed the door after her.

  “See?” Georgie said. “Nobody home.”

  “She could be having a nap. Ella says she does that, and throws a tantrum if she’s disturbed.” He took her hand. “What are you doing now? Want to come to my place for Happy Hour? Stay for dinner? Seafood pasta on the menu tonight.”

  “Sure. It’ll be a while until Jerry and Tammy are back.” She followed him up the steps of his camper. “I wish we knew how that step got moved. Tammy wasn’t seriously hurt, but I’ve seen people break a leg after a misstep out of a trailer. It could have been really nasty.”

  She slid into the dinette while Scott prepared a snack and wine, and told him, “I did another reading.”

  “Thought there was something you weren’t saying.”

  “There’s nothing to say. I saw the same house, I saw the same reflection of Jaxx and the car in a pond – or water of some kind. Clearly, what I’m seeing is important, but I don’t know why.”

  “Nothing else?” Scott sat opposite her and clinked glasses before taking a swallow of wine. “Here’s a different wine for you to try. It’s from the Yarra Valley. A
nice semillon.”

  “Where’s the Yarra Valley?” She tried it. “Mmm, yum. You can be my personal shopper.”

  “It’s in Australia. A state called Victoria, down south.” He smiled lazily. “When we go to Australia, I’ll take you there too. Margaret River in Western Australia and the Yarra Valley in Victoria. That leaves only five more states. Well, technically, three more states and two Territories.”

  Georgie felt the same small thrill of excitement that she had on other occasions he had mentioned going to Australia. She couldn’t see how it was ever going to happen, but she liked the idea.

  Georgie Bridget Mowbray, she thought, half embarrassed to be trying on Scott’s surname for size. It had a completely different ring to Georgie B. Goode.

  Too early to think about that… “Maybe one day,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Anyway, in this reading I got the same stuff as before, but there was something else. Another reflection of Jaxx, but this time in a mirror. Only Jaxx kind of glared at the reflection and the reflection gave this nasty smile back, so I was thinking, maybe she’s a twin. Maybe she and the twin have been lifelong enemies, and she’s stalking her.”

  Scott didn’t laugh, but his eyes held a glimmer of amusement. “Could be. I’m sure we could find out if she had a twin.”

  “You didn’t give me a chance to finish. I checked the official bio. She was born Jacqueline Moira Saxby, and had three older sisters. They’re all teachers, and they’ve all got brown hair and blue or gray eyes. None of them looks like Jaxx. They all take after their mother, and Jaxx is like her father - only a big bright Technicolor version of him.”

  “So, no twin.”

  “No twin,” Georgie agreed dejectedly. “Unless her mother has a secret and they were separated at birth.”

  Scott swirled the liquid around in his glass, looking as though there was something he wanted to say but didn’t know how to say it.

  Georgie waited.

  Finally, he spoke. “There is something you should know. I did see something when I had the cards out earlier. I wanted to see what my mother thought of it before I said anything to you. She…well, she saw the same thing. Not the exact same layout, but the same message coming through.”

  “And…?” Georgie’s feeling of wellbeing slowly faded. She had a feeling that she wouldn’t like what she was about to hear.

  “Georgie, I think this is about more than Jaxx. I think you need to watch your back too.”

  Chapter 11

  The next day, Georgie’s heart sang the moment she drove into the RV park set up for the day’s filming, and saw the cheerful colors of the vintage trailers, with its pretty outdoor setting to match. Owning a vintage trailer, she often thought, was a bit like having a doll’s house to play with. You could pick different colors and themes and ring the changes with new covers for director’s chairs and chinaware… and of course, dress yourself to suit the theme.

  Today, she had left behind her gypsy caravan and her gypsy clothes, and dressed in fifties style clothes like most of the others. She didn’t get much of a chance to wear her small collection of retro fashions, because everyone expected her to fit the gypsy theme. Today she had pulled out her favorite: a new acquisition that she just couldn’t resist. She glanced down at her skirt: black with large white polka dots, and a cheeky red petticoat that added a splash of color to the hemline. She’d teamed it with a white fitted shirt with a cute poodle stitched on it that reminded her of Trixxi. It was all finished off with a red kerchief around her neck, a wide black belt and practical white saddle shoes with bobby sox. And, of course, the black cats-eye sunglasses.

  She felt like a girl going to the prom.

  Today would make a great segment on the show. Sure, she knew that after cutting it was likely to be no more than a few minutes long in the final show, but it would be full of energy and life and laughter. They’d probably sell a heap more vintage trailers and gypsy caravans once this aired.

  Tucked away behind a couple of trees, where it wouldn’t spoil the effect of the vintage scene, she could see the film crew’s truck. Seth and Dominic were unloading their camera gear, and Jaxx, her bright auburn hair up in a saucy ponytail, was surrounded by a knot of admirers.

  Better than yesterday, thought Georgie, peering through the crowd to see what Jaxx was wearing. It looked like a swing skirt in turquoise and black. She must have taken advice from Ella.

  She parked well back from the vintage trailers and cars. While her truck’s maroon canopy didn’t look out of place next to her gypsy caravan, it didn’t really fit in here.

  Layla had obviously spotted her driving in. She waved from the doorway of her trailer, and made beckoning motions. She looked fabulous, in a pair of white high-waist shorts with three giant navy buttons on each hip pocket, and a navy and white striped sailor top. Her hair, caught back with a white Alice band, curled around her shoulders.

  “Georgie! Is that really you? No gypsy shawl, no crystal ball? You look amazing!”

  “Thanks.” Georgie flushed with pleasure. “So do you, as always.”

  Not far away, Seth was toting his camera and tripod to a position near Jaxx, but Georgie noted with amusement that his eyes were on Layla.

  “Seth’s watching,” she murmured. “Got him hooked, have you?”

  “After last night, he should be,” Layla said, winking. “But wait until you see this. Come in, quick, before Jaxx sees you.”

  Since the crowd around Jaxx was growing by the minute, Georgie doubted that the star of the show would be interested in anything else but signing autographs and posing for selfies, but she obediently ducked into the trailer. Layla swung the door shut behind her.

  “Hiya!” Tammy waved from where she was perched on the bed at the end of the trailer, a devilish grin on her face.

  Georgie stared at her, and broke into helpless laughter. “Omigod. She’s going to kill you.”

  “That’s the plan,” Tammy said complacently. “Well, maybe not actual death, but I hope she’ll be seriously annoyed.”

  “Serve her right.” Layla slid into the bench behind the dining table and picked up the teapot, warmed by a 50s tea-cozy, to pour a cup for Georgie. “If she had shown the slightest bit of concern yesterday, we might have pity, but no. Poor Tams was lying there bleeding—with a sprained ankle—and did she care? No, all she could talk about was how we’d get sued because of our unsafe steps.”

  Georgie put her head on one side and stared at Jaxx’s double. Well, not quite her double: Tammy looked gorgeous instead of tarty. Luxurious red hair fell in gleaming waves around her shoulders, and her eyes, normally a clear blue, were a cat-like green. Her impressively curvy figure was shown to perfection in a pale yellow dress with fitted sleeves, a wide belt and a deep scooped neckline.

  “Well?” Tammy was obviously enjoying the effect. “What do you think?”

  “Did you really dye your hair red?”

  “It washes out in a couple of shampoos.”

  “I’ve seen that dress before. Somewhere…but where?” Georgie gave up. “No, I give up. Tell me.”

  “Think Ann-Margret.”

  Georgie snapped her fingers. “Bye Bye Birdie! Opening credits!”

  “Got it.” Tammy mimicked a Jaxx hair-flick that had Layla snorting into her tea. “She can’t claim that I’m copying her, can she, when I’m obviously Ann-Margret?”

  “Yeah, like Ann-Margret’s eyes were ever that shade of green.”

  “No, but Jaxx’s are. How much do you want to bet hers are contacts too?”

  “No bet.” Georgie laughed and shook her head. “Love your work, Tams.”

  Tammy swung her feet, casting a regretful look at her bandaged ankle and her feet, encased in yellow ballet slippers. “Jerry wouldn’t let me wear heels.”

  “Nor should he,” Georgie said with some asperity. “I hope you’re not even thinking of dancing.”

  “Just a shimmy or two,” Tammy said evasively. “Anyway, Jerry will be there to catch m
e.” She paused, her grin spreading even wider, waiting for Georgie to catch on.

  Georgie looked from her to Layla, both with identical mischievous expressions.

  Then she got it. “You’ve talked him into being Conrad Birdie, haven’t you?”

  “Yup. Gold suit and all. And the guitar. But we had to spray-paint an old one.”

  “How did you get hold of a gold suit?”

  “Costume place in town. Don’t forget, I had plenty of time to plan. I asked the vintage crowd a month ago to come here for an impromptu rally. They jumped at the chance to be on Jaxx Saxby’s show.” She laughed. “I thought at the time that it would be fun to dress up as Ann-Margret because she reminded me a bit of Jaxx, but it was only after meeting the famous Ms. Saxby I realized she’d probably be furious. Especially since Jerry will be my Conrad Birdie.”

  Georgie sat down and accepted the polka-dot cup and saucer from Layla. “She’ll hate you forever, you realize that, don’t you?”

  “And your point is?” She and Layla grinned at each other.

  Georgie gave up. “You two. You’re like the terrible twins. Always coming up with something.” Then she suddenly heard her own words, and set her cup down in the saucer with a rattle.

  Twins.

  Right now, Tammy could pass for Jaxx’s twin –and Jaxx’s future had a threatening black cloud over it.

  What if Tammy was mistaken for Jaxx?

  Layla half rose out of her seat. “Georgie? What is it?”

  She looked at Tammy, someone who had become closer than a sister. If anything happened to Tammy…

  Yesterday’s crystal ball reading swam into her mind: Jaxx, looking at her reflection in the mirror, and the reflection glaring back.

  Things were coming to a head, and Tammy, thanks to her ability to play any character she wanted, was right in the firing line.

  ~~~

  The film crew stayed at the RV park all day, in and out of trailers, filming dancers and singers, and grabbing whatever clips and sound bites they could—which meant that Georgie was on tenterhooks the whole time. Luckily, Tammy had already planned to stay out of sight and rest her ankle until it was time for her piece.