Georgie laughed. She couldn’t help it. “You only had to ask. I let any of my clients record a session quite openly.”
“Ah,” he said, “but if I’d done that, you would have been more careful about what you said, wouldn’t you?”
“Not at all. It would have gone exactly the same way.”
“I don’t think so.” He closed his fingers around the pen, and picked up his notebook. “I still think you’re a fraud, Georgie Goode. And I think this proves it. I’m going to be taking this to the police.”
With an air of triumph, he made a dramatic exit.
Georgie sat staring after him, stunned.
Was this kid for real?
CHAPTER 4
That night, Georgie had a council of war with her CBI team, recounting the visit with Nick.
Tammy thought it was funny. Layla was open-mouthed. Scott just looked at her thoughtfully, and rubbed the back of her hand. He seemed to know instinctively that although she was amused, she was also a little afraid.
“I think you’re safe,” he said to her. “You’ve made it clear to every client that it’s principally for entertainment, haven’t you?”
“Of course I have. It’s on the sign, and I tell them as well. But, you know…” she sighed. “It’s nudge nudge, wink wink, and ‘can you tell me what will happen anyway?’”
“That’s their problem, not yours,” Tammy pointed out. Her eyes were still bright with laughter. “Sorry, Georgie, I don’t mean to take it lightly. It’s just this boy—he’s unbelievable! Like a cartoon character. It’s as though he had made up his mind and he’s just out to catch you. He’s like a…a vigilante.”
Georgie nodded, breaking out in a reluctant smile. “He’s not a very good spy. Imagine telling me that he had a hidden camera. What if I’d sent an enforcer after him to snatch it back?”
“Enforcer?” Scott looked around him. “You weren’t thinking of me, were you?”
“I wasn’t thinking of anyone. Honestly, I don’t think I’ll hear from him again.”
They talked around the problem for another half hour, but with just ‘possible financial trouble’ as all she had picked up, they didn’t have much to go on. Finally Georgie sat back and held up a hand in a ‘stop’ motion. “Let’s talk about something else. If the cops turn up at my door, then I’ll deal with it. Otherwise I’m just going to write young Nick off as a problem child.”
“And a problem client,” Layla pointed out.
“That too.” Deliberately, Georgie changed the subject. “Tammy, I thought you were going back to Elkhart with Jerry today?”
There was a brief silence, and then she said coolly “I was.”
All eyes focused on her.
“I’m very fond of Jerry,” she said. “You all know that.”
They all nodded.
“And it’s kinda fun using every weapon at my disposal to outwit him. I mean, half the time he knows I’m doing it and he teases me about it. He’s not stupid.”
“Far from it,” agree Georgie. “Do I hear a ‘but’ coming?”
“But,” Tammy said, “every weapon includes more than sexy clothes—which I love wearing anyway—and sharing a laugh and willing to listen to his ideas about the business. It means I’ve got a brain too. Right?”
A chorus of ‘rights’ assured her than she did.
“It’s not all about playing games. I know I’m right about where vintage vans should go. You know I’m right. And deep down, I think Jerry knows I’m right, but he doesn’t want to give in. He just doesn’t want to lose. Because that’s how he sees it.”
They all waited.
“So I’m staying right here. I canceled the truck to take my trailer back, and I’m letting Jerry dictate what happens to vintage back at Elkhart.” She shrugged. “If it means more to him to stick to his guns and have his own way than to weigh it up and take suggestions, well then…” She drew a finger across her throat.
“Wow,” Georgie said. “I’m not sure whether that means you’ll call it quits or you plan to kill him.”
Tammy nodded, but her bottom lip trembled. “Oh Georgie. He’s a rat and stubborn and arrogant. And he’s gorgeous and funny and I love him.”
“But you’d give him up.” Georgie stood up and gave her a hug.
Tammy hugged her back and sniffled. “I can’t live with a man who won’t take me seriously.”
“If he doesn’t come back and apologize,” said Georgie, “I’ll be sending my enforcer after him.” She shot a furious look at Scott. “Won’t I, Scott?”
He tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. “This is what happens when you get tangled up with a gypsy fortune-teller. Maybe it’s time I went back to Australia.”
~~~
The next morning, Georgie left Scott in charge of any possible retro van enquiries while she headed off with Layla, Tammy and Mags to what Tammy termed a ‘girl fest’. This involved a long morning tea on the Third Street Promenade and lively discussions about retro fashions related to interior design and clothes. Mags, with her fabulous line of gypsy and Boho clothing, had travelled with them to Santa Monica and was full of ideas—one of which left Georgie stunned.
“You want to design a special label using my name?” Georgie asked. She shot a quick glance at Tammy. “Not sure how Jerry will react to that.”
Mags looked at her as though she was kidding. “Georgie, whose name is associated with vintage and retro at the Johnny B. Good RV Empire? Who turned up at the expo in a vintage gypsy van? Who is on the road all the time and hangs out with the retro crowd and still has the family name?” She opened both hands wide in a “this is obvious” gesture. “Your father has been playing the ‘B. Goode’ card ever since he started in the RV business. Every TV ad has some slogan. You and Jerry have appeared in countless ‘this is a family business’ ads—”
Georgie stopped her before she really got on a roll. “Okay. Okay. You’re right. When I think about it, Dad will probably be relieved that I’m getting on board at last.”
“Of course he will,” said Tammy. “I’ve got to know him really well over the past few months. He’s always talking about his little Georgie girl. He’ll be thrilled.”
“Here’s what I’m thinking,” Mags said, pulling a bulging scrapbook out of a huge embroidered tote. “We’ll talk about each line in detail later, but we’ll go for different kinds of looks, but elements from each one will tie in with another.” She glanced up. “You know the kind of thing: use the same scarf, but tie it in different ways; wear a blouse on the shoulder or off the shoulder. I’ve done some rough sketches for you.”
Georgie, Layla and Tammy leaned in close as she flipped through the scrapbook. She had put headers on each section: Traditional Gypsy, Wild Gypsy, Sexy Gypsy, Pretty Gypsy and a few more. The pages were a riot of color and texture in themselves, with scraps of fabric and lace—rich velvets, slippery silks, fine lace, samples of embroidery.
Mags’ smile grew wider and wider at the chorus of ‘wows’ and ‘I want it’. Finally Georgie sat back looking dreamy. “It’s so, so fantastic. My own clothing label. Oh, Mags.”
“I’m glad you like it,” she said, trying to look modest and failing. “I was so excited about it I could barely sleep. It’s good for you, and good for me. Your family name will help sell it, and my name as a designer will be out there.”
Layla laughed. “Better get a bigger truck, Georgie. Poor Scott. More drawers to build.”
“Actually,” said Mags, “I realized that’s going to be a problem for me, too. All my clothing line is stashed in my campervan, but I’ve got to sell that and buy something to tow my new gypsy caravan. And whatever I buy has to be fitted out so that I can transport the samples around.”
They looked at each other, realizing that she was right.
“I’ve got an eBay store,” Mags said. “But I really need to carry a lot with me, too, since I’m on the road.”
“This just keeps growing,” Georgie said. She put her c
hin on her hand, and frowned into her coffee cup, stirring the leftover froth absently. “We’re going to need some help. Let me think.”
She wanted it all to happen, but she didn’t want to give up the joy of her gypsy lifestyle to go back to corporate concerns. She couldn’t go back to working in an office. She was quite sure that the others felt the same.
A very irritating thought kept surfacing. She tried to push it away and think of other options, but it just kept popping back up.
Jerry was the one who was so good at coordinating all this stuff. Jerry and Tammy together would be all over it.
Dammit.
She sighed and looked across the table at Tammy, who was, it turned out, looking at her.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“I think I might be,” Tammy said. “Jerry?”
“Jerry and you. Just when you’re not speaking. And I’m not going to make the first move. We’ll see if he makes good. If he goes ahead with his stupid plan for relocating vintage—then it’s war.”
CHAPTER 5
The next day, when Georgie put out her sign to show that she was open for business, she found herself glancing around nervously to ensure that Nick wasn’t waiting in the wings with a couple of rock-jawed cops.
“Relax,” Scott said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’ve got nothing to fear.” He kept his voice low, because there were two women waiting nearby. “I’m heading off with Mags to look at trucks and storage.”
“I don’t really expect to be arrested,” Georgie said, putting a brave face on it. Inside her a small voice disagreed: yes I do.
“I don’t expect you to be either, but Layla and Tammy are sticking around just in case Nick comes back to give you more trouble. Don’t put up with it, Georgie.”
“Okay. I won’t.”
“You’re a shocking liar,” Scott said, smiling. He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Take care. Love the outfit, by the way.”
Momentarily distracted, Georgie glanced down at her embroidered skirt and smoothed a hand down over the lacy shawl draped across one hip. “So do I. It’s from Mags’ Pretty Gypsy range.” She had put the combination of soft fabrics and warm colors to make herself feel better, and it was working.
“Pretty indeed,” Scott agreed, and gave her another kiss for good measure.
He left, and she walked across to the waiting women, who were admiring the attractive picture formed by Layla and Tammy, sitting outside Tammy’s smart red and white retro trailer gossiping.
“Hi,” Georgie greeted the women. Her gaze followed theirs. “Feel as though you’ve stepped back half a century?”
They both turned to her, smiling, and one said, “They look like they’re having such a good time. I’d love a trailer like that.”
“Easily done.” Georgie grinned. “Those two girls are our vintage road team. Go over and have a chat if you want to know more.” She looked from one to the other. “Who am I seeing first?”
“Me,” said the first woman. “I’m Steph. This is my friend Mia.”
“They really wouldn’t mind?” asked Mia, still looking across at Tammy.
“They’d love it. Go on over.” Georgie caught Tammy’s eye and waved, and then pointed to Mia.
With a cheerful grin, Tammy made ‘come and join us’ motions and Mia trotted off happily.
“This is going to be fun,” Steph said, following Georgie up the steps of her van. “I love fortune-tellers. A friend of mine told me about you. Are you here for long?” At Georgie’s invitation, she slid into the seat behind the table and rubbed her hands together, looking around. “What a gorgeous trailer!” Her eyes moved up to where the sunlight was fractured into different colors through the stained glass. “Lucky you, living in this.”
Georgie smiled as she slipped the black velvet cover off the crystal ball, already more relaxed with Steph’s pleasure in her surroundings. This was just the kind of client she needed right now.
Both Steph and Mia turned out to be fun. Forty minutes later she saw Mia out of the caravan, and went down to welcome the third client for the morning. When she turned around, Georgie’s heart sank.
It was Katherine, wearer of many layers, and if she was right, Nick’s mother.
~~~
“Surprise surprise!” Katherine trilled brightly. “I’m back again. I hope you’re not tired of me!” Confident of her welcome, she moved towards the van.
“Not at all,” Georgie said. “But…you’ve already been several times. I don’t know how much more I can tell you.”
Katherine brushed her off. “Let me be the judge of that. You told me things the second time that didn’t come up in our first session, didn’t you?” She followed Georgie inside and laid a twenty-dollar note on the table. “You should charge more, you know.”
Georgie looked at the money, Nick’s accusations echoing in her mind. “Katherine, this makes sixty dollars you’ve spent this week. Are you sure you want another reading?”
“Absolutely.” She plunked herself down, her shapeless brown leather bag beside her.
Indecisive, George remained standing for a beat, and then made up her mind.
“Your son is Nick, right?”
Katherine looked at her warily. “Yes.”
“Did you know he came to see me, the day after your last session?”
Katherine sighed. “I was hoping you hadn’t made the connection between us, but I guess that was too much to expect. Last night he told me about both visits. I’m really sorry.”
Georgie sat down. “It wasn’t particularly nice having the police held over my head. Did he tell you he recorded the session?” Despite herself, a grin crept through. “On his secret video pen?”
“Yes, and after I watched it on his laptop I told him if he went to the police I’d never speak to him again.” She risked a small smile. “Of course I didn’t mean it, but I would have been really furious. I apologize for what he did.”
“But why? Why is he so angry about all this?” Really, thought Georgie, forty dollars wasn’t that much to spend on a reading. Two readings. Even today’s taking it up to sixty dollars wasn’t breaking the bank.
Nevertheless, she pushed the money back towards Katherine. “Let’s not worry about this. Let’s just talk.”
Katherine flushed, refusing to touch it. “No, absolutely not. He’s embarrassed me enough. He told me he refused even to pay for the first time, and only paid for the second so he could get evidence!” She rolled her eyes. “Evidence. Who does he think he is, one of the CSI team?”
Georgie had to look away and cover a smile at that, thinking of her own fledgling little CBI team. “But why?” she persisted. “It just doesn’t make sense, Katherine. Has he been ripped off by a fake psychic or something himself? Is that what it is?”
“No.” She seemed to struggle with herself briefly, and then shrugged. “It’s… my sister. His aunt. His favorite aunt. She, um, got caught up with this online psychic and paid thousands of dollars before she ran out of cash.”
Georgie relaxed. That would explain it. “So when he knew that you’d come to me twice, alarm bells started ringing? He thought you were going to do the same?”
“Yes.” Katherine sat forward, nodding. “I’m sure that’s what it was. But I told him that you were nothing like the other one, and he didn’t need to worry.”
“Okay.” Georgie tapped her fingers on the table. Something just didn’t sit right.
“Please?” Katherine looked uncertain. “I really need to ask you about something.”
“Of course.” Georgie uncovered the crystal ball, and rested her hands on it. This time she didn’t form a question in her mind—nothing specific, anyway. She just thought of Nick and his mother, and what she’d just learned about his aunt.
Instantly, she knew that Katherine was lying to her.
It was so odd, the way this worked. She never knew from one minute to the next whether she would get a name, an image, or a sentence c
learly spoken in Great-Grandma Rosa’s sardonic tones. This time, she got nothing but a feeling. No, a certainty.
Katherine was hiding something.
Georgie smiled across at her. “You said there was something you needed to ask me about.”
“Yes.” Katherine avoided Georgie’s gaze, under the pretext of looking around the caravan in appreciation, tilting her head to look at the carving around the ceiling fixture. The cozy atmosphere inside the van was enhanced by the flicker of candlelight.
Finally Katherine flicked a quick glance at Georgie again, and then studied her bitten fingernails. “Am I in danger?”
“Are you in danger?” Surprised, Georgie blinked. Under her fingers, the crystal ball seemed to grow warmer.
“Is there someone…stalking me?” Katherine bit her lower lip.
Carefully, Georgie felt her way. “Do you feel that someone is doing that?”
“Kind of.”
Kind of. What sort of answer was that? Georgie dug deeper, while on another level she let herself be receptive for answers from the crystal ball. “Tell me why you think that.”
“Nick and I live by ourselves. Just us and Rusty, our Pugzu.”
A Pugzu… Georgie searched her memory, and remembered that a Pugzu was a crossbreed, part pug, part shitzu. A small dog—not something that would frighten off too many intruders.
“We’re in a small house,” Katherine went on. “My husband died years ago, but we’ve managed to hang on to the house, although it’s been a struggle at times.”
Georgie was beginning to put it together. If money was tight, then a football scholarship was important to Nick…and if life had been hard, he’d naturally be concerned about his mother falling victim to a fake psychic, like his aunt.
“I don’t tell everyone this, because they wouldn’t understand, but I know you will.” Katherine took a deep breath. “I’ve had a message from beyond the veil…from my husband. He said I need to be careful, that someone is watching me. Someone who means me no good.” Nervously, she shifted in her seat. “Can you tell me anything more?”
Good Riddance: Book 3 Georgie B. Goode Gypsy Caravan Cozy Mystery Page 3
