Good Intentions

by Marg McAlister

  If Shirley should happen to meet with an accident in some rough countryside, who would know? Australia’s rugged bush could be unforgiving.

  What he needed to do was get her—and her motorhome—out of a public caravan park, and in a more secluded campground. Once they were alone, he could figure out a way to get rid of her.

  Right. He’d get to Tamborine Mountain, go to one of those campgrounds where you had to rough it a bit, and plan his next move.

  12

  Follow the Money

  “Hello! Anyone home?” called Louise’s cheerful voice from outside.

  “Come in. Perfect timing, I was just admiring my new quilt.” Pure pleasure coursing through her, Georgie grinned at Louise as she came in. Scott’s mother couldn’t have given her a better gift at the beginning of their round-Australia trip: a bright, happy work of art with treasured memories in every carefully stitched square. “Exactly what I needed to make this into a home.”

  Louise joined her at the foot of the bed, her own face showing the satisfaction of a job well done. “Oh, it looks even better than I’d hoped. Does that sound conceited?” She shrugged. “I don’t care. I love it.”

  “And my new sewing machine is tucked away underneath, all ready for action. I’m already thinking about patterns, ideas. I kind of got away from working with fabric while Scott and I were traveling around the States—I can’t wait to get back to doing something creative.”

  “I thought so.” Louise grinned back at her. “Saw it in the cards.”

  They both laughed and admired the quilt some more before Louise said, “This visit has a purpose, besides giving me a chance to see what the quilt looks like in its rightful place. Bluey just phoned with some additional information. It turns out that Norm Cooper—Shirley’s third husband, the one who died from cancer—has a stepson from his previous marriage. He adopted the boy, but then Norm and his wife split up.” She turned and looked at Georgie, her face becoming more serious. “It seems that this kid is trouble with a capital “T”. Break and enter, dealing in stolen goods, drugs charges, robbery. Spent some time in prison.”

  “Ah.” Georgie put it together in her mind. “So when Norm married Shirley, she inherited the adopted son.”

  “Not immediately. The records show his contact address as being with his mother until his early teens. Then she died of some illness, and then he lived with Norm and Shirley until his first prison sentence. Since then he’s been back a few times.”

  They stared at each other.

  “What’s your gut say?” Georgie asked. “You think it’s him?”

  “Could be. Not sure why he’d be chasing Shirley, though.”

  “Money,” guessed Georgie. “Don’t they say, ‘follow the money’?”

  Louise wrinkled her nose. “Except I get the impression that Shirley doesn’t have much money.”

  Georgie’s eyes went to the crystal ball, now in its permanent spot on a corner shelf Scott had installed. “I could try a reading. What’s his name?”

  “Jason. Jason Cooper.”

  A thought struck Georgie. “In the reading we did together, you saw some sort of force ranged against them. Remember? We weren’t sure whether it was the police. But now we know that Jason’s been in prison, it sounds right.”

  “I thought of that when Bluey was talking. And I sensed two men, one smaller, but I didn’t think it was a child. That would fit, too.”

  Georgie tapped a finger on her chin. “Let’s do a reading. See if we can go to Shirley with anything new. If not, we can just spend some time with her.”

  Louise’s expression lightened. “We should do that anyway. Scott and Tony are tinkering with the car again, so why don’t we have a girls’ day out? Go to the winery for lunch.”

  “Now you’re talking.”

  They settled themselves at the dining table, with the crystal ball between them.

  “This is such a nice change,” Louise murmured, watching intently as Georgie removed the black velvet square that covered it, folded it and put it to one side. “Watching someone else at work, seeing what comes to me at the same time.”

  “Jason Cooper,” Georgie said, feeling the shape of the words in her mind.

  Jason Cooper, Shirley Cooper.

  What did he mean to her? Was he a threat?

  The world slowly retreated, until it was just Georgie and the crystal ball. She was conscious of Louise’s soft breathing opposite, but even that faded as she concentrated on the first tendrils of mist that appeared. The mist grew darker, changing from white to a murky gray.

  That was a sign in itself. Usually, when the mist in the crystal ball grew darker, it indicated trouble.

  This time, she could see images forming within the crystal ball itself rather than in her mind. The face of a man gradually grew clearer, staring directly at her. He wore a discontented frown, and his mouth was curled in a sneer, revealing discolored teeth. Dark hair hung in greasy strands over his forehead and at the back it touched the neckband of his t-shirt. His eyes were shifty, with large black pupils.

  Georgie felt a shiver of repulsion. If this were Jason, she wouldn’t want him anywhere too close to her.

  She glanced up to find Louise watching her. “Can you see what I see?”

  “Yes. I didn’t want to disturb you. Jason, you think?”

  “Yes.” Georgie felt absolutely certain. “It is. But I haven’t picked up what’s going on between him and Shirley yet.”

  She let herself drift, watching the face in the crystal ball. It retreated, and in its place appeared the large man she had sensed in her previous reading. But in this one, his face was wracked with pain, and his skin sagged. Georgie felt a rush of sympathy. This would be Norm, the boy’s father, and the cancer that had taken him from Shirley was clearly well advanced.

  Norm faded, and a face that Georgie knew well appeared.

  Shirley. Haggard, tired.

  She was distraught, and clearly pleading with someone, her eyes moist with despair. The perspective changed abruptly, and Georgie was able to see who the other person was.

  Exactly who she expected—Jason.

  Even through the crystal ball, she could see the calculation on Jason’s face, in his eyes. Or maybe it was that she could feel it. Whatever it was, Jason was at the root of all Shirley’s troubles.

  A final scene appeared, flicking in and out so quickly that it barely registered before it was gone.

  Norm, lying on a bed, his face peaceful. No movement. No pain. Nothing.

  Georgie blinked, and shot a look at Louise. “Did you catch that? It was only there for a second.”

  “The man on the bed? Yes. Norm, I’m sure it was Norm.”

  “Was he…dead?”

  Louise looked to one side, gazing at something that only she could see. Finally, she said slowly, “I don’t think so. No, I didn’t get that impression. But it’s significant—he looked peaceful, did you see?”

  “Yes.” Georgie tried to make sense of it. “It was like Shirley had to get him away from Jason, before he could rest. No, that’s not right.” In frustration, she rubbed her forehead. “She was asking Jason for something. Begging him.”

  Louise huffed out the same frustrated sigh that Georgie had heard from her own lips at a reading that didn’t quite make sense. “Yes, but what? There’s more. I know there’s more.”

  “OK.” Georgie, seeing the crystal ball was clear again, reached for the velvet cloth to cover it up. “We’ve got as much as we can, for now. Let’s go and see Shirley, suggest that girls’ day out. Something’s going to give.”

  13

  Girls’ Day Out

  Louise was in her element, showing off her local area to Georgie and Shirley. “Cook’s tour of the area before we relax over lunch,” she said merrily, heading out of the driveway towards Canungra. “Shirley, you haven’t seen much of Tamborine Mountain at all, have you? You’ve been too busy playing caretaker.”

  “Playing?” Shirley said, with mock ind
ignation. “Playing? Haven’t you seen my elegant new sign? It’s official. I’m in line for the Caretaker of the Year Award.”

  “Doesn’t mean you have to work seven days a week,” Louise pointed out. “Usually either Tony or I will be around the place somewhere, and if not the other campers will tell people to pick a spot and set up while they’re waiting.”

  That made Georgie think of Shirley’s stepson, and the very real possibility that he might decide to come to Queensland looking for her. She asked Louise: “Do you ever turn anyone away? Or is it come one, come all?”

  “We haven’t had to worry about that yet,” Louise admitted. “It’s all been word of mouth—people just turn up. So far, so good.”

  “Everyone’s been lovely,” Shirley confirmed, leaning forward. “They love it here, because of the grey water system and the little outside bathroom they can use. And it’s…perfect for me.” Her voice dropped a little on the last few words.

  Thinking that she might have to leave if Jason finds her, Georgie guessed.

  Louise laughed. “‘Bathroom’ is a generous description of a shed with a self-composting toilet and a solar shower.”

  “More than a lot of other free camping places have,” Shirley pointed out.

  “True.” Keeping the tone light, Louise chatted about the family history in Canungra for the remaining few minutes to town, then pulled in to a spot in front of a cafe with cheerful crimson chairs around tables grouped both outside and inside. “Let’s park here. We can wander about for a bit and then come back for coffee.”

  “Great,” Georgie said. “I’m after some cushions to go with that quilt. Think I’ll find some here?”

  “If you can’t find any, I’ll make them for you,” Louise said. “But it’ll be fun to look. And there’s the best shoe store here.”

  Forty minutes later, they were slinging bags in the car before settling down for coffee.

  “I love those shoes,” Georgie said. “You were right. I could walk all the way around Australia in them. They’re so soft and comfortable.”

  “But no cushions.” Louise came back from the counter where she’d ordered for all of them. “If we have time before you make your way south, I’ll take you to Cleveland, on the coast. It’s only a bit over an hour’s drive from here. There’s this amazing little store there for all things vintage.”

  “I’ll feel right at home,” Georgie said nostalgically, thinking of the vintage stores she used to visit back home. “I’ll send photos back to Tammy and Layla.”

  Realizing that Shirley didn’t know whom she was talking about, she dug out her phone and flipped to the photos folder, located some photos from a vintage rally and handed it to Shirley. “The blonde girl is my future sister-in-law, Tammy. The dark one is Layla. That’s Layla’s trailer they’re sitting in.”

  A delighted smile came to Shirley’s face as she looked at Tammy and Layla, posing cheekily in their 50s pedal-pushers and sleeveless plaid shirts, sipping tea out of polka-dot cups. “What fun! Was this some dress-up thing?”

  Georgie laughed. “Not exactly. Tammy dresses like that all the time—pick any decade earlier than the seventies! You should see her dressed as a Flapper.”

  Over coffee and cake, she launched into an explanation of the vintage trailer network and rallies in the USA, but made sure to weave in a couple of the cases she and the others had solved while they were traveling around having fun.

  “It sounds like so much fun,” Shirley said wistfully, finishing off the last few crumbs of her carrot cake. “It’s so good that you got to do it while you’re young.”

  “Huh,” Louise said scornfully. “You can have fun any time. I’ve had plenty of good times, but I still plan on doing lots of things that I haven’t done before.”

  She nudged Georgie under the table before continuing. “And just look at you, Shirley. You must have a sense of adventure to sell up and take to the road like this. You’re an inspiration.”

  Shirley’s smile looked a little forced. “Me? I don’t think so. I did it because I didn’t have an option.” She glanced away, and at first Georgie thought she was going to clam up again, but then she swallowed, put her chin up, and looked first at Louise, then Georgie. “When Norm died, I couldn’t afford to keep up the mortgage repayments. I had to use the home equity loan when he was sick. So I…I sold up.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Georgie said softly. “About Norm. But you have a daughter, don’t you? You’re not on your own.”

  “That’s right. Emma’s great. And little Jas, she’s six, she’s gorgeous. They’ve asked me to live with them, and I get on with Ian, so that would be fine.” A shadow crossed her face. “I might decide to live with them one day, but right now…I needed to get away.”

  There was a brief silence, then Georgie took a deep breath. “Shirley, please don’t think I’m interfering. But by now you know that I see things in the crystal ball, just as Louise does, in the cards. And we think…no, we know…that there’s some trouble in your life.” She reached over and squeezed Shirley’s hand. “Won’t you let us try to help you?”

  Twenty kilometers away in Tamborine, Chook had just about reached the end of his tether, driving around the countryside looking for Shirley. Where the hell was she?

  Not in a caravan park at Tamborine, that’s for sure. He’d had to drive out to a spot called Cedar Creek, where he’d found a caravan park and a place that seemed to be a cross between a resort and an outdoor adventure place.

  At first, he’d been hopeful when he saw a Jayco motorhome that looked just like hers, but when he’d moved up close enough to have a good look, it turned out to be inhabited by a cranky little dog with an equally cranky old man owner. The dog had barked at him and its owner had looked at him like he was some mangy cur.

  Well, all right, he hadn’t had time to have a shower, so he might be a bit on the nose, but there’d been no need to glare at him like that.

  A couple of backpackers had been a bit friendlier, but they didn’t know the area, so they were of no use.

  Finally, somebody directed him to the Visitor Center, where he discovered that a lot of visitors to Tamborine Mountain and Lamington National Park liked to stay at a place called Canungra, somewhere down south.

  Gritting his teeth, Chook called up the app on his phone and tapped in Canungra. Sure enough, there were more camping areas down there —three, as far as he could tell. One was a farm stay, one was Canungra Showground, and one was a campground by a river, with more basic facilities.

  For his money, she’d be at the farm stay or the Showground, where she had access to power.

  He slumped in his car and closed his eyes, assailed by a moment of doubt. He’d been betting everything on something said by a six-year-old kid. What if he was way off target? What if Shirley was nowhere near this Tamborine Mountain?

  All this way for nothing.

  Well, he’d burnt his bridges now. Chook sat up and punched the steering wheel. He’d keep going until he found her, even if she was on the other side of Australia.

  But first, Canungra.

  If she was here, he’d find her.

  14

  Heating Up

  Once more, looking at Georgie, Shirley was tempted to spill it all. Long, hard months of keeping a secret, of worrying that somebody would find out and she would find herself behind bars, had worn her down.

  She was tired, in every way. Tired of having to watch every word she said, tired of looking over her shoulder in case he was there, tired of worrying about whether she’d have enough money to see her through her days.

  And so, so tired of being on guard with friends. You should be able to talk about everything with good friends, but she’d let hers drift away over the years. There had been one woman in her card-making group that had made overtures, but Shirley was too afraid.

  It wasn’t just a matter of watching what she said. It was fear that he would turn up, bringing chaos with him as he always had.

  Chook. Just
the thought of him brought a cold feeling to her stomach. She had thought she’d be free of him, once she sold up, paid him what he demanded and left town—but now he was looking for her again.

  And these two women knew it. Knew she was in trouble.

  But how much did they know?

  She should find out, and then decide whether to stay or keep running.

  Just as she was about to speak, Louise beat her to it.

  “Shirley, it’s OK. You don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to,” she said. “It’s none of our business. But if ever you need help, please tell us.”

  Shirley gathered up all her courage, and spoke in a rush. “How much do you know already?” Her eyes went to Georgie. “Have you looked in your crystal ball again, since…since that first day?”

  “Yes, I have,” Georgie said. She and Louise exchanged a glance, and Shirley could tell they’d been discussing her. She could imagine them both sitting down, Louise with her cards, Georgie with her crystal ball. Shirley didn’t doubt that they meant well, but as soon as one other person knew, a secret wasn’t a secret any more.

  She’d seen that often enough, when Chook’s friends sold him out to the police. It only took one person to crack under police pressure, and that was it.

  Shirley cleared her throat, her mouth dry. “Can you tell me what you saw, please?”

  “I saw a man that I’m pretty sure was your husband,” Georgie said. “A large man, but…clearly not well.”

  Shirley nodded. Norm. She missed him so much. Aching to know more, she asked, “What was he doing?”

  “Just resting,” Georgie said. “He appeared only for a few seconds. I saw you, too, and a younger man. I had the feeling that there might be some trouble between you.”